Blog 10 (Thousand Spoons)

by forzabahab

Simple Simon Says

*sigh* Look, this one comes with a caveat.

I know that the Daily Mail, that rat’s nest of paedophilia (“Heidi Klum’s 8 year old daughter is all grown up!”), homophobia, systematic xenophobia, and almost every other -ism, -phobia, and -filia that normal society doesn’t like, exists for only two reasons. To give succour and respectability to bigots, and to take trolling and turn it into an Olympic sport.

Step forward Simon Heffer, latest in a long line of sputtering ruddy faced buffoons producing extreme opinions on a deadline, for money. If Central Casting were looking for a loud mouthed idiot to do a scene in a suburban pub or golf club, with his own tankard behind the bar and a ready line in leering, sweaty patter for the long suffering barmaids, he’d be the man you pick. And he has the opinions to match.

Simon Heffer. "Hello ladies"

Simon Heffer. “Hello ladies”

He’d wobble over to you, G&T in hand, and regale you with a litany of drivel about almost every subject under the sun. And he’d be wrong about every one of them. Not wrong in a ‘oh I didn’t think that through but I meant well’ kind of way, but in the cynical, sneering, hateful way of the idiot the world over. Every view is designed to spread hate and fear and negativity. If there is anything positive, it’s delivered in with a caveat of self-centred ignorance. He’ll spend all day arguing that he pays too much tax, and at the same time make a huge show of putting £20 in a Help For Heroes bucket, loudly complaining that ‘they do a great job and it’s disgusting that the government don’t give them the equipment/manpower/rehabilitation facilities they need’. His brain hasn’t evolved enough to link the two statements. Or if it has he chooses to ignore it, which is worse.

Latest in his long line of bollocks is his assertion that Scotland should be encouraged to vote in favour of independence. It’s not some tear stained paean to a regrettable but inevitable parting of the ways though. Oh no, Simon wants them to fuck off because they’re costing us a fortune, and he wants to pay less tax.

Now I quite like Scotland. Their football fans are, on the whole, brilliant. They invented golf, which gives boring people something to do rather than clogging up the pubs for everyone else. They have 2 bank holidays to get over New Year’s Eve. And more importantly, they saw the Tories coming a mile off, and have generally given them the middle finger. (I’m not particularly a fan of the other sides by the way, but they are such evil cunts that they simply must be stopped at any cost). If they were to decide to break away I’d be a bit upset on balance. It’s just going to cause such upheaval on a personal level for so many people. But, if that’s what they want then I’m cool with it.

Heffer sees them as his wet dream come true. An entire nation of Labour voting benefit scroungers, who probably would harbour terrorists given half a chance and let Muslim women walk about wearing veils and bin bags over their heads. He gets to fire all his bigot arrows at once. Ignore the hordes who have given their lives for King/Queen and country. They don’t count in his misty eyed view of conflict, which consists of moustachioed lieutenants called Binky, who spent the war sending Cockneys to be slaughtered, while pining for Virginia, their intended. (Let’s ignore the fact that Virginia is getting skewered by Soames, the gardener, who has looked at the war, thought about it, and done a bang up job faking a gammy leg. Home by Christmas? Please no.)

All the money we’re going to save won’t, of course, be going to any of the many good causes that he uses as a fig leaf for his greed. In his heart of hearts he and his ilk don’t care about the NHS, education, defence, or any one of a myriad of services our taxes provide for us. No, once we’ve bid the Scots goodbye he will start a campaign to lower taxes, arguing that since we don’t have those moochers on the payroll any more we don’t need to take more of his hard earned wedge. It’s greed wrapped in a patina of altruism, and more offensive for its transparency. I wouldn’t even mind if he was going to do anything worthwhile or interesting with his extra cash, but what he’ll do is sit at home wanking himself into thin air over the size of his ISA, sat by a fire in an awful McMansion with a glass of brandy on the go. No friends, no life, just a bulging bank account, gout, and sepia tinted memories of how the country used to be, and how he’d like it now.

I have the same kinds of memories of childhood. It’s always sunny, and I’m riding round on my bike with a lolly stick in the spokes like I’m in fucking CHiPs, wearing cut down jeans, box fresh Adidas (always; there must be standards), and a t-shirt. Stop off at the park for a game of football where we win 46-38, and only leave as it gets dark and I get called home to Starsky and Hutch and a fish supper.

Then I remember that I’m really only dreaming about the summer of 1976. The living 4 to a room, council housing, and outside toilets have no place in my musings, even though they were actually the default state. What Heffer wants never really existed. It’s like watching Downton Abbey and wanting to go back to then, thinking that working class people lived like that when in reality their lives were awful. Still, let’s kick a whole country to the kerb eh? It’s one step closer to Utopia……

The Myth Of Fingerprints

Bob Crow is a magician. He watched throughout the 80s as Thatcher sold us things we already owned and decided to top it. This superb conjurer took one of the most straightforward jobs in the world, driving a tube, train and managed to get his members FIFTY GRAND A YEAR for doing it. You can’t get lost. You barely have to be there, the trains virtually drive themselves (part of the reason they don’t go DLR and have driverless trains is because they think it would freak people out to see an apparently driverless train hurtling into the station. Which I kind of get, but still…). Sure, you might be up close and personal to a suicide, but when you consider that 80 people killed themselves that way in 2011, compared to the 3.5 million journeys that happen on the network every day, it’s probably not something that needs a huge pay rise to get over being scared of.

Apart from that where’s the downside? You’re indoors, you get a seat on every journey, and as long as you don’t open your door to anyone when you’re going through South London you’re golden. A GRAND A WEEK. Genius, no?

Bob Crow. "Nothing in this hand, nothing in this hand"

Bob Crow. “Nothing in this hand, nothing in this hand”

And now he’s got the cleaners on strike because the contractors want to make sure that the person clocking in to work is the person they hired. This means that people can no longer lie in bed while a mate does their shift for them (or work somewhere else while an illegal immigrant works cash in hand in their stead). They also put in some terrorist scenarios out of a Jeffrey Archer book, but we know it’s all about the money really. Crow is arguing that their human rights are being infringed, as the fingerprints will be stored, to be used by third parties or passed onto various unmentioned evil bodies.

The machine doesn’t read fingerprints. The digitised code will be deleted once you’ve clocked out. They won’t be able to share the data with anyone else, even if they wanted to. Bob Crow will style this out and get what he wants. The man is a magician. he should be negotiating for us in the EU. They’d end up paying us. Brilliant.

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