Showing posts with label UKIP. Show all posts
Showing posts with label UKIP. Show all posts

Tuesday, 5 May 2015

Democracy, Democracy, It's Good For You and It's Good For Me

Random thoughts on the upcoming British Election, because democracy

David Cameron could give two squirts of piss

For the first few weeks of the campaign the current PM really looked like he couldn't be arsed with the whole rigmarole. He refused to take part in debates, visibly irritated at being quizzed on his record and had a re-election strategy that consisted of jerking his thumb at picture of Ed Miliband and pulling a face and if questioned just honking 'long term economic plan' and looking smug (you can read more about the utter genius of that long term economic plan here) At some point around the halfway mark somebody obviously pointed out that this wasn't coming across very well because he subsequently appeared on telly waving his arms around and shouting 'by golly, I'm motivated' which, of course, convinced everyone.

Since then the Tory line of attack appears to be a three pronged approach of constant slandering of opponents, spending promises based on money that they have repeatedly and unambiguously said does not exist and suggesting that the votes of those people registered in Scotland are somehow illegitimate. While this may be enough for them to win in the short term, in the long term this is damaging to people's perception of politics, damaging to the economy and damaging for the union of crowns that less than a year ago the PM was getting all wobbly lipped about. The PM has been given a chance to communicate the ideals and principles behind his brand of conservatism and wasted it on short sighted politicking.

David Cameron wants to win because he doesn't want to lose, which, as far as motivation goes is fine when playing rugger or quidditch or whatever it is posh people do, but is nowhere near good enough when you're asking for the chance to lead the nation

Ed Milliband is not, and will never be, cool

The Tory press did kind of shoot themselves in the foot by portraying Ed Milliband as a man so inept and awkward it's a good day if he's put his trousers on the right way round. While it was fun during the life of the parliament, come the increased scrutiny of the election campaign anything shy of Mr Miliband transmogrifying into Some Mothers do 'Ave 'Em era Michael Crawford meant that he's exceeded expectations. Still the subsequent screeching U-turn depiction of him as a maniacal Marxist meddler determined to subvert the democratic process and impose Russell Brand on the nation's daughters hasn't really convinced either.

In my opinion Ed comes off across as a reasonably principled man, with a functioning brain in his head and with views that broadly coincide with my own. However there's a reason that the initial line of attack was to draw attention to his innate dorkiness and that reason is, at the risk of sounding redundant - the man is innately dorky. I would hasten to add that dorky is in no way the same thing as inept or weak willed, but there have been fewer moments more cringe inducing than when, transparently stage managed, he starts dropping his aitches, telling us that we've "gotta know, that ain't gonna happen" and then awkwardly eye fucking the camera. True, all politicians do this shit, but Mr Miliband is particularly bad at it and I wish he'd stop.

The man's both a gonk and a wonk and rather than trying to fight that he should own it. Besides, what other world leaders are there who are really, genuinely cool? Angela Merkel looks like she had fun once and hated it, Vladimir Putin has the air of a man who will send you unsolicited dick picks and I'm willing to bet money that Francoise Hollande owns multiple airfix models. sure, Obama could be perceived as possessing a somewhat louche charisma, but then you remember he answers to the name Barry and geeks out over Conan the Barbarian.

Scottish people don't count for some reason

You may remember back in September there was a whole referendum on whether Scotland would leave the union. In the end they opted to stay on the understanding that further powers would be devolved to Edinburgh and people were dead glad. Or they were for about a couple of hours until the PM decided to use the platform of the referendum result to attack the injustice of Scottish MP's having an influence in Westminster on legislation that only pertains to England and/or Wales. While there's a case to be made there it's complicated by the fact that, due to the disparity in population between the home nations, most laws effecting England will have a knock on effect in other parts of the kingdom. Suffice to say it's a complicated issue and emotive issue and there's a time and a place to raise it. Unsurprisingly this is not less than 24 hours after one part of the country was having a long hard think of buggering off and setting up it's own state. With blackjack! And hookers!

Since that time, against the backdrop of sky rocketing support for the Scottish National Party, there's been increasingly shrill suggestions that, because the SNP's raison d'etre is seperatism, they should not be able to make up part of any UK government - by which logic all UKIP MEP's should be resigning their positions.

The election on Thursday is a general election pertaining to the whole of the United Kingdom. Scotland is a part of that kingdom. If the people of Scotland should see fit to elect Bobby Davros and his ever so wonderful vibrating hula girls to parliament then to parliament they shall go, where they will have the same freedoms as any other political party, I've been to Scotland and the people there talk and write and say things and generally exhibit all the signs of being functioning human beings with a capacity for higher thought. It's therefore reasonable to assume the people there are aware that the party that many of them are voting for are mathematically incapable of forming a government by themselves and it's therefore reasonable to assume that there's a preference for a coalition (formal or otherwise) including the SNP. The main Westminster parties are free to reject such an arrangement, but to suggest it's illegitimate due to the provenance of one of the players is utter bollocks of the highest order.

The whole UKIP thing stopped being funny a while ago

The Hell in a Handcart gang were meant to be the main attraction in this election, storming the battlements of political correctness armed with nothing more than a pint of mild and good old fashioned common sense. Instead their performance has been somewhat ineffective and sad, like an old man shouting at the kid's playing outside his window, but who's too infirm to get up out of his chair to chase them off. Last year we had Mike Read's UKIP calypso (AKA the worst thing ever) which confidently predicted that Farage would form the next government, now it's entirely possible they'll come out the other side of the election with fewer MP's than they went in. In response the party's gone a bit tinfoil helmet, claiming that the bad polls and coverage are the result of liblabcon (sigh) conspiracy, reporting people who make jokes about the party to the police, going to "war" against the BBC (which doesn't extend to cancelling publicity appearances and interviews) and adding the Scots to the list of Nasty Foreigners Wot We Hate (please see above).

The kippers have always reminded me of a line from The Simpsons where Bart is running for class president: "My opponent says there are no easy answers. I say they're not looking hard enough!" Unfortunately there will always be a percentage of people who would like to live in a world where every grievance in the world can be put down to the European Union and immigration. Therefore I don't think UKIP will be going anywhere for a long time yet. Nor do I think Farage will dissapear if he fails to win his seat, rather he'll do a Putin and take a backseat role for a few years before resuming the leadership. What I hope is that 2014 will represent a high watermark for the party, although I am somewhat pessimistic on that front


This is going to drag on and on and on and on... 

What looks likely to happen this Thursday is that the Tories will win the most seats, but not enough to form a government, and with too few potential allies to get any legislation passed. Therefore Labour will form a government backed by an SNP who would do less self harm renaming themselves the Saucy Naughty Perverts than being seen to enable the Tories. While such an outcome is constitutionally legitimate and it could be argued that over 50% of the votes cast were for a progressive party of some stripe, meaning that such a government would be an accurate reflection of the result, the fact that the blue team got the most votes would held up as proof that the arrangement is all kinds of bullshit. Even if there's no loophole for the Tories to wrangle their way back into government or get a second general election called, the fallout from such a result will last far beyond the election, probably for the duration of the parliament. Even if Cameron concedes and goes quietly into the night I cant really imagine the Murdochs or the Dacre's of the world doing likewise.

Or, alternately the Conservatives will cobble enough support to form another coalition or govern as a minority in which case they can resume Operation Plebshaft. Four weeks in and I'm sick of the general election, but whichever way it goes I suspect the ball ache's set to continue for a while yet. The below's by Cassetteboy, I suspect most people reading this will have already seen it, but what the heck.



I completed the Sunderland 10k on Sunday despite some truly pissy horrible weather conditions. Thank you for anyone who sponsored me. You are not only generous, but devastatingly attractive.

Love and Fishes

Dave Denton

Sunday, 12 October 2014

Busting Makes Me Feel Good

It transpires that we are under attack. I refer not to any terrorist group or  or nation state, but the army of black eyed ghost children that have apparently apparated around the world, at least according to The Daily Star. The Star is hardly a paper of record. It is a paper for those who get thinky pains when trying to read The Sun. It long ago abandoned any pretence at actual journalism in preference of regurgitating reality TV press releases, creatively interpreting human interest stories from local newspapers (Elvis impersonator skateboards down Snowdonia, that kind of thing) and, when all that's been tried, straight out fucking lying. Therefore National Enquirer-esque stories about the undead are hardly new ground and barelyworth commenting on. What is noteworthy is the way they've been hammering away at it. Over the past fortnight it's been on the front cover at least half a dozen times, probably more.

Although, to be fair, fuck all else was going on during this time

Sunday, 18 May 2014

Darling Buds of May



Spring has finally sprung here in sunny, sunny Sunderland. Windows have been thrown and coats have been cast off. The  air is filled with music and the sea has transformed from its usual sludgy grey colour to an inviting, sparkly blue. Pigeon chested young boys and wrinkly old men alike have stripped to the waist and are parading round the town in a manner that is making the rest of us feel slightly queasy. And once again my head is spinning as I grapple with the realisation that if I want to sit in the park, read and eat ice cream then I bloody well can, because I'm a goddamn adult and can eat as much goddamn ice cream as I feel like, so shut up. Happily for me the good weather has coincided with a weeks leave from work, meaning I find myself in the happy situation of having nothing to do and a whole lot of time in which to do it. I have no responsibilities beyond vague ambition to put my flat in some semblance of order and a not particularly anticipated visit to the doctors in the next few days (It transpires I require a handsomectomy as, apparently, I have been handsoming for far too long and far too hard*). 

There's also the Euro elections later in the week. Normally my interest in these would hover just above the nil mark, if for no other reason than round these parts you could pin a red rosette to a three legged dog and it'd win. This year however there is the rise of UKIP to contend with, a party that feel the need to tell people, unprompted, they are non racist and then proceed to run an election campaign based on foreigners coming over here and taking our jobs and about how discomforting it is when swarthy gentlemen move in next door to you. Depressingly, despite coming on like the political wing of the Daily Mail, it looks like they might actually win the thing, which, given they have no sitting MP's and were unheard of ten years ago is admittedly impressive, but ultimately depressing, like knocking yourself out with the smell of your own farts. Most people seem to be putting it down to a stick-it-to-the-man/a-plague-on-both-your-houses sentiment amongst the electorate (that, perhaps ironically, appears to be Europe wide), because nothing says anti-establishment like a party led by the white, middle aged, privately educated son of a stock broker. Frustratingly attempts to engage, reason and debate have been few and far between, with too many attempts to counter the party boiling down to drawing attention the fact that UKIP has a lot of reactionary nutters in its ranks, which is as much news as Noah building an ark, and is too easily dismissed as smears by the 'LibLab Con' (a phrase so steeped in fuckwittery that I actually got slightly angry typing it). It was therefore somewhat gratifying to listen to a rather prickly interview that Nigel Farage did with LBC where he was subjected  to the sort of aggressive grilling that, rightly or wrongly, we should expect to be given to any party leader. More of this, please. But next time try to bring in the utter bollocks that is their economic policy.

The above doodle is for a story I've been working on, provisionally titled Stitchskin. I write "working on" as if there is any other state my various projects ever exist in. My own, ever evolving, standards coupled with the fact that I write at the same speed that old folk make love means that I've been on with it for fucking ever, a Sisyphusean task that'd be utterly dispiriting if I didn't take joy from the act of creation. Common sense tells me to put the whole thing aside and maybe try my hand at something else, like, perhaps, joinery. However, like a loose flap of skin on the roof of my mouth, I find myself unable to forget it or leave it alone. Maybe some day it'll get it'll reach a state of demi-semi completeness and I'll be able to get it out there. Until that time it's a good source of inspiration as any when I'm looking for something to draw. Below is another picture of the protagonist (Meg Thomas. In case you care. I suspect you don't) done way back when. Because why not?


Love and Fishes

Dave Denton

*Warning: possibly bullshit