Sunday 18 December 2016

Federast Funnies 6


In case you are wondering, yeah, I am having a break from the blog, but today's load of Federast old wank was just too good to miss.

The Guardian has a piece by Nick Cohen which looks suspiciously like something that appeared in the Spectator or somewhere a month or so ago, so I left the following comment:

Needless to say, various Federast types then piled in:


It was at that point, less than 30 minutes after my original comment was posted, that the Guardian's Mrs Grundy stepped in and censored the whole thread. In the past they would send me an email which contained the post that Mother Grundy or her minions disliked, but they have stopped doing that, probably because they know that I repost them here. Luckily I am now in the habit of saving all my Brexit comments, and the replies, so that trick isn't gonna wash.

Remember, folks, where the Guardian is concerned, keep your ad-blocker up to date, and don't fall for the trap of giving the buggers a penny, no matter how much they beg. If there are as many Federasts in the country as they believe, then they don't need any Brexiteering brass. If there aren't, then they will go bust sooner rather than later.

Either way we still get the laughs.

Friday 18 November 2016

Federast Funnies 5


I know nothing about Jon McNaughton, the artist who painted this rather nice bit of agitprop, but as soon as I read the Guardian's report, and the spittle-flecked comments, I knew that this was a fellow to keep an eye on.

In a nutshell, an American political commentator called Sean Hannity has bought the original and plans to make a gift of it to Donald Trump. Needless to say, the Guardian's sexually self sufficient best have now decided that they are all art experts and are passing judgement on the piece, with the gist of it being that they don't like it.

Staying in our nutshell, I got in touch with McNaughton's sales' manageress, and will order a 16 X 24 inch signed lithograph of the work to decorate my wall and annoy all the right people. I noted this fact in a comment of my own, which led to an exchange between myself and a member of the wankerati:


Needless to say, the last comment was deleted when the precious soul went running to the moderators, having had his feelings hurt.

I shall post again on this theme when I have the lithograph on my wall, but in the meantime, this is all good fun, isn't it?

Thursday 17 November 2016

Why Clinton Lost


There are many reasons why Hillary Clinton lost. She has all the charisma of a lump of wood, she defending her husband's extra-curricular shagging which made it hard for anyone to attack Trump's love for exercising his middle leg, the allegations about corruption go all the way back to her days in Little Rock and she played fast and loose with security by refusing to use a government approved server for her official e-mails.

However, the main reason, the one that puts all the others into the shade, was utter stupidity. Take this killer paragraph from a Huffington Post story as proof of that point:

In politics, much like anything else, victory has a thousand fathers and defeat is an orphan. A senior official from Clinton’s campaign noted that they did have a large staff presence in Michigan and Wisconsin (200 and 180 people respectively) while also stressing that one of the reasons they didn’t do more was, in part, because of psychological games they were playing with the Trump campaign. They recognized that Michigan, for example, was a vulnerable state and felt that if they could keep Trump away ― by acting overly confident about their chances ― they would win it by a small margin and with a marginal resource allocation.

Got that? They knew they were weak in Michigan so did not campaign there because they were weak. I can sort of understand Ed Balls not campaigning in his own constituency in 2015 because he did not realise how soft his vote had become, but these idiots knew they were weak, and still did not campaign in the states that lost Clinton the election.

So Clinton lost because she did not deserve to win. It really is as simple as that.

Tuesday 15 November 2016

Federast Funnies 4


Here we are again, folks, with yet more self-loathing from the dear old Guardian.

The topic under debate was "Why Farage and Trump Have Dominated the Media," but it quickly spread into a general chat about immigration, which lets face it is why both Farage and Trump are so popular in their respective countries.

One bloke made the usual mocking comment about who will pick the cabbages if the third world part of Europe is not allowed to bless us with its cheap labour, to which I replied:

 "The same people who used to pick them before. Casual labour was supplied by the mums' army and students of the locality, supplemented by the unemployed who took seasonal work.Farmers, however, prefer to use East Europeans because it means that they can get their labourers via gangmasters at rock bottom rates."

The chat then ran thusly:

So what was my comment that the Guardian found to offensive to allow its precious readers to see? Here ya go, folks:
 Yeah, and I discovered just today that back in 1991 Birmingham Council commissioned an academic to write a report on under-age prostitution by girls in council care. The report found that most of the girls were white, with the rest being either black or mulatta. The men were all Pakistanis who drove private hire cars. The authoress was told to delete all references to ethnicity and taxis, and even then the report was suppressed.  I don't like the middle class as a breed, to be honest, but the lower middle class polyocracy, with their puerile little poly degrees and pathetic desire for status who now dominate the Labour Party really do leave me feeling in need of a bath.
 According to the Graun's censors, the comment was deleted 'cos it was off'-topic, but as you can see from the thread, it was a reply to someone whose comment was allowed to remain, so I'm calling bollocks on that excuse.

This is the Guardian, trying to protect its precious readership, who don't want to know whey they are hated by normal people in this country, so they delete comments that do not fit into the wanky narrative.

And that, boys and girls, is why the Guardian has to have a begging bowl out that takes up a big chunk of the main font page. There are just not enough sexually self sufficient, muesli-munchers to keep the paper alive for much longer!

Sunday 13 November 2016

When Clinton Betrayed Her followers

When a general has to surrender his army then he has one final task to perform: he has to stand in front of his soldiers and tell them that it was not their fault and that he is proud of their service. Throughout history many generals have performed that task with dignity, even though they were being torn up inside. It is the least they can do for the men that they have led to defeat.

On Tuesday the 8th November 2016 Hillary Clinton failed that task. Instead of going out to speak to her anguished followers who had gathered in New York to see her, she sent John Podesta, the Chairman of the Democratic National Committee, to speak on her behalf.

She had already spoken to Donald Trump and conceded the election to him, she had surrendered in other words, but she did not have the moral courage to face her supporters. Instead, by all accounts, she went into meltdown and cried hysterically backstage.

By the manner of her response to her defeat, she showed that she was unworthy of holding the nation's highest office. 

America has had a narrow miss and can congratulate itself that it does not have to worry about her ever again.

Thursday 10 November 2016

Reflections on the Revolution in America and Free Beer


I didn't have a bet on Brexit, 'cos I didn't think that we would win, but the American vote was too good to miss so I invested a few quid and walked away with sixty spendalucks when Trump strolled to victory.

Was I sure of the victory to come? No, but I figured that if America was in a full Brexit mode then the men in West Virginia who work deep underground digging coal might just turn out in force. That coal is sent to power the Pennsylvania smelting plants, so to succeed my bet needed those workers to haul themselves off to vote. Then the newly smelted steel goes to Detroit to build the muscle cars that America loves, so I had high hopes that the Michigan workers would join the growing throng. They all did, so I got myself some free beer.

Looking ahead, I doubt if Trump will actually build a real bricks and mortar wall on the Mexican border, but he will probably put up an electronic thing and call it the wall. He certainly doesn't give a stuff about all the green bollocks that the middle class wank like chimps over any more than we do, so that is good for coal and other heavy industries. That means support for real jobs that are productive of  the finished goods that come about when labour is applied to raw materials. 

The liberal middle classes are in meltdown just as they were after our Brexit victory, which is an entertainment all in itself. I note that some of them have been smashing windows and trying to riot, so I live in hopes that we will have a replay of 1972 when the Nixon voting hard hats turned out to slap the parents of today's demonstrators down. There could very well be another great wailing and smashing of teeth as those parasitic creatures are put back firmly in their place, which should make for good TV viewing here in the UK.

Finally, of course, the USA has as much a mature, developed polity as we do in the UK, so the sun will continue to shine as the institutions of America continue to function under their new, 45th President. There will then be a 46th in the fullness of time, and four years down the road when they repeat the whole exercise people will look back on the events of the 8th November 2016 and wonder what all the fuss was about.

Yet the Americans made history just like we did on the 23rd June 2016. The ordinary people in both countries did that by taking on a polity and demanding that it start to answer to their demands, rather than merely pandering to those of the parasitic middle classes.

All in all 2016 has been a revolutionary year in its own little way.

Wednesday 9 November 2016

Donald Trump's Victory Represents Brexit on Steroids



As the smoke clears over yesterday's American electoral battlefield three things are clear. First that Donald J. Trump will become the next President of the USA, secondly that the Republicans will control both Houses of Congress as well as all the Southern state legislatures, and finally that I have won £60 off William Hill for my bets on Trump. Of the three I reckon that the last is the most important to me.

For our country, the most important matter is that exactly a month ago, Dan DiMicco, Donald Trump's trade adviser pledged that the UK would be first in line for a trade deal with the USA, at the same time as he rejected the idea of free trade between the USA and the EU. We should remember that Obama said that we would be at the "back of the queue" for any trade deals if we left the EU. We rejected that blackmail in June and now events in the USA show that as far as America is concerned we were right to do that. 

What happened yesterday was a continuation of our Brexit vote, but on steroids.The ordinary people who either work in the private sector or are done over by it, gave a bit of payback to the people who have done so very well out of the new, globalised order. 

So yesterday was a victory for what the Americans call the hard hats. The men who dig deep under the soil of West Virginia to hack out the coal that goes to power a Pennsylvania smelting plant where the steel is produced that goes to build the Detroit muscle cars. All union men to the core, and proud to display their badges to prove it.

The defeated in America are of the same type as those who were defeated in the UK in our Brexit vote back in June. I call them the polyocacy, the parasitic class from the crappier institutions that degrade the name of university. They used to their willingness to sit around in boring meetings to take over both the Democrats in the USA and Labour in the UK, and they made them their parties and not ours.

They implicitly support globalisation as the rulers in both Britain and the USA are willing to allow members of the polyocracy to have plenty of well-paying non-jobs at the public's expense. They love the influx of third worlders because it creates more jobs for the polyocracy, especially in the teaching trade and social work industry. They also deny that this influx is directly responsible for the lack of well-paying, unionised jobs for us.

Yesterday they were schlonged, as the American say, or given a right hard shafting as we put it. Yesterday was in so many ways, a very good day for ordinary people indeed.

Saturday 5 November 2016

Federast Funnies 3


This is not the first time that some Federast has accused me of killing Jo Cox, which leaves me wishing that they would come up with some new insults as the old ones get a bit tiresome after a while.

I said that to him on the Guardian site, and also pointed out that I would not go running to the moderators 'cos I really get off on the hatred that Federasts display. Alas, someone did complain and the exchange was then deleted, but not before good old Uncle Ken had saved this wanker's words for posterity.

They only howl because they are afraid, and the more they howl the harder we laugh.

Friday 4 November 2016

A Very British Brexit Coup


Yesterday we had a coup. It was a very British coup, with no tanks on the street, but it was a coup nonetheless. The coupmongers were headed by a collection of wealthy foreigners, and bankrolled by a gaggle of super-rich expats, but it was still a coup. Three judges said that it really didn't matter that almost seventeen and a half million of us voted to leave the European Union, because it was all just an advisory vote, with Parliament having the final word. Needless to say, Members of Parliament can now be expected to start putting down hundreds of amendments to derail the process, with the aim being to drag the matter out to 2020, in the hope that events take over and a party wins the election that wants to keep us in the EU.

Also needless to say the metropolitan middle class who only woke up to the EU and began campaigning for it on the day after the polls closed, are now whooping with delight at what they fondly imagine is their masters' victory.

The decision demonstrates as nothing else could that our votes are nothing for the rich to worry about, as whatever we want can be overturned by  the state and its agents.

So it is now up to us to make it politically impossible for our voice to be ignored. We should blindside the coupmongers and their stooges by not fighting the coming battles in the way that they expect. They anticipate that we will whine about how the people's verdict has been overturned while they sit back and repeat the mantra that it was all purely advisory. They expect us to get bogged down in the minutia of legal debate, or maybe even just go away, having accepted that those who were born to rule over us know best.

 Let's not play that game. Instead we should talk about a coup, about judicial state agents who act only in the class interests of the rich and not us. The fact that it was men who wear what look like dead mice on their heads, rather than dark glasses and comic opera uniforms does not alter the fact that what they did amounted to a coup and it must be resisted as such.

It is for this reason that I am feeling rather chirpy today. The left are at their best when they are digging in for a long guerilla war against a capitalist state which they regard as illegitimate. The left fails when it loses the battle to persuade the people of the state's illegitimacy, but that battle has now already been half won, thanks to the three judicial stooges. 

We have been presented with an open goal that allows us to put the legitimacy of the state in the centre ground. We are the patriots, fighting for our country, against a foreign army of rootless cosmopolitans and their state hirelings. The fact that they are being cheered on by every big city weirdo in the land is just icing on the cake. We have the perfect cause, the perfect ground on which to fight and a collection of enemies that were almost created by a casting agency that sent out a call for actors who represent everything that normal British people loath.

I do not want to start counting our chickens just yet, but there is a fair wind blowing on our backs, that should enable us to make this about more than just Brexit. We can turn it into a fight about the future of our country, our democracy, and how we want both to be enabled in the future.

The Federasts who now find themselves in the position of cheerleaders for globalised capitalism have no idea of just what is about to hit them.

Sunday 30 October 2016

Federast Funnies 2


Sunderland has applied to become a City of Culture, something which the Guardian reported. The below the line comments then became an hysterical rant about Sunderland, the North East and the working class who had the temerity to ignore the polyocracy by voting for Brexit. Just read the comments if you don't believe me. This was my reply:

Just when you thought that the defeated Federasts couldn't get any more pathetic they turn up mob-handed at the dear old Graun to show the rest of us that there are still deeper levels to which they can sink. I cannot decide which comments are the most puerile, because they are all equally rancid, so I will just leave you with this thought. We are the majority. The provincial middle class and the urban working class acting together can outvote the sexually self sufficient denizens of the London bubble. If your taxes have to rise to pay for Sunderland then that is all well and good. You can howl all you want as we outnumber you and can force you to suck up higher taxation just as you are being forced to suck up Brexit.

My comment lasted about two minutes before it was deleted on the grounds of being offensive.

Offensive comments are what the trendy middle class shit who have made the Guardian their home page left on the site, but never mind. We outvoted them once, we can continue to do so in the future, and let's all continue laughing at them in the meantime.

A Short Guide to the Clinton Email Scandals



Hillary Clinton's email scandals probably send most people to sleep, but they are far more important than Donald Trump boasting to a friend about his shagging proclivities.Trump was just shooting a line with a crony; Clinton woes are legal and the two should not be confused.

There are two sets of Clinton emails. The first are what we might call the Podesta mails which Wikileaks has got hold of and which are being released in batches. John Podesta was the Chairman of the Democratic National Committee and someone hacked into his Gmail account and then uploaded the contents to Wikileaks. Clinton is blaming the wicked Russians, but it is just as likely to have been some kid in his bedroom. How anyone of Podesta's standing could use a Gmail account for sensitive inner-party matters is beyond me, but that is what the man did.

What the mails show is the shear level of fixing that went on to ensure that Clinton got the Democratic nomination for the presidency. In a nutshell, the National Committee that was supposedly running  a free and fair set of primary elections to choose a candidate was actually working hand in glove with one candidate, Hillary Clinton.

None of that is illegal, but it is so wonderfully sleazy that it makes Latin-American politics look as pure as the driven snow by comparison. When you add to it the vast amounts of money that were shovelled into the Clinton Foundation courtesy of her State Department links, then you can add African politics to the sleaze equation.

However, where the illegality comes in is via the Clinton server scandal, which does seem to show illegality on a vast scale. As Secretary of State Clinton should have used a protected, American government server and email account for her official business. Instead, she chose to set up her own system, based on her own server, where she mixed public and private emails together.

When the story of that server broke in 2015, Clinton handed over all the emails which she said were of an official nature, and deleted the ones that were purely private. The problem is that few people believe anything that she says, so the hunt is now on for the so-called private emails. The problem for Clinton is that if the mails were purely related to family matters why did she delete them?

One of the people who had an e-mail account on that sever was Huma Abedin, a senior political aide who was married to Anthony Weiner, who was forced to resign due to his own sex scandals. It turned out recently that Weiner had been sexting a 15 year old girl, so the FBI got involved in the case and found that the computer that he had been using for his sex chats also contained some of the deleted Clinton e-mails. If those deleted mails were purely related to family matters, why are they now turning up on the computer of a political aide?

It all sound horribly complicated and a bit trivial, bit it is far from that. Clinton was obliged by law to use a government approved e-mail account and server and she didn't. She then deleted thousands of e-mails which she claimed were purely personal and some of them are turning up on an aide's computer which suggests that they were actually official.

That leads to the final question: if these e-mail are official, what did Clinton have to hide by trying to delete them?

Clinton is a byword for sleaze and corruption, as the Podesta mails show, but these mails may show far more: they may show illegality that is far more important than the technical one of using a non-approved server.

Thursday 27 October 2016

Sarah Olney, Lib-Dem anti-Brexit Candidate for Richmond Supports Brexit


Meet Sarah Olney, the newly minted Liberal-Democrat candidate for Richmond in the forthcoming by-election. Zac Goldsmith is the Tory who has resigned over the expansion of Heathrow airport and who plans to fight the election as an independent who is opposed to the expansion. The Lib-Dems are also opposed, and want to make the contest about Brexit.

So why did they choose Sarah Olney who is on record as opposing another referendum on the issue? Another vote is exactly what the Lib-Dems have been whining about ever since they and every other Federast in this country was left with their arses hanging out of various windows on the 23 June this year. Now they have chosen a candidate who stands in opposition to the policy that her party thinks will save them from extinction.


Now, as the Telegraph pointed out, Sarah has since deleted her entire blog, but Google cache still has a copy of the post and I have now uploaded that to an internet archive site so everybody can read it at their leisure.

What it shows is that whilst Sarah Olney is not a Brexiteer, she is also not a supporter of her party's inane policy of trying to reverse Brexit via another referendum.

So why should the people of Richmond choose her over Goldsmith? He at least has the virtue of being consistent in his opposition to both Heathrow expansion and the European Union. The Lib-Dems on the other hand have a history of agreeing to anything if there is the chance of a whiff of power, as they proved in 2010 when they ditched their policy of opposition to an increase in student fees.

How can anyone in Richmond be sure that they will not abandon their opposition to the new runway if the price is right? They have a candidate who seems to accept Brexit, so that cannot now be an issue. Far better to stick with Goldsmith who has put his career on the line to oppose the airport plans I would have thought.

Monday 17 October 2016

Let's hear it for Donald Trump at 9/2

I'm not a gambler for the simple reason that I do not understand the thrill of that particular game, but I have just had a tenner on Donald Trump to win next month's American presidential election.

If I lose then a tenner is not going to break even my bank, but if I win then the laughs as the Guardianistas go into meltdown will make the Brexit vote pale into insignificance. The fact that I will be able to gloat about my small windfall will be the cherry on the cake.

I could argue that if the Trump core consituency turns out mob handed then he has a better than average chance of winning, but to be honest I can't be bothered.

This one is strictly for the laughs.

Friday 14 October 2016

Federast Funnies


 First we had soft Brexit which was offered in opposition to hard Brexit. Then the Graun came up with extreme Brexit a few days ago and now we have chaotic Brexit. It's wonderful, it really is. Every day something new and entertaining as we are given access to the minds of the Federasts as they slowly come to terms with the reality of their defeat.
 What do you reckon to the above off the cuff comment of mine to a Guardian story? I think it is quite mild, actually, but the Graun reckoned that it was "offensive" and deleted it from their site. Then they sent me an e-mail telling me that, which was when I fell about laughing.

You can almost hear Federast arseholes clenching, can't you?

Tuesday 4 October 2016

The Left Prefers Posture to Planning for Post-Brexit Britain


“Make the bonfire, make the bonfire, put the Tories on the top. Put the Blairites in the middle, and we’ll burn the fucking lot!”

An admittedly rather droll chant from some leftists who went and wasted an afternoon protesting at the Tory conference on Sunday. I say wasted because now that we are about to leave the EU, something which the left has wanted from the beginning, we really should be discussing the Labour Movement's post-Brexit aims.

What industries do we want to nationalise, as part of what economic plan? Do we need to invest in further education and technical universities, and if so, why are we investing millions in third rate institutions that just turn out yet more members of the social work industry or other parasitic local government wallahs?

People, the left were the bulk of the original Brexiteers, back when the Tories wanked dementedly over the EEC, seeing it as a way to keep us under control.

We have freed ourselves from that: now it is time to free ourselves from an economic system that only benefits the rich and their middle class stooges.

Inane chanting outside the Tory conference is not helping to put together a coherent response to the new times, is it?

Saturday 3 September 2016

The Federasts do not realise just how stupid they are



I am getting very worried about the Federasts, I really am.  Being stupid is one thing, but your average Federast is so thick that he thinks he's clever, and that is the root of all the problems that they have. I commented on this in One Man's Brexit, but it is ceasing to be funny and has become a bit pathetic.They really do need to come to terms with their utter stupidity, because only then can they begin to come to terms with the reality of their defeat.

I was in Manchester the other day, having a pint in a pub, and some woman sat at the next table saw my Brexit T-shirt. She leaned forward and asked me in a deep and serious tone if I had really voted to leave the EU. When I said that I had she leaned forward still further, and asked me what Brexit meant - so I told her that it meant leaving the fucking European Union!

During the campaign I once pointed out on Facebook that all my sons are native Spanish speakers, and that Spanish is the language that we all use when we are together. Quick as a flash a Federast jumped up and argued that I was denying my Spanish sons the right to move to the UK! People, I do not have Spanish sons, since being a Spanish speaker is not the same as being Spanish. My sons are all Mexican, and none of them give a stuff about the EU, or Spain come to that. Besides, they all have UK and Mexican passports so can come and go as they please to both countries.

The Federasts only started their campaign to stay in the EU the day after the polls closed, and now they have set up an outfit called Open Britain to try and reverse the decision. The problem is that OpenBritain.net is a long established site that aims at encouraging disabled people to come and visit Great Britain, and if you put Open Britain into Google it is that site which comes up first. The silly sods could not even come up with a name for their Federast front that someone else had not come up with years before them.

So come on, Federasts: if you are serious about reversing the vote, then start by analysing where you went wrong in the first round. That means facing up to the fact that you really are as thick as two short planks.

Wednesday 10 August 2016

The Grammar School Debate


I see that Teresa May has floated the idea of bringing back grammar and secondary modern schools, and the usual suspects are cheering or howling, depending upon their respective points of view. As an old secondary modern fellow I know the type of posting that I am supposed to write here, one that condemns the system that failed me so totally, but I can't because it didn't. 

One memory from my primary school sticks in my mind: the fear I had of the 11-Plus examination. I was not afraid of failing it, but I was terrified that I might pass the damn thing and have to go to the local grammar school. In my innocence, I believed that if you went to the grammar, aside from having to wear a poncy uniform, you had to stay there until you were 16, whereas I knew that the secondary moderns kicked out at 15. Even at that tender age I was bored shitless by school and just wanted to get the torture over with so that I could go off to work somewhere or other.

On the day in question I sat the exam and some weeks later I remember my mother telling me that I had got my wish and was going to the secondary modern. I remember jumping for joy and my mother clapped her hands at my enthusiasm.

Funnily enough, I found out in about 2010 from one of my cousins that if you stayed in bed on 11-Plus day then nobody asked you were you had been and you got an automatic pass to the secondary modern, so he and his three brothers had all done that. I mention that anecdote as an answer to the story that we will be reading time and time again as the idea of restoring the 11-Plus gets debated that everyone who went to a secondary modern felt a failure. Actually, a fair few of us did not give a stuff about going anywhere but a secondary modern.

My father had won a scholarship to the Manchester Art School back in the 1920s and according to my uncle, his brother, there were just two scholarship boys a year admitted back then. My father's compatriot went on to design, or help design, the Festival of Britain in 1951, whereas my dad ended up as a labourer at Mather and Platt's engineering works. He wasn't at the school very long, just a few weeks, because the middle class types who infested it made his life a misery, besides which the family was very poor, so everyone in the Bell Clan was very happy when he called it a day and went to work.

The uncle that I have just mentioned was a warehouseman, who used his gratuity money from the army when he got demobbed in 1946 to set up a small literary journal, and my dad used some of his to try and make a living as an artist, but neither succeeded in their respective aims. Years later, but before the Open University began, my uncle did a University of London External Degree in Law, completely on his own, with nobody to help him make sense of the text books. Then he managed to wangle his way into a cushy number with Manchester Council, but my dad stayed a labourer.

What all this meant was that I had family that believed in education as a good in itself, but who had a dislike for what passed for education in the schools. So my parents would buy me as many books as I wanted and always encouraged me to go off to the library to educate myself further, but they had no interest in pushing me to pass the 11-Plus.

My friends who did go to the grammar tended not to go to university, either. Most left at 16 and took jobs in local government, or became clerks in the factories where people like me worked. They wore suits and we were in overalls, but we earned more money than them, especially with overtime, because of our strong unions and the magic of time and a half.

I really think that the only people who gave a stuff about the abolition of the grammar schools were those members of the teaching trade who had a vested interest in change because they could see jam on their butties with the new system.

I have few memories of my secondary school, but I can remember the first day as if it were yesterday. We were dragooned into the hall by the headmaster, whose name I have long forgotten, and told that we were not to worry as Brookdale Park Secondary Modern was from that moment on Brookdale Park Comprehensive, as Manchester had abolished the 11-Plus. I had taken the exam just down the road, since my primary school came under Lancashire County Council, and they kept the two tier system for a few more years, which is why I had sat it.

Why would any of us be concerned, I remember thinking? We were the winners in all this since we were going to leave at 15 so we only had four more years of the fool to put up with. He went on to tell us that the school was then offering a full range of O-Levels for those who wanted to stay on the extra year and I tried to make myself as small as possible in case someone had the bright idea of signing me up for anything like that.

Some parents did sign their offspring up for the O-Level stream, but I am pleased to say that I stayed out of it. Pleased also to say that I took my dad's advice and kept my head down, made no waves, rarely got into trouble, and four years later I walked out of those gates for the last time one July day when I was still, just, 14. The following Monday I started bastard work, and over a decade later I went to university, but those are other stories for other times.

Not everybody wanted to go to a grammar school, that is a myth. Many of us were delighted to be at a secondary modern since we were expected to stop providing employment for the teaching trade at an early age, and we were only too happy to do just that. The notion that the grammar school was a ladder to success is also partly a myth since an awful lot of grammar school people did not go to university, they ended up as factory staff who often earned less than the factory workers.

So, what's my attitude towards the debate? I give a big shrug, since I had no interest in school when I was a schoolboy, so I'm hardly likely to develop one now. I educated myself in the libraries, and the internet is the greatest library that the world has ever known

Thursday 4 August 2016

Brexit: For a New Country is now a best seller


I had a good evening earlier on. The beer in the pub was just right, and it felt like an angel weeping on my tongue as I poured it down my neck. The conversation flowed freely as the good old free and frank exchanges of views took place.

Then I wandered home and discovered that Brexit: For a New Country is now an Amazon best seller. That was when a good evening became pretty bloody perfect.

Not as perfect as Salma Hayek calling me up to offer a quick knee trembler down Leith Docks, should she ever feel in the mood for a bit of Mancunian rough, but pretty close. Yeah, pretty close indeed.

I think you should read my other books as well. Go on, make an old man even happier than he is already.

Wednesday 27 July 2016

One Man's Brexit - now available to download from Amazon

One Man's Brexit is now available to download from Amazon. The price is 99p, unless you are a member of Amazon Unlimited in which case you can always get it free.

On the 23 June 2016 the British people shook the political system to its core by voting to leave the European Union. One Man's Brexit is an account of those momentous events as seen through the eyes of a rank and file volunteer in the Brexit campaign. I helped man a street stall, and the series of essays that make up One Man's Brexit really do give a picture of what life was like for the foot soldiers of the Brexit army. If you want to know why over half a century of British state policy was overturned in just 24 hours, then I reckon that One Man's Brexit is a good place to start.

One Man's Brexit is a collection of  rewritten postings from this blog with a dash of original content, that now joins my other scribblings. If you want to relive the glory days of our referendum triumph and join in the mockery of the Federasts, especially the dickheads who forgot to vote, then this is the one for you.

Monday 18 July 2016

We need a new voting system for our new political day



When I wrote Brexit: For a New Country I predicted that a vote to leave the European Union would lead to chaos in the political system:

It is funny the way in which the Federasts who want this country to remain under the thumb of Brussels think that they can predict the future. They fill the newspapers and television screens with their lurid fantasies about how terrible life will be, but the simple truth is that they don't really know what will happen once the country is independent anymore than I do.

Certainly the middle class who have taken control of the Labour Party, and who tell us that the Tories will remain in power forever unless we remain under the cold hand of Brussels, are talking utter bollocks of the highest order. The notion that the political class, all of them, right across the board, will just be able to carry on as if nothing has happened after the people have just rejected the cornerstone of over half a century of political and economic policy is just too ludicrous to take seriously.
 I have to be honest and say that it feels nice to be proven right. As I look at the post-referendum chaos in our political system, a chaos that we caused just by rejecting what our betters wanted for us, it is obvious that we are in the morning of a new political day and for a lot of us the future looks a lot brighter than the past ever did.

We have done what the Federasts told us was impossible and got rid of not just a Prime Minister, but pretty much the entire cabinet as well. Just about the only senior Tory figure still standing who played a major part in the referendum campaign is Boris Johnson, with almost everyone else now sitting on the back benches, punch drunk and baffled.

On the other side of the House of Commons, Labour is engaged in yet another bout of internal blood letting, and this time it could be a terminal battle that will leave only the dead on the field as the fighting ends. That would not have happened had we trotted along like obedient little doggies and voted to remain in the European Union

The two main political parties really are like the rotten husks of long dead trees that lean against each other for support. It is quite likely that if one collapses it will take the other with it, which is a good thing when you think about it since neither outfit is fit for purpose.

Labour was established to represent the urban working class, the people who leave school at an early age and who rely on collective action, through their unions or via the Labour Party in parliament, to ameliorate their conditions. Today that party only truly speaks for the polyocracy of local government workers who dominate its membership. In that sense it does not really matter who wins the party's current bout of internal blood-letting, since neither faction really seems to give a tinker's cuss for the people living on the council estates who rely on tax credits to supplement their incomes. Still less does it even try to speak for the skilled, especially the skilled self-employed, who are battling to kept their heads above the deluge of foreign scab labourers that Britain's membership of the European Union has brought to these shores.

The Tories seem to be in somewhat better shape, in that at least they managed to cobble together a new leadership, but the divisions in their ranks between the socially liberal globalists who are employed in the financial sector and the socially conservative shiresmen are there for all the see. The Tories relied on the votes of the people who were told that if they kept their noses clean, got a clutch of decent A-Levels with maybe a degree in something or other afterwards, then a white collar office job as a bank clerk would be theirs for life. Globalisation and new technology are destroying the cushy world that they were led to expect would be theirs just as much as it has already destroyed those in industrial Britain a generation ago.

Neither Labour nor the Tories can fully comprehend that by voting for Brexit we were voting against free market globalisation, just as much as were were voting against social liberalism.

Given this, and given that the two parties are basically dead from the neck up, the need for new parties that represent the real divisions in our country has now become pressing. The giant coalitions that try to cover every interest have failed, and what is needed are at least two new parties, one that would be socially liberal and globalist, the other socially conservative and regulatory. They could keep the old names of Conservative and Labour, as a realignment is possible within parties, which is why the American Democratic Party no longer supports the extension of slavery into the territories, but the realignment has to come about for the new politics to begin.

Standing in the way of that realignment is the voting system, which has to become more representative of the population and the way in which we vote. Back in 1997 the Jenkins Commission reported that the UK should adopt the Additional Member system that is now used in both Scottish and Welsh elections, with considerable success in both countries.

The bulk of the seats would be the single member constituencies that we  have at present, but with a regional set of lists seats that would be elected on a proportionate basis. Jenkins suggested that only twenty percent of the seats should be additional members to avoid getting into the coalition habit, but my feeling is that the weaker a government is the better life is for the ordinary people, so coalitions really do need to be the other of the day. Thus a two-thirds constituency, to one-third AM contingent would meet the requirements under normal circumstances.

Jenkins also suggested that the constituencies should be elected by the Alternative Vote system, where the voter lists his candidate in other of preference. That was rejected for Scotland and Wales, and should probably also be ruled out for Westminster as well, since it makes life complicated. Let the constituency members be elected by the simple plurality, first past the post system as it is more usually called, that we have at present.

The additional members would represent regions of the country. Northern Ireland, Scotland and Wales are all small enough in terms of population that they could be regions in their own right, but England would need to be divided, probably into the nine existing regions. If each of the twelve regions had 16 additional members then that comes to 192, which is almost a third of the 600 member House of Commons that is already planned.

Those members would be elected by party list, with the parties nominating more candidates than there are seats to fill. That way, if someone dies or retires, the next person on the list is able to take over without the need for a by-election. Needless to say, constituency vacancies would continue to be filled via by-elections as they are at present.

The advantage of this would be to remove the need for parties that are giant coalitions that are only held together by inertia.  We could have two core parties, one socially liberal and the other socially conservative, with a myriad of smaller parties to the right and left of the big two. The old Monday Club Tories could have their party as could the people on the council estates who still believe in the 1945 consensus. UKIP, if it still exists following British withdrawal from the EU could represent the smaller towns as it does already, but secure in the knowledge that votes in those towns would lead to MPs in Westminster. Regional parties could exist to push their particular interests, as could parties that seek to represent women, ethnic minorities and the disabled.

Compromises would still be made, of course, but they would be open and above board, unlike today where they are made behind closed doors with the political elite deciding what few concessions they need to make to the rest of us to hold power firmly in their own hands. 

Let's be honest, here. We have just overturned over half a century of British political policy with our votes, and left the political elite and their trendy hangers on with their collective arses hanging out the window. Compared to that, changing the voting system so that it reflects the views and wishes of the people who are still ignored by it on a day to day basis looks to me like a piece of cake.

So what are we waiting for? Let's have 'em!

Friday 15 July 2016

Three mistakes that the Federasts made which cost them the vote


The Federasts should have won the referendum, let's be honest about that. They had everything going for them, including the entire political machinery of all the main parties, a big chunk of the media, and the A/B social class who work for that media. They could use fear as their main weapon, and argue that we were offering nothing more than a  step into an uncertain future, which when you think about it is the potent argument that won the Scottish independence referendum for the Unionists in 2014.

They failed partly because of their own hubris, but mainly, I think,  because they did not realise that we were voting for different things than them. The Federasts are mainly social liberals, and they ran slap bang into social conservatism, and the latter won.

There were three factors that made our victory certain, and all of them were handed to us on a plate by the Federasts. The first was using individuals that a lot of people regard as downright weird to front the Federast campaign, the second was the gloating by rich dilettantes at working class people, and the third was the failure to take Brexit seriously. Put them all together and defeat for social liberalism was pretty much certain.

I don't know who had the bright idea to put Eddie Izzard up against Nigel Farage on the BBC's last Question Time before the polls opened, but it had to be worth a few thousand votes to Leave at least. You see, if you are a metrosexual hipster, then Izzard is the post-modernist voice that points to the future, but if you are a normal person then he is a weird bloke in women's clothing. Say what you like about Nigel Farage, but he comes over as being fairly normal, what with his wife, children, beer and fags.

The use of Izzard reminded people that whilst not all Federasts are weird, all weirdos tend to be Federasts.

In any fight between normality and weirdness, then normality can be expected to win because there are just more normal people in the country.

Then we had the site of Bob Geldof and his merry band of wealthy dilettantes mocking the fishermen. It was not only Geldof aboard his floating gin palace, we must also include the people who could afford to take time off work, then hire small dingies to sail in and out of the fishing flotilla. Trust me, the site of the rich flaunting their wealth at hard working men whose livelihoods have been destroyed by the EU and its bureaucracy was worth any number of votes for Leave.

Again, it reminded people that whilst not all rich bastards and their middle class stooges are Federasts, all Federasts come into those two categories. So the vote came down to a contest between the weird and the wealthy against the normal working people people of Britain.

Finally, the Federasts convinced themselves that they were the bright ones and we were the people too stupid to take seriously.

What they did not realise is just how heterogeneous the Brexiteers are. The activist core was made up of old socialists like me who have no interest whatsoever in social policy, but want the 1945 corporatist consensus restored so that everyone can earn a buttie without having to bust a bollock to get it. We were the first Brexiteers because we were the ones who argued in the 1983 General Election that the EEC was a capitalist plot to undermine socialism. We believed as we still do in a transfer of wealth from the wealthy to working people and their families, and accept fully that you cannot make a socialist omelet without cracking a few capitalist eggs. The biggest egg of them all is the European Union, so we have wanted to destroy from its very beginning.

We were joined by the solid, mustn't grumble, get on with life, middle classes of the 1992 Maastricht generation, who had decided that the EU was just not for them. Working together, activists from those two strands set up small anti-EU groups in the early 1990s that studied the EU and took it very, very seriously. Just about every Brexit group in this referendum had at least one activist from the those days who had dedicated his life to understanding the EU and could answer just about any question that was raised by a puzzled member of the public.

Not only that, but we could work in all areas and speak to just about everyone. The socialists could work the council estates and the old Tories could get to work with the provincial middle classes. It sounds as if we were saying different things to different people, but the message was actually pretty much the same because the middle classes are often as happy with railways and utilities that are in public ownership as we are.

The Federasts seem to live in a bubble in all the big cities, and could only speak to other members of that bubble. So they spoke to each other and reinforced each other's existing beliefs, all the while ignoring the wider society which was left entirely to us.

They seemed to have believed that the rest of society would just trot along behind them as they wandered off to the polls, assuming they did, since turnout was so low in the under 34 year age groups.

What they did not realise is that people were voting not just for their country, but against the Federast vision of what the country should be. We don't want to live in a land of wealthy weirdos and we turned out mob handed to make sure that we don't have to.

Friday 1 July 2016

Guest Posting: The Road to Canterbury – The Brexiteer’s Tale


 Tim Collard was one of our men in Peking for many years before becoming HM Consul-General in Hamburg until his retirement. He is fluent in both German and Mandarin and now forms a part of the Oxford Union in exile which meets up every Wednesday evening in an Edinburgh swill shop to discuss matters of great weight and drink beer. He has resolved to enjoy a long retirement at the expense of the hard working family taxpayers of Nuneaton.

In 1998 the annual convention of the Universal Postal Union was held in Beijing. (When writing a story, always draw the reader in with a real zinger of a first sentence.) At the time I was working in the British Embassy, analysing and reporting on China’s international relations. But, at such conferences, it was always essential for the EU – only 15 members at the time – to arrive at a common position to set before the delegates. This, of course, would need to be co-ordinated, and it was agreed to hold a meeting on the first day of the convention to assess the papers and arrive at a unified response. We all had advance instructions from our capitals, and there seemed to be no important points of difference between us.

Now, EU liaison was part of my portfolio. In theory a small part, consisting of attending one monthly coordination meeting. But there was no escape; this one was clearly a job for Muggins. So I sallied forth from my ‘safe space’ in the Embassy and hied me to the venue, a hotel ten miles away on the edge of town, where I met up with my regular muckers from the monthly coordination sessions.

Several hours later I reported back to base.

"Hello, Tim, how did the meeting go?"
"Um……"
"You will be back with us tomorrow, won’t you? It’s pretty busy…."
"Um……well, we haven’t actually started yet."
"WHAT?"
"You see, we took about three hours to collect and collate all the papers from one secretariat or other."
(My head of section slapped his forehead, but had enough experience to know that I wasn’t kidding and hadn’t been skiving.)
"And then – I’m afraid there’s been a complication."
"Oh?"
"Well, there’s been a row over the designation of the Palestinian delegation…."
(Head of section repeated his action, and his thoughts, from the last parenthesis.)
"And we all have to go back to capitals to agree the wording."
(Great sigh of resignation.)

I should point out that there is virtually no overlap between working hours in China and Europe. We’d only get the new instructions overnight, and next morning it would be once more unto the breach. In a further complication, all the telegram traffic would be classified, and we couldn’t use the convention centre’s fax machines. So it was all haring around in the car with shedloads of paper between two places ten miles apart, with Beijing traffic well on the way to becoming the gently undulating car park it is today.

You can guess where this is going. Were the fifteen sets of instructions sent by the fifteen capitals to the fifteen delegates identical, by any chance? Were they……. So there was nothing for it except to spend hours trying to agree new forms of words, and then send the new draft back to capitals for overnight consideration. And the next day the process would resume. And the next, and the next. I should add that at no point were we ever in contact with, let alone under pressure from, either the Israelis or the Palestinians to slant the wording in their direction. It was an entirely internal circle-jerk.

Meanwhile my Embassy colleagues were going up the wall, as we were a small team – seven I think – and the 99% of my job which I was prevented from doing was either not getting done at all, or having to be covered by colleagues who were quite sufficiently occupied with their own jobs. (I was discovering that they don’t call it the Universal Postal Union for nothing.) I asked my boss whether it might not be better to pull me out and let it go on without the UK (a proto-Brexit, in other words). No, he said, EU etiquette wouldn’t allow that. I remembered that many member states had much smaller Embassies than we did, and they weren’t pulling out either. We’d just have to keep right on to the end of the road.

And every day the bulging briefcase in the back of the car racing against the clock through Beijing rush-hour traffic. To my eternal shame I once caused a minor accident when just for a moment haste drove out due care and concern. My bosses had resigned themselves to losing my services (expensive if not necessarily valuable) for a day; they lost them for two whole weeks. When I say ‘expensive’, I don’t just mean my pay, which was generous if hardly bankeresque; but you, O taxpayer, were also paying for my 4-bedroom city flat and my children’s education in international schools which – I swear – cost more than Eton. To do a job which I wasn’t able to do because I was fossicking around in a spanking new Chinese hotel arguing about Middle Eastern semantics and knocking people off bikes for two weeks.

And still they are no nearer to solving the dispute over the postal problems between Israel and Palestine, or any others for that matter. And no-one writes letters anyway these days except to dun people for money. And the poor bastard who is my successor has now got 28 sets of slightly-differently-worded instructions to deal with. (For a little while, anyway.) Friends – the EU isn’t all shiny happy people holding hands and singing Ode to Joy. Britain has been a member for 43 years. The total time wasted by highly-paid civil servants in this sort of palaver runs to a hell of a lot more than 43 years. As for the cost, it would make your calculator go all squiggly.

This tale could have been a great deal more Chaucerian. I discovered, just too late, that a young lady in whom I maintained a strategic minority interest had been attending a week-long residential convention at an adjacent hotel. That might have, er, changed the character of the narrative considerably. But heigh-ho.

I assure you, dear Remainer friends – and relatives – that my Leave vote contained not the slightest trace of racism or xenophobia. But enough is enough.
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