keresaspa: (Cartman)
Hell, even I think I've been away too often recently. The joys of growing up in a warzone, I suppose. And let it be known too that the following load of old rambling nonsense should have been published yesterday but my internet provider decided to give me a day of no service just to remind me who the boss is. Thanks as ever Virgin Media, I would denounce you as vermin but recent events have drawn me closer to that class of creature. Intrigued? Didn't think so but read on anyway, it's good for chilblains.

Read more... )
keresaspa: (Nina looking a tad pertubed)
Normally by now tournament fever would have me in a grip stronger than the thighs of Elizabeth Seitz but so far I've struggled to really immerse myself in Euro 2016. Perhaps it's the relative lack of excitement in many of the matches, a general ennui with the whole build-up, the nagging fears of the fascist nightmare that will be visited upon us when the turkeys of England vote for Christmas for all of us on the 23rd, the undeniable fact that a 24 team tournament is far too big and at least a third of the qualifiers just scream "making up the numbers", who knows? Still, Euro 2016 is here with its high-kicking and low-scoring on the pitch and its war by proxy being waged by boneheads off it.

Being a man who long since disavowed patriotism I have no particular team to root for and that hasn't helped. Before the whole thing started I declared, in a fit of contrariness so typical of me, for Iceland but my heart was never in it and, whilst it would be a delight to see the smallest country ruffle a few feathers, life will go on if they lose all three matches. I did derive a surprising amount of pleasure from Italy's victory over Belgium last night but I suspect it was an isolated incident rather than my rebirth as a great Italian.

As to what we've seen so far, little has really grabbed my interest. I even turned over halfway through the England-Russia match the other night and buggered off shopping rather than stick with the Republic of Ireland's dreary outing against Sweden. Still, I've never been an Ireland fan and the fact that they're now led by an axis of evil every bit as contemptible as Martin O'Neill and Roy Keane seals the deal. Meanwhile the occupied territory represented the real recrement of the tournament, serving up some of the dullest, stalest, olid Pulisball since that awful Romanian team that annoyed me so much that time. Boy was I glad to see them lose and I will be even more glad when they exit the tournament. And yet this happened. Well, it would have been rude to say "no".

I remain hopeful that the malaise will lift. Maybe my eye will be caught by some heavenly Hungarians, maybe the goals will flow as a rampant France put a dowdy Albania to the sword, maybe when the wheat is finally separated from the chaff in the second round things will hit top gear, maybe Michael Gove and Boris Johnson will spontaneously combust as Asmodeus rises from Gehenna to reclaim the debased souls long since promised to him. Either way - must do better, Euro 2016.
keresaspa: (Cynthia of Witching Hour fame)
A rare word of congratulation must go to the over-gorged rabble of collaborationism that is the Parliamentary Labour Party on their shock decision to nominate Jeremy Corbyn as a candidate for leader. It says it all for how far the party has fallen that the only genuinely left-wing candidate is also the only one with no chance of winning but kudos to old Beardy-Buck nonetheless. Let's face it, Yvette Cooper is a Blairite failure, Liz Kendall is a Tory in the wrong party and Andy Burnham is a faceless wishy-washy and all three of them are wedded to watered down versions of austerity and thus will offer no alternative to (presumably) Boris Johnson come 2020 (Jesus, do we really have that much longer of this pile of bastards?!).

Under Corbyn Labour might well end up getting hammered in an election but who knows, the British electorate might finally discover a spine and decide a left-wing alternative is precisely what they want and do a Greece. Unlikely, but you never know and besides, they're equally likely to get a hammering under any of the other three. That and Corbyn's individual personality might actually be a rare antidote to Johnson's schtick, something that the other three faceless middle managers will never do.

It's all a pipe dream of course as we all know what will happen, with Jezza finishing bottom of the polls and Liz Coopham leading a bland, bourgeois-orientated party to its inevitable defeat before being replaced with somebody equally uninspiring and the whole grotesque farce playing itself out again ad nauseam. But hey, for five seconds let's just dream that it might be possible and the bearded one might actually let us all experience a Trotskyite paradise for a while. Now, wasn't that nice?
keresaspa: (James Connolly)
D-Day )
keresaspa: (Shakuni (Gufi Paintal))
What a thoroughly depressing set of results from the local elections. Leaving aside the inevitable, and well deserved, losses for Clegg's collaborators we are left with a situation where the top party in the most brutal and heartless government in years suffers only moderate losses, the left gets nowhere as usual and, worst of all, a sizeable chunk of the electorate decides that the right people to serve as local councillors in charge of street lights and bins are members of a party whose only policies are at a national level and can be summed up as "wogs begin at Calais".

The continuing collapse of the BNP, something I predicted some years ago you'll remember, is heartening but it is ruined by the fact that so many votes have gone over to their posher, public school-educated cousins in the UK Independence Party. I am on record as being no fan of Boris Johnson and his ways but I can at least understand his appeal to a certain section of people as he represents their fictitious view of what being English is about - bumbling, upper class twits who are endearing and quintessentially English, the sort of people who think queuing is something to be proud of and are obsessed with that bloody "Keep calm and carry on" thing. But Nigel Farage, an oily yuppie of the sort one could easily imagine coming in to asset strip a dying Christmas hamper company, delivering the news that customers will be getting neither money nor wicker baskets full of food this yuletide before awarding himself a £2 million pay-off? What is the appeal of this snaggle-toothed gargoyle? OK, I can see why the chinless vermin who "work" in "The City" might see his appeal but what could anybody else possibly like about this diminutive, self-serving, self-publicising bastard? I'm not a great supporter of the European Union but frankly I really fear the dystopia that will follow Britain's exit as human rights legislation is torn up and right-wing governments do what they like to their citizens in the name of security. The Daily Mail might focus on the odd extreme case (and more often than not, make others up) but if the straight choice is a capitalist UK in the EU or a capitalist UK with internment, constant snooping, unlimited detention on remand and the death penalty then I'll take the EU, thanks. And to those morons who say "you need only worry if you have something to hide" - show me somebody who doesn't have something to hide and I'll show you the most boring man in the world. Do you really want a government that can look into your extra-marital affairs, those Justin Bieber MP3s you keep hidden, your dawdling on sleazy porn sites or the tax-dodging booze and fegs you order from eastern Europe? Thought not.

That the reaction of a significant number of voters to a cuts-happy government is to vote for a party that claims to be completely Thatcherite and is one of the few parties that would probably cut deeper than the Tories says a lot about the sort of lumpen morons who are voting these days. However the failure of the left to provide any real alternative is another huge problem, and one that has existed for several years now. Let's face it, there is no left-wing alternative in British politics. You have a supposed focus whose credibility has been shot to pieces for some time in George Galloway, a man who now seems to divide his time equally between trying to convince himself that something as right wing as Islamic fundamentalism is a basis for a socialist party, that rape isn't a crime if you agree with somebody's politics and that a great way to build unity is to alienate as many people as possible. Then you have a bunch of posh boys waving around their Euston Manifesto who are frankly about as radical as the Women's Institute. Finally you have the groupuscular left up and down the country, convinced that they are about to lead a revolution tomorrow on the basis that their recently joined tenth member has access to a van but who refuse to work with that mob on the other side of town because they have a picture of a beardless Trotsky in their HQ/only active member's bedsit.

I despair of it all really. Xenophobia and monetarism rule the day and the prospect of there being any meaningful change is ever more remote as we lurch towards a nightmarish future where a brutal, uncaring government has its few checks and balances removed and is given free rein to crush at will. Hell in a bloody handbasket.

Still, never mind, eh?!
keresaspa: (George Formby)
Please tell me that it's finally over, that there isn't yet more of the bloody Olympics to come. They made out yesterday that it was over only for a Nuremberg rally-styled march to be thrust upon us today, with bombastic, jingoistic speeches by David Cameron and Boris "I no longer have a surname" Johnson congratulating themselves on what a good job they did getting the Olympics for London, whilst somewhere Tessa Jowell wept gently wondering where it had all went wrong.

I know everybody loves all the Olympic sports now because Olympic athletes are so much better than footballers (I look forward to comparing the viewing figures for the 2013 IAAF World Championships and 2013 FA Cup final to see how long that load of old flannel lasts) but by God will I ever be glad to see the back of it. The reaction of the public was inevitable really because sucking up hyperbole is fast becoming a British national trait (Billy and Cathy's wedding, Lizzie Windsor's 60 years of mooching) but all that really happened was that a bunch of people did what they do all year round but it just happened to be in the country you live in. Good God, get over it. I'm rather glad that England's World Cup bid was such a dismal failure as the sea of self-congratulatory ecstasy emanating from crowds of people who had sod all to do with it would probably see low-lying areas of the country drowned in miasma.

Olympics schmympics, it's just another excuse for nationalism and to fly the butcher's apron in our faces, panem et circenses for the rabble to make them forget about how their leaders are rewarding the rich and punishing the rest of us in the name of their sadistic monetarist ideology. And as nice a chap as Mo Farah seems (which admittedly he does) how many of the people suddenly professing to adore him would equally be happy to run every other Somali in Britain onto the first boat back to the Horn of Africa? Hypocrisy, rabid nationalism, money down the drain and political posturing by right wing bastards - good riddance.
keresaspa: (Mikado)
Whilst going through the fortnightly post-venesection comedown (yes the haemochromatosis continues apace but I decided to stop boring you all about it ages ago as I know how quickly sympathy turns to ennui) I happened to catch something about those nice people at UKIP having a leadership election. How peachy - the thoroughly nice chaps whom I recently saw praising Geert Wilders on the compellingly awful RT need a new (or possibly old) leader. I had thought that the motley crew of faceless hallions (and Diane Abbott) looking to take the Labour leadership were a queer shower but by heck they have nothing on this lot.

David Campbell Bannerman, an ex-Tory, was a big fan of the rail privatisations that have worked so well. He has also rejected the idea that prisoners should be allowed to vote, apparently on the basis that the only people in jail are paedophiles and serial killers, which must come as news to all those desperate shoplifters and TV licence dodgers rotting in prison because they are poor.

Tim Congdon, an ex-Tory, is a hateful monetarist and a regular columnist for Standpoint, a right-wing, fiercely pro-American rag that has the borderline racist mission "to celebrate western civilisation" (and I'm with Gandhi on that one). His prowess is clearly demonstrated by the time he spent dishing out advice to the in no way hapless Kenneth Clarke. He also suffers from being an even bigger nonentity than Campbell Bannerman and that is saying something.

Nigel Farage, an ex-Tory, we all know of old and it hardly seems worthwhile relisting all his crimes. Still, let's remember him for his lap dance loving, video pirating wide boy that he is. He's as close as Britain has come to a Silvio Berlusconi clone and it is to the disgrace of the working class that so many of the lumpen vote for this champagne-swilling, toffee-nosed, expenses devouring bastard. If only the IPLO was still around to rid us of this real life version of the Martin Clunes character in the Tim Nice But Dim sketches.

Finally we have Winston McKenzie, an ex-Tory (and Liberal Democrat and Labour and Veritas and even his own Unity Party), possibly the weirdest of the lot. A former boxer he is Jamaican by birth but has advocated an end to all immigration (how did you end up in Britain then, Winny), had his bar closed down because of all the drug dealing going on there and even tried out as a contestant on the sodding X Factor. I once talked about the singularly bizarre individual that was the late, unlamented Tony Halme - well it appears his British equivalent has finally been unearthed in possibly the strangest "we're not racist, honest" candidate ever.

The credibility-sapping ridiculousness of all four of these morons should by rights be enough to kill off UKIP once and for all but, like Philip Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glücksburg and Boris Johnson, they seem to be the racists that everybody has a blind spot for and come the next European elections I'm sure they'll romp him with the lovely Mr. Farage (whom I expect to win) grabbing his crotch and parading some 17 year old strumpet in a desperate Vladimir Zhirinovsky-inspired attempt at silencing any of those sort of rumours. Where would we be without them?!
keresaspa: (Enoch was wrong)
Hello there. I'm sure all you sensible people are tucked up in bed by now but for me it is much too cold to even contemplate that prospect. I'm a light enough sleeper as it is but the sub zero temperatures and occasional falls of snow that have added to the now effectively iced over blanket that appeared yesterday will keep me out of bed for some time yet. As such the joys of and filling this here with my usual brand of irrelevant rubbish is the order of the day until this place has heated up a bit.

But enough about me. Do you ever get the feeling that somebody is trying to tell you something? It's a feeling that I have got recently from our old friend Vladimir Putin. There is the penchant for military uniforms including little hats and stripes and the fishing trip photoshoot that caused the little man's popularity to rise in certain sections. Now what do we find - the small one likes nothing better than busting a move to ABBA tribute acts. What's next - the Judy Garland car horn? I suppose it explains why he looks so angry all the time. Break your silence Vladimir, you'll feel a lot fluffier!

Elsewhere this Carol Thatcher business is getting a bore already. The complainers need a good shaking - yes, she made the comment off air but why the hell does that matter?! An unrepentant racist does not deserve work on the national broadcaster and TV certainly does not owe a living to a woman who would be as unknown as most other journalists were she not Hilda's daughter. Ron Atkinson was rightly sacked in the same circumstances and there is no reason why that witch should be offered clemency when he was not. Or is this the same old thing that permits racism as long as it is in a plummy accent, the sort of logic that allows Boris Johnson and the Phil the Greek to get away with murder? I've criticised the BBC a lot recently but on this one they are completely justified and should not cave in to the rabble of idiots. Keep that awful woman off my screen and whilst we are it at axe that bloody One Show fiasco altogether.

Well, that'll do for me. A cig is calling so god night out there, whatever you are.
keresaspa: (Piggy Banks)
So anyway, this BBC Gaza appeal business. I'm not going to give my own opinion on the matter as you can probably guess where I stand on the whole issue now. However in response to the excuse that it would compromise BBC impartiality I would just like to bring to mind the following incidents:

*In the middle of a war that a number of people opposed and which could be construed as an illegal invasion the BBC remained totally impartial by allowing their then-darling John Simpson to rabbit on about an uninvited invading foreign army "liberating Kabul".

*Impartiality is upheld again when the BBC employs an elected official with a history of racist outbursts to present a show on Christianity and Islam rather than perform the duties of the office of mayor that he busted his (considerable) gut to win.

*It consistently allowed the same Boris Johnson to raise his political profile and construct the image of the loveable oaf on its main satire show.

*On The Hairy Bikers, a show ostensibly about cooking, UK Independence Party leader Nigel Farage was given time to prattle on about his own crazy ideas without any criticism from the two idiot hosts.

*As much as I dislike them, a truly impartial broadcaster could not justify denying access to the BNP.

*Make Poverty History and Live8 were treated as great events worthy of the highest praise despite the inherent contradictions in billionaire musicians jetting all over the world to tell ordinary saps that poverty is their fault.

*The fawning tone adopted over the Royal family by that little Dimbleby twerp is about as far from impartial as it is possible to get.

*BBC Northern Ireland News consistently uses the politically loaded term "Londonderry", even though the council officially made the name Derry years ago, rather than alternating equally between the two terms like their counterparts on UTV.

*An extremely draconian anti-smoking law in Bhutan was presented by the Beeb as a positive thing with no voice given to possible dissent or the fact that it was a ploy to get more money by taxing Indian imports.

*A hostile reception for Tony Blair was covered up on smugfest Newsnight and, let's face it, after Hutton Blair's agenda was constantly pushed by a castrated Beeb.

Let's be honest, BBC impartiality is as much a myth as the Vegetable Lamb of Tartary. If they choose to present an agenda that is pro-Israeli then at least be upfront about it and stop trying to hide wimping out of supporting aid for a humanitarian nightmare by a load of nonsense abut impartiality. This channel has insulted our intelligence enough without resorting to downright lies.
keresaspa: (Sergio Aragones)
There are times in one's life when one is just is just plain wrong and there are those other times when one is glad that that is the case. This is just one of those times. In a fit of pessimism, and recalling the turgid rubbish that was the Greek triumph at Euro 2004, I got it in my head that Romania were going to bore their way to a triumph this year. Well that, and my prediction that Italy would go out in the first round, have both proven fallacious. And boy does it feel good to be wrong! I can't remember the last time I took against a team in a finals tournament so comprehensively (well, one that wasn't England) but for some reason everything about that Romania side rubbed me up the wrong way. Good riddance to bad rubbish, well done to Italy for nicking the second spot and well done to the Dutch for securing a victory for pretty football by putting the Romanians to the sword. Nice!

I suspect my enmity will now be passed to Croatia, another outfit I have found very difficult to like. I know there is a rule that you are supposed to like him for some reason but there is something about Slaven Bilic that I just cannot warm to. Be it his ultra-prickly manner, his blatant cheating in the 1998 World Cup semi-final, his West Ham connections or his attempts to relativise Croatia's neo-Nazi supporters there is just something about him that I don't like. So come on Turkey, give us some of that spirit you showed against the Czechs and give Bilic what he deserves. That and the fact that TV's most consistent parasite1 Adrian Chiles likes them for if he likes something then it must be wrong2.

And speaking of racism (as I sort of was in a roundabout way) I see Boris Johnson is being true to himself and dropping anti-racism from a music festival. I could rant and rave about this but what is the point - Boris Johnson's racist opinions are already well documented but, like the Duke of Edinburgh, people who would otherwise claim to never be racist are happy to ignore them because he is posh. He can claim he is committed to fighting racism all he wants but it's difficult to accept that when first his words and now his actions indicate otherwise. There's only so far playing the buffoon can be strung out before people start to see you for what you really are. Mind you, people are hardly going to notice these days, what with more important concerns like what Sienna is wearing this week. Sheesh.

Well, that was a hate-filled little slice of heaven, wasn't it?! I must away now as I feel the need for a cig so cheerio.

1OK Victor Lewis-Smith used the name for Loyd Grossman but we never see him now and the ubiquitous Arse-Face is surely much more deserving of that title

2Well, given that we share support for a particular team once known as Throstles that theory crumbles almost immediately but you get my meaning. Well, at least pretend to.
keresaspa: (Idi Amin)
I once used this collection of balderdash to suggest that the politician in Britain who was cut the most slack was Ann Widdecombe. I pontificated that her bizarre appearance and manner masked a thoroughly wicked, self-publicising, crap pasta shilling old bastard who should be taken to task a lot more frequently than she is. But the one most likely to topple over at a moment's notice is not the subject of today's feather spitting. No, rather it is her closest challenger in the 'most slack' stakes Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson who has got on my wick. The prospective Tory mayor of That London has been taken to people's hearts, largely because he plays the upper class twit part that Americans believe is the standard way for all British to act. That and the fact that he was humorously poor as a presenter on Have I Got News For You. Never let it be said that Boris misses the opportunity to right his own wrongs as he has recently apologized for a racist outburst. Six years after he made it! Nice one Bozzer, you're a good laugh, you, with your floppy hair and your casual hatred. You will be the perfect man to represent the interests of Southwark, Newham and Notting Hill. And before we write off his use of terms like "pickaninnies" and "watermelon smiles" as just eccentric old BJ pulling out long forgotten terms let's not ignore from whom he virtually ripped them off. That's right, South Down's favourite racist Enoch Powell and his magnum opus the Rivers of Blood speech. Proof positive that even Eddie McGrady has a use! Never let it be said that the Conservative Party is committed to anti-racism when it happily promotes people who express repugnant views like that. And for those of you reading this in London, remember all this next time you think Boris is cute and worth voting for.

Soapbox away for another day.
keresaspa: (Cookie Kwan)
We all know Boris Johnson is prone to dropping the odd clanger. Indeed, to some it is part of his charm. Of course he has already pissed off the whole of Liverpool (not that it takes much to do that) but now we can add Portsmouth to the list. To me it seems a pretty innocuous comment really (I know a guy who lived in Portsmouth and the drugs bit is spot on) except for one point – a city of obesity. Look in the mirror recently, BJ? Being something of a chub myself, I can assure you Bozzer that at no time should you be expecting a call from the Mister Universe contests or indeed from the Milan catwalks. Put it another way - you're a fat lad with a bad haircut, Boris, leave the obesity talk to runts like Tony. What next, Charles Kennedy launching his comeback by whaling on alcoholism in Scotland and then nipping out for a swig of Buckfast? John Prescott announcing a morality crusade? Charles Clarke campaigning against ugliness and creepiness in public life? They really haven't a clue, these people!
keresaspa: (George Formby)
Dead to the world, my dear friends. Something about last night meant I just couldn't get to sleep no matter what. Grabbed the odd ten minutes here and there but it aint enough. As usual for me in cases like this I am now a bundle of energy and have to move. Swung round to the honcho and got him on the first try (two moons in the sky). Everything's going OK on that score and I've managed to chouse another fortnight before any real work starts so there's no sweat. Think I'll run into town and waste some money to shed a bit of this adrenaline. It's a funny old life, folks.

I'm still to decide where I stand on this Ken Livingstone row. Journalists are tossers but Nazi jokes to Jews are out of order. Seems Boris Johnson is backing him now. Strange bedfellows and all that. What a revolting image!

Anyway enough hoo-ha for one day. Exhaustion fuelled impulse buying awaits. Fare thee well.
keresaspa: (Mrs Mack)
A day of waiting lies in store for me. The honcho is finally giving me the definite date for Part Deux but as usual he's taking his sweet time about it. I've been told 8th February but in typical fashion that's subject to change. Gah!

Nowt much else happening. Watched a repeat of a recent Have I Got News For You last night and found that it is still pretty rubbish since Angus Deayton left. None of the replacements have matched him in the slightest. Boris Johnson was funny enough but I know I would get sick of him in a hurry if it was made permanent. You can tell desperation is setting in when they rope in the likes of Kirstie Allsopp to sex things up a bit. Worked for me, mind you ;-)

So it's Burns nicht the nicht. Like everything Scottish it's been hijacked by the Ulster-Scots "lets make up a language to stick it to the Irish speakers and nick off with a wad of EU funding" brigade. Still, as a youth I was a reasonable fan of Burns and it's time he was reclaimed for everyone. His finest hour? Frae the Friends and Land I Love )
keresaspa: (Jethro Tull)
The good news- tomorrow is the final class in what has been the most mind-numbingly boring class I've ever had to take ie Introduction to Research Methods. The bad news- they expect an essay from me for next Tuesday so I'm likely to crammed onto good old Microsoft Word for the foreseeable. Still at least it's a standard 2000 word job rather than one of the honcho's 10,000 word specials. It's just so chuffing booooring.

A suitable amount of alcohol and a point for the Thistle off Rangers made this weekend a bonny one, despite the fact that my stated aim of drunkenness on Friday proved impossible despite guzzling double figures of the pints, some vodka and Southern Comfort and a fair bit of Buckfast. It's not big and it's not clever, folks. Still I felt the need for a session given that I face a week of donkey work.

Edit:- Ah, sod it. My head just isn't in the game today. I got 200 words out but that's about the guts of what I can manage today. No point trying as I'll just be wasting my time. So in the spirit of things here are two pieces of frontier gibberish, one about the Plain English Awards and Dirty Boris and t'other a truly archaic Indian take on Dirty David. Silly little boys.


keresaspa: (Default)

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