Gordon Brown: Go. Just, go.

It is arguably in the interests of every major political party to keep Gordon Brown in power. For the Tories, they are pretty much guaranteed a victory in the next election and can use the outstanding two years to put in place some policies to flesh out their anorexic manifesto. Plus, the longer Brown stays in power, the worse the eventual election result would be for the Labour party. An article in The Guardian suggests that, at the current polling levels, the Tory majority will be higher than the one Blair won in 1997. This could be even larger come 2010 if Brown stays as PM.

For the Liberal Democrats, they get the chance to consolidate their position under the Playmobil politician after two or three disastrous years for their party. The catastrophic performance of the Labour party has not given them the rise in popularity that they might expect. They need to work out how they can capitalise on the failings of the Labour party, and how they can exploit the weaknesses of Gordon Brown so they do not miss the chance to become the second party as they did in 1983 and 1997. A new Labour leader might not give them the chance to do this.

The Labour party may want to keep the dithering drip in power for two reasons. Firstly, there is no guarantee that a new leader would be able to improve things for the party. A Miliband or Straw premiership may be just as awful as the Brown administration, albeit it in very different ways. Also, how embarrassing would it be for the Labour party to so publicly admit that their coronation of Brown was not so much a mistake as a total calamity for their party? They’d be ditching him after less than a year – less time than was given to IDS or Ming The Merciful by their respective parties. Labour have the most to lose by Brown staying in power – nonetheless, there are advantages for them as well of keeping the dreadful incumbent PM in power.

Of course, there are others who don’t benefit from keeping Brown in power. Who might that be? Well, the great British public. The poor bastards the above parties purport to represent.

Seriously, keeping Brown in power is a disaster for us. He is clearly not up to the job, and seems to have been having a slow nervous breakdown over the past year. The pressure is paralysing him, the stress is clear to see on his ashen face. And this man is the ambassador for our country. How do think other world leaders perceive him, and therefore us? If they do base their perceptions of us on him, then they will see us as redundant and broken. Brown is incapable of being Prime Minister; he is destroying himself, and damaging us in the process.

And think about the impact his effective incapacity in his role is having on the government. At a time when the economy is in freefall, when our troops are fighting in foreign lands, when civil liberties are under threat on an almost daily basis, the government has descended into plotting, back biting and paranoia. And at a senior level, imagine what a cabinet meeting is like at the moment. Brown brooding at the head of the table, various ministers pushing themselves to succeed him whilst others worry and wonder whether they will still have jobs after the axe has fallen and Gordon is gone. The interests and concerns of the nation are going to secondary to the naked self-interest and the job concerns of those in the Labour government.

Westminster seems to be awash with innuendo, whisper, plots, and the all-pervading sound of knives being sharpened. The House of Commons seems to have descended into navel gazing, of people asking “what if” rather than “what should we be doing now to best serve the interests of their constituents”. Getting MPs to focus on the needs of those who elected them is bad at the best of times – right now, all MPs seem to be worrying about how what is going on at the top is going to affect them. The buck for this catastrophic paralysis stops at the top of the pile. It rests with Gordon Brown. And if he can’t see that it is in the best interests of the country for him to go, then others – in his government or on the opposition benches – should directly tell him that he should resign.

Except no-one – not even the opposition, is directly saying this. And why would they? As I noted above, it may not be in their direct interests to do so.

Perhaps this could be a policy for the Libertarian Party to follow. Point out that they are not in a position to contemplate fighting a General Election, but they are demanding the resignation of Brown and an election anyway because it is in the best interests of the British people to end the stagnation that has overcome the House of Commons. Show that the party is willing to support ideas because they are right for the country, even if they are not in the best interests of LPUK itself. But however it happens, and whoever gets round to saying it first, someone in the political arena has to say it. Brown must go.

In a speech to the commons in World War Two, Neville Chamberlain’s former friend Leo Amery turned on the then Prime Minister and delivered a withering critique of Chamberlain that included this historic rebuke first delivered to the Rump Parliament by Oliver Cromwell:

“You have sat too long here for any good you have been doing. Depart, I say, and let us have done with you. In the name of God, go.”

The time has come for someone to say the same words to Gordon Brown, and in doing so end this travesty of an administration.

Brown-Bashing: He's On The Phone

You can tell how desperate a politician is getting by the schemes they dream up. Blair was never that desperate, so his policies may have been gently shafting the Great British public, but at least he seldom had to resort to crass gimmicks. The same cannot be said of his successor in Downing Street. Gordon Brown is now so crap – after less than a year in the role – that he now has to embrace lunatic schemes endorsed by PR wankers that put Major’s Cone Hotline in the category of “a very sensible idea that in no way deserves ridicule.”

Look at it this way: most people know that Brown is not the most pleasant person to be around. The talk of tantrums, of sulking, of rages, is all around, but it has seldom been seen into the public arena. And with good reason – knowing for certain that our Prime Minister is a petulant child would further undermine a man who is already grossly compromised. It would seem to be obvious that any PR exercise should involve giving Brown less access to the public, not more.

But no. Via Guido, I see the plan to make Brown appear as a friendly man of the people is to get him to call members of the public who have sent him a letter. In one case, at 6am.

There is only one reason why Gordon should ring any member of the British public, and that is to apologise. In fact, he should ring every member of the British public who did not vote for him* to say sorry for stealing the keys to Number 10. He should sit and listen whilst those members of the public throw whatever abuse they wish to throw at him. Aside from that, Brown shouldn’t be allowed near a phone.

This exercise is a fatuous bag of shite that indicates nothing more than how detached from reality Brown, and those crass, butt-kissing gremlins he surrounds himself with, have become. Leave the PR alone, Gordon, you are shit at it. Focus instead on trying to find a way to solve some of the problems of this country. Failing that, just fuck off.

*Which is, pretty much, the whole of the British population bar the majority of toadying Labour MPs who rubberstamped his effective coup.

Labour Finances: I'm Tory Plan B

The indicators are all there – times are getting tough. Businesses will be failing, people will be made bankrupt. For all those who borrowed too much and spread themselves too thin when the times were good, well, they’re going to suffer now. When the loans are called back in.

And in difficult times we sometimes think that our politicians don’t understand how we feel, or what is happening to us. But whatever you might think of them, you can’t accuse the Labour party of not understanding what it is to be broke and needing to pay off loans pretty damn sharpish:

“The party has five weeks to find £7.45m to pay off loans to banks and wealthy donors recruited by Lord Levy, Tony Blair's former chief fundraiser, or become insolvent. A further £6.2m will have to be repaid by Christmas - making £13.65m in all. The sum amounts to two-thirds of the party's annual income from donations.”

Smashing stuff, I think you’ll agree. The Labour party are partly responsible for the economic downturn – I’m glad they’re suffering as well.

And it just gets better:

“Senior officials in the Labour party, including Gordon Brown, could become personally liable for millions of pounds in debt unless new donors can be found within weeks, the Guardian has learned.”

Magic, pure and simple. It makes me smiles to think of the Labour party as bankrupt. It makes me laugh out loud to think of Gordon Brown et al having to put their hands into their pockets to fork out millions to pay off donations that have already proven to be a massive embarrassment and headache for the party.

But here’s the odd thing. Whilst Gordon Brown is a special kind of shite, this isn’t actually his fault. In fact, if anything, he’s helped the party save money by not holding costly things like General Elections. The blame for this lies squarely with his predecessor. These were donations scored by Levy for Blair. And Blair managed to fuck off at just the right time – before his party and his country went down the economic shitter.

Back in the day when Blair was actually popular, Tony Blair MP was *wittily* transformed into I’m Tory Plan B. Of course, that’s nonsense – was then, and is now. But today, reading about just how financially shafted the Labour party is right now, it is difficult not to smile and wonder whether there is just a tiny amount of truth in that Tory Plan B malarkey. After all, a decade of Blair in power created a millstone around the Labour party’s neck called the Iraq War, crippling financial debts and an environment within the party where electing Brown as leader unopposed was actually a good idea.

Far from being a great asset for the Labour party, that shallow confidence trickster Blair may yet prove himself to be a vital part in the crippling of the Labour party.

Here’s hopin’.

Ted Kennedy And US Nepotism

So, Ted Kennedy has a brain tumour. Bad news for him, bad news for his family. For what it is worth, I hope he gets better.

But I really can’t understand all the attention that this news has got. Seriously, when I was (half) watching Channel Four news last week there were crowds outside the hospital, cheering as he walked out. I know he is fat, old and ill, but walking can’t be much of a problem for him, surely?

Which got me wondering exactly why so many people care about Ted Kennedy. Because on paper, he isn’t the most likeable or capable of politicians. In fact, he’s pretty crap. I mean, his career has hardly been scintillating. His main claim to fame is that he has been in power for a long time. Well, whoopee-do – but by that logic we should also be celebrating Fidel Castro, because he spent ages in power. Aside from that, his career is mainly misjudgement and scandal. Take his run for President in 1980 – a glaring example of disloyalty to (the admittedly dreadful) man who was then President of his party, he managed to assist Reagan into the White House and helped to bring in 12 years of Republican rule. And no criticism of Kennedy would be complete without the obligatory mention of Chappaquiddick. Any other Senator with this record would be rapidly consigned to life outside of the public domain. Ted Kennedy is treated as a hero, despite his many flaws.

And it shouldn’t be a revelation to anyone that the reason why those glaring flaws are overlooked is because of his family name. Lacking the charisma of one brother and the political acumen of another, he is pretty much the shallow end of the Kennedy clan gene pool. He only found the limelight because of the tragedies that befell his older siblings. People care about Ted Kennedy because of his surname and because of his brothers. It is not a personal thing, it is simply the natural extension of the unpleasant nepotism that tars so much of modern American Politics.

Look at the current election. Obama’s fight against Clinton has at least stopped (unless something goes badly wrong) the US from having Bush-Clinton-Bush-Clinton in the White House. So what do people do? Start talking about the ridiculously named Chelsea Clinton making a run for the White House in eight years. The Bush dynasty seems to have been (temporarily) stopped from achieving further power – but as soon as Dubya is out of the White House, memories of his misrule will fade and the talk of Jeb – or some other moron with Bush for a surname – in the White House will start. This website, presumably intended as satire, has more than a ring of truth to it.

Nepotism is a signpost of the death of democracy – that the talent pool of politicians has become so woefully shallow that people with a surname that harks back to better times is the way to go. It may be difficult for people in the UK to understand just how bad this is for democracy. But look at it this way: imagine if people were seriously talking about Euan Blair as a future Prime Minister. How pissed off would everyone be, given it took us ten years to be rid of his twat of a father? Even worse, imagine if the off spring of Gordon Brown were credible future leaders in this country. The thought sends shivers down my spine.

So America should stop thinking in terms of Kennedys, or Bushes, or Clintons. They should look for people whose main claim to power is more than simply being the spawn of or spouse to someone who was once in power. Kennedy’s illness should be the starting point of this – he should be allowed to heal in private, away from the glaring gaze of the media that focuses on him purely because of his name.

Saving Labour Through PR

Neil Harding, a man known for his lack of original thought and shameless embracing of all the Nu Labour spin that is thrown at him, has turned against Gordon Brown - even to the point of calling him a moron. Fair play, I agree with Neil absolutely. And it really is a sign of the times when someone like Harding turns against the Labour PM so angrily.

However, his solution to the woes of the Labour government leave a lot to be desired.

"If Brown or Labour really want a legacy or a totemic issue to change public opinion then proportional representation is the answer."

Solving the current economic woes of this nation might be a better legacy and way to change public opinion, but there we go. This sentence also cracks me up:

"Robin Cook stated that if Labour fail to change the electoral system while they have the chance that would be it's biggest failure."

Only in the world of Neil Harding is the phrase "Robin Cook stated" a valid reason for doing something, rather than, as it is for the rest of us, a reason to ignore that idea. But Neil does go on and offer other reasons for PR. It is all about being fair, see?

"While Labour may be heading for defeat and are clearly not the choice of the electorate to rule alone, neither really is there any real enthusiasm for the Tories. Do people really want a Tory government with a massive majority when only about 25% of the electorate will vote for them (around 40% of the vote)?"

And:

"If the Tories want more than 50% of the seats in parliament then they should have to win more than 50% of the vote."

Huh. Yeah. See, I don't have any real enthusiasm for a Tory government at the next election - other than them being better than the shower of shits currently running this country. But there is something really skewered about Harding's logic - yes, there is an argument for the Tories having to win 50% of the vote if they want 50% of the seats. But shouldn't the same be said for Labour in the previous three general elections?

In fairness to him, Harding is consistent in his advocating of PR. But I fully expect other Labour supporters to suddenly be converted to Proportional Representation - it is pretty much the only thing that can save them from an electoral kicking the next time we all go to the polls. That is the problem with PR (and one of the main reasons why the Lib Dems consistently advocate it) - it is the refuge of the losers, those who cannot win elections using the existing rules.

There are arguments both for and against the introduction of PR. The fact that Brown has fucked up the chances of Labour winning the next election should not be one of them.

This grinning homunculus

I may not agree with his politics, but by God Charlie Brooker can write:

'I came close once after glimpsing David Miliband on TV: I couldn't hear what he was saying, but something about his face - just his sodding face - revolted me on a deep and primal level. It was chilling, unsettling - like watching a haunted ventriloquist's dummy slowly turn its head through 360 degrees. "Who is this grinning homunculus," I thought, "and what does he want from me?"'

Just remember, Miliband is seen as a potential replacement for Brown. That's how shit the Labour party is now. That gurning, idiotic man child Miliband is seen as better than the incumbent. In the real world, Miliband wouldn't be seen as a potential leader. Hell, he wouldn't even be judged as capable of wiping his own arsehole without written instructions. In the Labour party, he is a potential leader, Prime Minister and saviour of the party.

I despair. I really do. The sooner Nu Labour hit the dustbin of history, the better.

Nick Drake - Pink Moon

MP Expenses: Virulent, Life Draining Parasites

Parasites can be harmless, you know. There are some that get what they want without really damaging the hosts. However, there are other parasites that keep on draining the host, until that host is broken, despairing, and unable to contemplate life without that parasite, no matter how massive the impact of the parasite is on the host.

Our MPs are parasites. Which of the two categories do you think they fit into?

If you haven’t gone for the latter option without giving it a second thought, then read this:

MPs could seek to avoid future expenses criticism by awarding themselves an automatic lump sum of £23,000 a year for second homes, a newspaper says.

I’d imagine that such a move would prevent them from receiving criticism for expenses. However, should such an idea become policy, it should led to the electorate as a whole screaming “thieving cunts” at MPs rather than criticising their expenses.

Still, the proponents of the plan have another reason for this plan:

The move would avoid the need for MPs to submit claims backed by receipts.

Uh-huh. Because we really don’t want them to need to submit receipts. They can be trusted, can’t they? I mean, in no way have they ripped the living piss out of the expense system even when they have the requirements to submit receipts, have they?

But they’ve set the precedent, now, with this plan, so I’m going to go to my boss and ask her for her feedback on me claiming £23k without offering any receipts. I fully expect her to tell me to fuck right off. Which is fine, because when the MPs come to me at the next election with these proposals/this policy, I will tell them to fuck off. Using my vote.

And I suggest everyone else does the same to these parasitic arseholes who are so determined to drain the taxpayer's money.

Iron Man

Went to see Iron Man the other weekend. Genuinely, I was not sure what to make of it. Movies based on Marvel heroes range from superb, to mediocre, to “I would rather pluck out my eyeballs and burn them to tattered shreds in battery acid than watch that film again” bad. Iron Man had the potential to fit into any of those categories.

And so much of the film was shit. Robert Downey Jr played Tony Stark very well; mainly because Stark is an arrogant, playboy dick and you can imagine playing that role is not that much of a stretch for Robert Downey Jr. The action sequences are not so much typical superhero fights as examples of weapon porn; not least the last, climatic fight, which is basically “I’ve got a bigger suit that you have” willy waving. Finally, the politics of the film at screwed up to say the least. It seems to suggest that Middle Eastern terrorists are bad. Really bad. They’ll shoot you in the chest and kill your cell mate/new found best bud. But they are nowhere near as bad as big, fat American businessmen. Because not only are they paying those Middle Eastern terrorists to try to kill you, they will also come along and effectively steal your heart from your chest, before fighting you to the stars and back. Thank Christ for those drunken, flippant and arrogant millionaire playboys. They are the real heroes.

Yet, despite the oodles of shite in this film, it works. Seriously, it all comes together and works really well. It is mindless pap that makes you feel you have lost a couple of IQ points over the course of viewing the film, but at least it is enjoyable. You come out feeling entertained, and that you have seen a proper, old fashioned blockbuster. The film feels like a comic book on the big screen, and works because of that.

And that, surely, should be the point of a comic book adaptation; to be fun and be entertaining. Yeah, with a Batman film you can go a bit darker – it is basically about a guy with post-traumatic stress disorder. However, if you try to ground Superman in the real world, the result is just deeply boring. Likewise, the Hulk should be going “Hulk smash!”, not “Hulk psychoanalyse self whilst fighting unconvincing CGI Hulk dogs.” Also, if you want to make a comic book film about revenge and the darkness within even the minds of heroes, you need to spend a bit more time getting the people to care about those heroes. Otherwise you end up with the emotionally flaccid Daredevil.

Iron Man shows the way to go with almost all superhero movies: make them big, populist blockbusters. Because telling big, populist stories is how the source materials became popular enough to make them into blockbusters in the first place.

Stats of the Week

Looking at Gordon Brown's popularity, via The Guardian:

Much of the blame for Labour's weakness seems to lie on the prime minister's shoulders. Asked to rank Brown as a party leader, he lags far behind his predecessor: 67% of voters think Blair did a better job. He also lags behind Conservative rivals: 51% of all voters, and even 35% of people who backed Labour in 2005, think Major was better. Brown beats only William Hague, by a narrow eight points, Iain Duncan Smith, by 30 points and Charles Kennedy, by 19 points.

So Brown is now less popular than Major. That must be a little disheartening, particularly given Major's fate in the 1997 election. Still, at least he can take some comfort from the fact that he is beating Iain Duncan Smith. Then again, Iain Duncan Smith's party never let him fight a general election, and if the rumblings are to be believed, then Brown may not be allowed to fight a general election himself.

Shooting Down Blair

Imagine if they had done it. Imagine if the Israelis had shot down the private jet carrying Tony Blair. Imagine the international outcry.

Actually, I'm not too sure there would have been an international outcry.

Imagine an aide rushing to tell Brown the news. Imagine that aid bursting into the room, interrupting the latest bollocking Brown is giving someone, probably for the Crewe and Nantwich by election result. And imagine that aide blurting out the news that Blair is dead, killed accidentally by the Israelis. And imagine Brown fixing that aide with the tired, bitter look that is now so uniquely his:

I'd imagine his response to death of his former nemesis would be simple and concise. I'd imagine he would have just given a one word response.

"So?"

How much alcohol can you drink a week?

I've been thinking. And I think these limits on the number of units of alcohol you can drink a week are just plain silly. Far too low. So I have engaged a couple of my brain cells, and come up with a new limit of how much alcohol you can drink a week. This is it:

You should drink no more than 150 units of alcohol a week. Unless it is your birthday or something. In which case you can drink more.

And how do I know this is ok? I made it up myself. If it is OK for some to make this sort of shit up, I don't see why it shouldn't be ok for me.

h/t Mr E.

Election 2008: I win the popular vote, not Clinton!

Clinton’s still not winning, but that won’t stop her from continuing to fight. And why would it? After all she is winning the popular vote.

Sort of.

If you count the votes cast on the contests that don’t count. And those that Obama did not try to win. So basically, she’s winning if you ignore the rules.

Which I think is a fantastic way to win. And I’m going to use it myself. Yep, I am going to extend Clinton’s logic to prove that I have won the Democratic nomination for President myself. See, I going to count a vote that hasn’t been counted (mine) and I’m going to further bend the rules by ignoring all the other votes that have been cast. Therefore, I’m the winner. And I won by a freaking landslide! Seriously, 100% of the vote. I rock! And come November, I’ll kick McCain’s ancient butt like it has never been kicked before!

But seriously, the Clinton campaign is now so shafted that she has become the child screaming at the other kids who are still playing a game that she has been excluded from. How long until she actually says "it isn’t fair! I still want to play! Let me play! LET ME!"

Message to Clinton and her supporters. Give it up. It has got pathetic.

Election 2008: The Rage

Apparently John McCain suffers from “uncontrollable fits of rage”. Call me old fashioned, call me a party pooper, but “uncontrollable fits of rage” and “running for President” are not good bedfellows. In fact, hearing the phrase “uncontrollable fits of rage of the President of the USA” is one of those phrases you never want to hear. Like “the prognosis is not good”, “I think you’re a lovely person but…” and “don’t worry, it will grow back.”

Part of me thinks that this story should be publicised as much as possible in the USA, so the voters know they might be electing an angry man who is not in control of himself. But the other part of me knows that it wouldn’t make a blind bit of difference to the electorate. Such is the tribal nature of party politics in (not just) the USA that Republicans will still vote for McCain using the logic “well, he may be a raging maniac, but at least he is our raging maniac.”

Leaving us all to dread the day when, if McCain does manage to beat Obama, that he comes into the Oval Office in a stinker of a mood, and looks for which nation state he should take his rage out on today.

Some people seem to be criticising Gordon Brown for not going to campaign in the Crewe and Nantwich by-election. Well, I think that is totally unfair. The most sensible thing that Brown can do is not go anywhere near that by-election. After all, history has shown he is terrified of elections, and when he does get involved in elections, he is absolutely shit at it. Seriously, he is totally fucking crap. The best thing he can do is not get involved in elections at all.

So, Gordon, hide from all elections. Seriously, it is for the best. In fact, hide from all public interactions. Don't go outside. If you do, then you run the risk of being hating you even more. In fact, don't do anything. If you do, people hate you. So don't. What I'd suggest is find a big rock and hide under it, until your term in office expires and you are turfed out by a political lightweight. Yes, you will still lose the election. But at least it will be a less embarrassing loss for you. Because if you go outside and if you do anything, people will just hate you more.

The best bet for the Brown premiership - do nothing and hide.

Death by Dangerous Driving

See, I tend to support the police. I don't know why; maybe it is because I've known some police officers who are good people trying to do a tough job in trying circumstances. Yes, sometimes they fuck up. Sometimes they fuck up really badly. But when they do I think it is about the pressure they are under, rather than any malice or incompetence.

Plus, I wasn't there. So I am judging this story based on the reporting in the media, which is not always the most reliable way to judge an event. You have to look at the bias of the reporters, and tally that with their desire to spin a good yarn.

But, honest to Christ, I can't help but feel that the police fucked up badly with this one.

Look at the facts: a police car travelling at 100 mph. Without any lights on. Said car hits a teenage girl, knocking her 50ft down the road. Tragically, yet inevitably, that girl dies. Her boyfriend is understandably upset. So the police taser him. As you do. Pretty much standard practice, I'd have thought, with grief stricken relatives and friends. Give the whining fuckers a massive electrical blast. That'll make them feel better.

Of course, other facts might emerge. Maybe the police weren't travelling as quickly as the witnesses thought. Maybe there was some sort of mitigating circumstances that meant they needed to be travelling so fast, although I cannot for the life of me work out what they might be. Perhaps there is a reason to help to explain this awful tragedy. Maybe. But as it stands, it seems to be the fault of the police, pure and simple. And unless some pretty fucking radical mitigating circumstances come to light, I hope the police concerned are prosecuted to the full extent of the law.

A change is as good as a rest

Of course, Doctor Who is getting both despite needing neither. There will be just three specials next year, and when the show returns, it will have a new show runner. And whilst any change to a winning formula is concerning, but if you had to chose a new chief writer and exec producer for the series, Steven Moffat would be at the top of the list.

After all, he wrote the magnificent The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances, which made the innocent phrase “Are you my mummy?” absolutely terrifying. He also came up with The Girl in the Fireplace, a love story for our favourite Time Lord that also managed to be unsettling. And the Weeping Angels as depicted in Blink will linger in the nightmares of this generation of sprogs. As I noted just a few days ago, Steven Moffat would certainly be in the running for greatest Doctor Who writer of all time.

Plus, he is quite funny, as this quote from him on winning his dream job shows:

"My entire career has been a Secret Plan to get this job. I applied before but I got knocked back cos the BBC wanted someone else. Also I was seven. Anyway, I'm glad the BBC has finally seen the light, and it's a huge honour to be following Russell into the best - and the toughest - job in television. I say "toughest" cos Russell's at my window right now, pointing and laughing."

Until they give me the job of Chief Writer (fuck knows why they would, but I am ever hopeful) Moffat is a damn good choice.

Of course, with change in the air, it may be that we are going to see further change for the series. So, at what price a new Doctor, and I wonder who will be playing him?

They are watching you...

...and will build the database to prove it!

The Moai and I have a recurring joke. Sometimes I will spot a politician who I despise (of which there is no shortage) on a street or in a car somewhere and I will drop him a text, proposing some sort of terrible, yet faintly ludicrous fate, for that politician. He will then send me a text message back, sarcastically thanking me for getting him on a terrorist watch list. I laugh, thinking that is just plain paranoid and would never happen in real life, now, would it?

The answer, sadly, is yes - it could happen. Because, via a wonderful yet alarming post from the ever readable Mr Eugenides, I see the database is already in place to record all those text message (and, whilst we are on the subject, phone records as well). And that database will be extended to incorporate all internet activity as well. And to top it all off, like pouring bum gravy over a pile of shite, the government will now hold all this information, rather than the service provider. Because, you know, the government has done so well at holding information, as David Davis points out:

“Given [ministers’] appalling record at maintaining the integrity of databases holding people’s sensitive data, this could well be more of a threat to our security, than a support.”

However, the most damning comment comes from Jonathan Bamford, who is the assistant Information Commissioner:

“This would give us serious concerns and may well be a step too far. We are not aware of any justification for the State to hold every UK citizen’s phone and internet records. We have real doubts that such a measure can be justified, or is proportionate or desirable. We have warned before that we are sleepwalking into a surveillance society. Holding large collections of data is always risky - the more data that is collected and stored, the bigger the problem when the data is lost, traded or stolen.”

I was going to add emphasis, but let’s be very honest here, every single comment is both relevant, valid, and (for anyone with half a brain cell and a liking for freedom) very, very concerning.

There are so many points to make about his proposal – it is wrong in almost every respect. But the point I want to make is about what this reveals about the mindset of our leaders. If I’m going to give them the benefit of the doubt, then I would say that they are being wowed by new technology. Someone has pitched to them a large database, and they have got over-excited. They’ve missed the point, though, that just because we have the technology to do something doesn’t mean they should. After all, we have the technology to blow this planet back into the stone age. But we don’t use it.

However, I don’t think it is the technology involved that is appealing to our government. Oh no, this proposal will give them even more ways to keep tabs on the population. Because they have no respect that the basis of our legal system is “innocent until proven guilty.” Their approach is much more “treat you as guilty just in case you prove yourself to be guilty at some point.” Fundamentally, they assume that you will use your phone, your text messages, the internet for criminal purposes. Even worse, you might use it to undermine them in some way. The people might be sleepwalking into a surveillance culture but the government certainly isn’t. They know exactly what they are doing. They are keeping tabs on you. Because they don’t trust you.

Well, fuck you, Mr Brown et al, I don’t trust you either. And I’ll be showing this at the next election, as my vote will go to the party that is most likely to dismantle, or at least heartily attack, the surveillance state that has grown so rapidly in the 11 years of Nu Labour misrule.

Brown and the Dalia Lama: Cowardice v. Pacifism

The Dalai Lama will be visiting London. I’d imagine he won’t get the same rapturous reception afforded to the likes of Nicholas Sarkozy. Or, indeed, the cast of Sex and the City. But then again, why would he? The spiritual leader of a country under the tyrannical rule of a pseudo-Stalinist state should be lower on the national priority list than a film about shoes.

Still, at least the Dalai Lama will have the (extremely dubious) pleasure of meeting Gordon Brown. Not in Downing Street, though:

Prime Minister Gordon Brown will not receive him at 10 Downing Street but is due to meet him with the Archbishop of Canterbury at Lambeth Palace on Friday.

At this point, the refusal of Gordon to have the Dalai Lama in Downing Street should come as a surprise to precisely no-one. Brown has all the spine of a jellyfish with a broken back. The fact that he writes books about courage should now be seen as a cross between deeply ironic self-awareness and wishful thinking. Courage, for Gordon Brown, is something that happens to other people.

Still, I would love to be a fly on the wall at that meeting. Seriously, it would be pretty fucking special. Just imagine, the Dalai Lama, smiling peacefully at Brown at the same time as feeling a quiet, controlled anger at the man who bends over for the Chinese government at every opportunity. Imagine him leaning forward, looking directly in Brown’s haggard, bloodshot eyes and saying “So, about that Olympic torch…”

Then imagine the terrible feelings of embarrassment and shame that well up within Gordon Brown; feelings that make him retreat further into his coarse, bitter and broken self. And imagine how Brown would start to squirm and fidget as he realises that he is about to be bitch slapped by the world’s most famous pacifist.

Magic.

Doctor Who: The Unicorn and the Wasp

And there it was. The Unicorn and the Wasp. The first classic episode of Series Four/Thirty of Doctor Who. It is difficult to imagine exactly what could represent better, and more suitable, Saturday evening entertainment than the Doctor meeting Agatha Christie whilst fighting a giant wasp who is disguised as a vicar.

This episode felt a massive amount of thinking had gone into it. Agatha Christie appearing in the series could so easily have been a disaster, but instead it was a triumph. Likewise, the comedic edge and the adherence to Christie cliches could have become extremely tedious, but instead were presented in a knowing yet entertaining way. The highlight for me came when the characters remembered their alibis and the camera showed what they were actually doing - topped off by the Doctor starting to remember an unseen adventure involving Charlemagne being kidnapped by an insane computer. There, just there in that allusion to an unknown adventure, was enough material for another complete episode. Such was the strength of last night's offering, that potential episode could be dismissed as an aside, and you just didn't care.

Even the in jokes were subtle yet rewarding. As someone who has read a lot of Agatha Christie, I enjoyed the constant dropping of the titles to her novels into the script but - crucially - it was unobtrusive, right up until the Doctor's appalling (yet great) pun about "The Murder In The Vicarage". If you knew about it all, it made sense. If you didn't, then it wouldn't matter.

Plus Donna has really come into her own, proving the existence of the adversary through the sting in the door at the same time as providing support and understanding to Christie when she most needed it. Donna has come a long way from the tedious Chiswick chav presented in her first adventure.

And in the midst of all this, there was a giant wasp. Magic!

Next week it is the Eurovision pissing Song Contest, so no Doctor Who, but in two weeks we have the return of Steven Moffat to the programme. And since Steven is arguably the best writer the series has ever had (he'd have to fight Robert Holmes for the title, but still) I reckon that - despite the strengths of last night's episode - the best is still to come.

Here Comes Your Man

By The Pixies. One of those great bands I always forget about.

*Extreme* Porn

This one slipped under the radar a little bit for me, but I’ve noted that the government have again had their banning boots one, and have banned *extreme* pornography. Regardless of whether you like, dislike, or were even completely unaware of extreme porn, this should irritate you. As it demonstrates just how much the government is prepared to intervene in your life. Gordon Brown feels he has a right to decide what you do and what you don’t wank over. Of course, some will not see it in this way…

“Quite right they banned it,” you might hear a tedious Sun reader booming, in their unintelligent yet demanding voices that come from those who are so ignorant that they have no idea just how ignorant they actually are, “I don’t want to watch what those bloody pervs get up to!”

The immediate response to anyone who thinks like this is, of course, you don’t have to. No-one is forcing people to watch extreme pornography. Or any sort of pornography, come to think of it. Seriously, no-one. It is like those fuckwitted racists who go “yeah, but I don’t want to celebrate Ramadan in this country.” Fine. Fine. You don’t have to.

Plus, sexuality is a broad thing. Different things work for different people. Just a glance at the top shelf in any newsagent demonstrates this. You might not get turned on by Fat and Fifty*. It might make you feel a bit sick. But the fact that it doesn’t turn you on doesn’t make it bad, or something that should be banned. After all, it was only a few decades ago that homosexuality was considered evil and immoral, and was completely illegal. The general sway of society should be towards making society more liberal, not less so. People should be allowed to get on with whatever they like in the bedroom, no matter how weird or funny or demented it might seem, as long as it is taking place between consenting adults. The same goes for porn. Even if someone is jerking themselves off to something that is not mainstream, it doesn’t matter. As long as that wank material was produced by consenting adults.

“Yeah, but that ain’t the point, is it?” the Sun reader might protest. “That sort of porn isn’t like Juicy Jugs. It makes people go out and do weird stuff. It makes people go out and kill.”

At which point you’re probably talking about the murder of Jane Longhurst by a disturbed individual who watch violent porn. The problem is that there is no link between porn, or violent films, or anything that is not exactly mainstream and those commit murders. In fact, if anything, porn and violent movies can act as an outlet for the disturbed. It is also not just violence that attracts those of a disturbed nature. After all, Jeffrey Dahmer was obsessed by Return of the Jedi.

Which leads us onto the key point for me. The perfect illustration of why this law - and so many other examples of what some refer to as bansturbation – is the question of when you stop banning stuff. Because you Sun reader might argue that it is ok to ban violent porn even if a minority does suffer.

But this doesn’t answer the question of where you stop. Because the law talks about acts that not only do threaten life and cause serious injury, but also those that appear to. Mainstream cinema could be easily affected by this. Take Pierrepoint, a film filled with executions. That could be titillating for some. Whatcha gonna do? Prosecute every Blockbuster franchise with a copy of that grim little film in it? What about The Passion of the Christ, Mel Gibson’s astoundingly popular torture fest? That contains a nearly nude man being tortured graphically before being executed horrifically. Are you going to ban that as well?

What about the films that depict graphic torture and violence? As artistically vacuous as they are, does anyone really think that the mindless Hostel series should be banned? The films of Rob Zombie are littered with acts of torture, often against a back drop of sexual encounters. Yes, they are about as enjoyable to watch as it is enjoyable to bathe in bleach. But they have substantial followings. Followings of people who don’t go out and murder.

And it is not just horror films. Other films depict savage violence and torture, and could potentially fall foul of these laws. Dennis Potter’s work often has a high sexual content in it, and this content includes rape and sexually motivated murder. Yet Potter’s work is still (rightly) highly respected. Are we going to ban that? What about Casino Royale? The scene at the end where Bond is tortured in the nude in (for a man) an outrageously painful way must also be on the cusp of the legislation. Are we going to see people prosecuted for owning that film? Because, as a blockbuster film, there are going to be a lot of people (including your humble author) who could be prosecuted for that. And finally, the final confrontation between Idi Amin and the protagonist of The Last King Of Scotland is a scene of graphic, excruciating torture to a man’s chest. This probably would fall foul of the new laws. So there we go. We should ban an Oscar winning classic of a film, because it contains a scene of horrific torture that accurately reflects what went on under Amin.

Ultimately, the government is deciding what you should and what you shouldn’t find arousing. Mags called things like Fanny Flaps will never be banned by the government, even if they do disapprove of it, because they see the presentations of sexuality within that to be acceptably mainstream. However they will ban anything they deem to be extreme, and use the age old “well, it could influence somebody” argument, even though there is no evidence that extreme porn or violent films make it any more likely that someone will commit and act of violence that the wank worn copy of Knockers and Minge.

This piece of legislation is not a million miles away from implementing the Sex Police. And the question everyone wants to ask themselves is this: do you really want Gordon Brown, a man who probably thinks seven – rather than five – minutes in the missionary position is a good but extreme fuck deciding what you can and cannot do with a consenting partner in the comfort of their own bedroom?

If the answer is “no” then you should oppose this legislation. Let people do whatever they want in their bedrooms and, as an extension of that, let them choose whatever they want – as long as it depicts acts between consenting adults – to toss themselves off to.

*FYI, all the porn mag names in this post are made up. Apologies if there are jazz mags out there with similar titles; rest assured, I am not dissing your no doubt extremely interesting publications.

Things I Couldn't Give A Flying Fuck About #1

"Katie Thornton gives birth to a baby boy".

And? What does she want? A fricking medal?

Although the fact that Katie Thornton has a spokesperson neatly sums up a lot of what is wrong with this country. A bland anonymous TV presenter shouldn't need a spokesperson. Hell, in a sane world she would be generating so little attention that a mobile phone would be a needless expense.

And yes, I am aware of the irony of criticising people for giving attention to meaningless Z list celebrities at the same time as giving meaningless, Z list celebrities attention on this blog. I just don't care about the irony, that's all.

Nick Clegg, Politician in Pampers

I've been laying into Gordon Brown a lot recently. And with good cause, I believe. But I wouldn't want any of the occasional readers of this blog to think that my current ire against our Prime Minister makes me fan of the other leaders of our main parties. Ok, they are not as bad as Brown. But to be not as bad as complete and total shite is not the most wonderful of compliments.

So let's take a look at Nick Clegg. On paper, Nick Clegg should be a great prospect for the Lib Dems. Young, photogenic, reasonably eloquent - he should be the person, given his youth and sobriety, to drag the Lib Dems from their position of being the perennial "also ran" party of British politics. Yet, he really isn't. He really, really isn't.

Much of what follows may appear to be a rant against the relative youth of Nick Clegg. It is not. After all, I am 29 and have no great desire to put up with anything or anyone that disregards people based on their age. No, it is not Clegg's age. Rather, it is his lack of maturity.

I mean, where the ruddy fuck did they find this man? Everything about his exudes the aura of someone who has wound up the leader of a national party but doesn't quite know how he managed it or what he is supposed to do now he has managed it. He is the Early Learning Centre's answer to a political leader. Seriously, his leadership of the Lib Dems feels like "My First Party Leadership". It wouldn't surprise me if, in ten years or so, he is running to be leader of Labour or the Tories, arguing that he has already had some experience of running a party and is now ready to move into the real political world.

Look at some of the things he has done since becoming leader. He embraced Brian Eno as his youth advisor. Fuck knows why, given Eno is pretty much an OAP. He has talked about bedding 30 plus women, like a teenager indulged in willy waving in a minor British public school. And he has sniped at Gordon Brown, like a flea biting the bum of a warthog. It irritates the warthog, but ultimately does not matter at all.

I rant a lot about David Cameron looking like a political lightweight, but, fucking hell, Clegg makes Cameron look like a political genius of the highest order. Which is a pretty big achievement, given Cameron has all the spine and political guile of an amoeba. Unlike Gordon, you wouldn't avoid Clegg like the plague. You'd be more likely to run into him through friends or at parties, and wonder why God/Allah/Fate/his parents ever allowed such an earnest yet cliched twat to walk the earth. And then you would marvel at how on earth such a man ever became leader of a major political party in this country.

Until you realise he is leader of the Lib Dems. Because if they are good at anything, it is electing shit leaders. Be it the ginger drunk. Or the decrepit old fool who appeared to have died years before he became a party leader. In some respects, selecting the Playmobil MP as a leader is completely consistent for the Lib Dems. And further evidence that they are not so much a wasted vote, as a complete waste of space.

Maybe this is why he doesn't like elections.

83.8% voted against him. That's bad, even for Brown.

Gordon Brown, TV Star

For fuck's sake. Can this country's media and the unelected fuckwit in charge get any more moronic and crass?

Producers have approached Gordon Brown to star in an Apprentice-style TV show, it has emerged after a second Cabinet minister's papers were photographed.

Apparently the proposal document said:

"Please, please let all concerned know that this is not stunt TV"

My fucking arse it isn't stunt TV. It is the very definition of stunt TV. It is no different from Celebrity Big Brother - trying to give an unpopular public figure the chance to rehabilitate themselves by stuffing them down the throats of anyone who has a TV. This sounds like one of the more insane ideas of Kim Jong-Il; it has no place, no place whatsoever in modern British Politics. After 10 years of Blair devaluing the office of Prime Minister, Nu Labour and tabloid TV now seem determinned to destroy the stature of the office forever. Fuck them. I hope they all die prematurely and descend to their natural home - the burning fires of Hades.

The Clinton Campaign Rolls On. And On. And On...

As I predicted yesterday, Hillary Clinton has taken her (admittedly impressive) victory in West Virginia as a clarion call to drag her failing campaign for the Presidency onwards. It is a curious campaign now, increasingly taking on a scorched earth feel to it. Basically, if Hillary can’t take the White House, then no Democrat will. Hell, I wouldn’t put running as an Independent past her. She’ll do anything – even handing victory to John McCain – to shaft Obama now.

Still, being a *credible* politician, Clinton has reasons why she should be the nominee, even though it is next to impossible for her to win. Apparently it is because any Democrat needs to take West Virginia to win the White House:

Reiterating a point she has made frequently while campaigning in West Virginia, Clinton pointed out Tuesday that no Democrat has won the White House since 1916 without winning West Virginia.

A few points spring to mind immediately. Clearly Democrats have won the White House without winning West Virginia, just prior to 1916. And Kerry would have won the White House in 2004 without West Virginia, had he managed to take Ohio.

Also, come the General Election campaign, Obama won’t be running against Clinton. In fact, a lot of those voters who went to Clinton yesterday will probably take their votes to Obama. The fact that Clinton has won a lot of those states in the primary contest is a magnificent irrelevance, as come the General Election the Democratic Nominee (or Obama as he will be called after the Democrat’s National Nominating Convention) will be up against a very different opponent in a very different contest.

Finally, in order for any Democrat to win the White House, they have to win the nomination for the party long before they worry about winning West Virginia. And that’s the problem that Clinton has. Obama is winning the nomination, and she isn’t.

Increasingly, the complaints and bellyaching of the Clinton campaign look a lot less like waving, and a lot more like drowning. And if Obama wants to his party a real favour, he should find a way to tie a heavy rock to the legs of the Clinton campaign, so he can witness it disappearing beneath the waves once and for all.

Clinton and Brown: Two peas, same pod

Over in the US of A Hillary is going to win by a landslide but still lose the overall contest. For a lot of people, that would be the moment to pack up your bags and go do something else. For Hillary, it will be a sure sign that the swing is finally going in her direction, that the people are speaking and for the first time she can listen. Mainly because they are speaking in favour of her. I expect her to ramble on to the convention, still pretending she has a chance, still grinning the maniac grin that has so chilled the souls of Democratic voters across the US. Yes, she'll continue to fight until everyone in the Democratic party hates her. Including, hopefully, herself.

You could accuse the Hillary campaign of adopting a bunker mentality - certainly there seems to be an increasing void between reality and the Clinton 08 movement. But for me, the more interesting observation is just how similar Hillary is to our own odious Prime Minister.

Sure, there are some glaring differences. For all her flaws, Hillary has at least show a willingness to put herself at the mercies of the voters - something which sadly seems to terrify our incumbent Prime Minister. But if you paint the character portraits of Hillary and Gordon in broad brush strokes, some key similarities do emerge.

Both sat in the shadows of more charismatic leaders for many years. Both are policy wonks, more at home talking about the minutae of (generally very shitty) policies than they are in connecting with other people. Both have managed to promote themselves to positions far beyond the extent of their own limited abilities. And you'd probably cross the street rather than have a conversation with either one of them.

But for me their biggest similarity is also their greatest flaw. They both believe that they are owed their political positions. They have listened to their own hype, to their own yes men and women, and now cannot understand how anyone could even doubt their rights to the highest political offices in their respective countries. And they are mystified as to why people prefer the likes of Obama and Cameron - those newbie, political lightweights.

And this indignant failure to understand why people prefer Cameron and Obama is proving to be the undoing of both of them. Cameron and Obama do lack gravitas - they are have all the political weight of a size zero supermodel on a diet and a bulimic binge. But - despite this - those lightweights manage to capture the public imagination. Partly by being young, partly by being photogenic, and partly by being inoffensive. Clinton and Brown are old. They look bitter, they are mired in the bogs of their respective political histories. It will be a devastating realisation for both of them; that their time has been and gone. Brown should have run for Labour leader in 1994 - even he could have beaten Major in 1997. And Clinton should have taken on Bush in 2004. By waiting for too long they showed themselves to be calculating, inhuman political machines. And thus left themselves wide open to being eclipsed by less experienced by brighter, sunnier and more human competitors.

Give it up, people. Retire into the shadows with whatever dignity you have left. Because if you stay in the sun too long, you will melt - with your legacies - away into nothing.

A U-Turn? A fuck up...

The Chancellor has made some sweeping changes (a U-turn if you will) to compensate those who have been kicked in the balls by the abolition of the 10p tax rate. Basically, this most fucked over by it will get £120 a year to make them feel better.

Which is fair enough, really. It will compensate fully 80% of those affected by the changes, and compensate the remaining 20% by at least half. Oh happy days! At least for those involved.

Except there is a small problem. The 10p tax rate was scrapped to pay for a tax cut for others in the economic system. By spending £2.7 billion on compensating those stung by another tax cut, there is a black hole in the accounts of the nation. To the tune of £2.7 billion. Which rather begs the question "where is this money coming from?"

The answer is simple:

"Mr Darling... said the measures would be funded through borrowing so as not to take money out of the economy while it was slowing."

Magic. Let's borrow the money. Because an entity that cannot afford to meet existing commitments borrow more money to avoid making difficult decisions seems like a really sensible thing to do. Really fucking sensible. And in no way has that sort of logic created something like the credit crunch in the past.

The Chancellor is an economic retard.

Kicking a man when he is down and loving it

Sometimes I feel sorry for Gordon Brown. No, really, I do. He is such an easy target these days - a lumbering, injured buffalo of a politician - just waiting for someone to fire the fatal shot, and hating every moment of his miserable existence until someone finally does. Kicking Gordon Brown sometimes seems a little like kicking someone in a coma - fucking easy, but ethically wrong. Hell, even Ming Campbell could probably kick Gordo's sorry ass in this day and age.

Of course, those moments are moments of embarrassing weakness, and they soon pass. Just as soon as I remember just some of the mountains of reasons that exist to justify despising Gordon Brown. Because everything, everything about him screams that here, in this dour, grey form, we have a man utterly deserving of hate and angry contempt. John Prescott - a lard mountain in human form - describes Brown as irritating, and you believe him. John Prescott claims Blair was frightened of Brown, and you believe him. Frank Field talks of Brown's rages, his unreasonable behaviour, and you believe him. There is something about Brown that demands you believe the worst of him. He looks haggard, he looks bitter, he looks unhealthy. Frankly, a piss stained drunk looks marginally more healthy - and certainly more in love with life - than our PM. And then there is his behaviour. He seems to revel in the misfortune of others, at the same time as hating the world every time when even the most minor calamity befalls him. He is like a sulky teenager, without the redeeming quality of being able to grow out of it.

Plus, to a large extent, he is the agent of his own misfortune. Despite his attempts to distance himself from not only everything that happened under Blair but also increasingly under his own premiership, Brown has been at the summit of the political mountain in this country for over a decade. And those events that have most hobbled his time as Prime Minister are entirely his own fault. Think about the election misfire. Or the 10p tax rebellion.

Perhaps it is something in the British psyche - that we feel guilty for laughing at those who have fallen on hard times, even if it is their own fault. But if you feel that way about Gordon - don't. Because - and you'll have to trust me on this, but deep down you know it already - he'd laugh at you if you fucked up and ruined your big chance. Hell, it is that sort of moment that probably represents the only occasions when his sour, grey, creased and ill-looking face is cracked up by a smile.

Gordon Brown; a miserable failure. I know, I know; I've said it before. And I guess I will end up saying it again. But we have the worst Prime Minister since Anthony Eden - maybe even Neville Chamberlain. And I am convinced we have one of the most egregious occupants of Number 10 in history. And whilst it is easy to have a pop at Gordo, I believe that - whilst he resides in Downing Street - all those cheap shots should be made.

Doctor Who: The Doctor's Daughter

Well, we met Doctor Who's daughter. Sort of. We met a super soldier created by DNA from his hand. I can't help but feel that is a slight anti-climax. But still, I suppose the Doctor "getting it on" with a lady friend might have been a bit much for Saturday evening. And his phrase "I've done all that in the past" indicates that his more conventionally produced family is (or was) out there somewhere.

All in all, it was an ok episode - one that failed to live up to the potential, but had the decency to still be a good story. Perhaps the concept was just too much - to create, destroy and ressurrect the Doctor's Daughter in 43 minutes is just too much. Still, the epilogue made it clear that she is out there, somewhere, and with the love of returning characters in the new Doctor Who, I've no doubt we will be seeing her again.

But for me, the real stars of the show were the Hath and Catherine Tate. And yes, before anyone quips, it was possible to tell the monsters and Catherine Tate apart from each other. The Hath was well realised aliens, and actually came across as more sympathetic and likeable than their human counterparts (particularly the general, who sounded like a member of the Wurzels). And Tate managed to steal some great lines, especially the one about all the running involved in life with the Doctor.

Ultimately, there was an epic story in last night's episode. For some reason, that didn't quite make it onto the screen. But I'm not going to complain too much about that - at least Doctor Who is where it should be, on the TV, in prime time on Saturday evenings.

Boris: The stakes are high

Mayor Boris is up and running after less than a week in the role. Which is one in the eye for those who thought that it might him a week to work out where City Hall is. And his first policy is to ban booze on public transport.

As policy, it is grossly illiberal. But I’m not going to hark too much on that – have a look at DK if you want the ideological analysis. Be warned/encouraged, he is on sweary form with this one. On a purely practical level, I’m disappointed that I won’t be able to have a drink on a long tube journey anymore. But on the flipside, I will concede that the piss stained tramp on the tube is more pleasant if he isn’t clutching a can of Special Brew. And in his defence, Boris is a Tory, and not a Libertarian. So we should have known that he would have no problem in sacrificing freedom in order to play to the public galleries. This is reality - politicians for the main parties will disappoint, again and again. In fact, it is pretty much the only thing you can rely on with them.

But now, for a lot of people across London, I think the reality is starting to sink in. We have him – Mayor Boris. And with the reality sinking in, the expectations are being raised.

For Tory supporters, his victory is clearly worth celebrating – and I don’t begrudge them those celebrations because they’ve had fuck all else to celebrate since pretty much 1992. On the other side of the fence, the Labourites are whining like little whining bitch kids because their guy lost. Well, fuck them. They should get used to the taste of defeat – judging by the polls, it is going to get a whole lot worse for them.

Yet the extent to which this is actually a Tory victory remains to be seen. The gamble for the Tories was not letting Boris run – had he lost, then the Tories could still have celebrated kicking the arse of Nu Labour in the local elections. No, the gamble for Cameron et al is here and now, and with us for the next four years. There is a lot riding on Boris for the Tories.

Because Boris is the most powerful Tory in the country now. In fact, he is the most powerful Tory since John Major left Downing Street in 1997 to watch some cricket. And rather than having some nice Cameron-esque party poodle in place, the Tories have Boris Johnson. Someone who has no issue with disagreeing with the party line. Someone who can unintentionally attract controversy, just by dint of opening his gob.

Cameron and the Tory high command will be on tenterhooks for the next four years. If Boris does well, then they will have a perfect example for the masses of why the Tories should be in government. If he fucks up, or has some sort of gaffe like declaring war on Liverpool or something, then the Labour party will have a massive stick at the next election to beat Cameron with.

The pressure is on Boris – their crowning achievement of last Thursday’s election is a double-edged sword. And unless Boris is very careful, then Boris could unintentionally make the whole party fall on that sword.

Blair's Perpetual Deputy

Career prospects for Gordon Brown:

But Brown's best move might be to resign as Prime Minister, and become deputy to Blair in all the jobs his old boss is doing. Then each time he can moan that he wants to take over, until Blair finally resigns, then Brown can take over for 20 minutes before becoming Blair's deputy in his next job, until they're both in a retirement home, with Brown saying: "He promised I could take over organising the rummy evenings after six months, it's been 14 years now."

And this is coming from Mark Steel on The Independent website. Brown’s support has waned so much that not even the left and the Labour party seem to support him anymore. Hell, I doubt he even supports himself. Brown should have stayed in Blair's shadow: his time in the sun has shown just how quickly his sickly grey flesh melts when exposed to the centre stage.

Vote Gordon!

Or not, depending on your opinions of him.

Not to worry, though; Brown hasn’t overcome his natural cowardice and actual put himself forward for election. Oh no. Instead, the good people of Madame Tussauds want you to vote on whether they should have a likeness of the grey faced git in their hallowed halls. You can vote, here. And it is worth following the link even if you don’t vote. Whoever wrote the text makes their feelings on Brown very clear:

When Gordon Brown took over from Tony Blair last year, for the first time in a 150 year history, Madame Tussauds took the decision not to immediately create a figure of the current Prime Minister. Instead we chose to wait for a General Election to confirm Gordon Brown’s status. Ten months later there is still no sign that Mr Brown intends to go to the polls – so Madame Tussauds is holding its own election to let YOU decide the question: Gordon Brown – in or out?

That’s how bad it has got for Gordon Brown – he’s being bitch slapped by Madame Tussauds. I look forward to seeing how much lower our Prime Minister can sink. Maybe the Tower Of London will say he’s not welcome there anymore. Or perhaps Hamley’s will put something on their website, suggesting that he goes and fucks himself. Whatever they want to do is fine with me - as long as it makes Brown even more uncomfortable. Because ultimately when tourist attractions are starting to take the piss out of the sitting Prime Minister, you know the game is up.

h/t: Mr E.

Remaking Halloween: How to Miss the Point Completely

For me, the word “reboot” is increasingly a sign that a film, or a TV series, will be good. Think Batman Begins. Or Casino Royale. Or the “re-imagined” Battlestar Galactica. In fact, I was wondering whether I would ever find an exception to the “reboot = good” rule. But it happened. Oh yes, it happened. This weekend. When I watched the remake/reboot of Halloween.

The original Halloween is a classic film, pure and simple. It is a taut, clever piece of film-making. It created a modern cinema monster who has been endlessly copied. It was, for many years, the most successful independent movies of all time and it launched not just a franchise but an entire genre of movies.

The reboot, on the other hand, is a piece of crap that sullies the class of the original film. Hell, the reboot is so bad that it sullies the memory of Halloween 5: The Revenge of Michael Myers. On every single level, the remake misses the point.

I’m not going to go into all the details of what makes this film so bad. It is quite impressive, in a warped sort of way, that the reboot manages to add nothing to the original, despite being a lot longer. But overall the remake seems to be product of a slightly demented mind. Like someone watched the original as a teenager, and because it had boobs in, it slipped into their masturbation fantasies. And the sex scenes grew in their mind, becoming more and more graphic, until they had no relation whatsoever to the original film. At the same time, the dark, silent figure of Myers slipped into the subconscious of that someone who decided to remake the film. As a lonely teenager, they started to identify with Myers on some levels. And started to feel that he didn’t go far enough.

So when they had the chance to remake they film, they decided to put what they remembered up on the screen. Hence the mindless, sadistic tit fest that became the remake.

On reflection, though, I should have known it would be shit. After all, it is written and directed by Rob Zombie. And anyone who calls themselves “Rob Zombie” probably isn’t going to be a cinematic genius…

Election 2008: Intelligence is a plus, not a must

A victory each for Clinton and Obama in the Democratic primaries. So the race drags on. Increasingly the reporters must be enjoying what is effectively an extended holiday for them. I mean, as long as you put “Obama in the lead”, “No knockout blow”, “Narrow victory for Clinton” and “still in the race” into your article then you can pretty much send in the same piece, over and over again. Even the participants seem increasingly bored by the contest. The fight seems to have gone from them.

So we have to take comfort in those smaller stories. Those little encounters. Particularly the ones which embarrass those candidates wishing to fight an election campaign against a daft old man in the winter. Take this little moment for Obama, campaigning at a café:

“At the coffee shop, Obama got a bit of a surprise at one table. While talking to a trio of men eating breakfast, one handed him the bill. "This will seal the thing,'' he said. Obama accepted it, and later took it to the cashier and paid it. The only problem for Obama — he picked up the tab for Steve Czajkowski, a pastor at the local Community Church of Greenwood, and a Canadian citizen who can't vote.”

Magic stuff. Obama ends up buying coffee someone who can’t even vote for him. I suppose you could argue that he had no choice but to buy the coffee – after all, he would have looked tight had he asked for proof of their right to vote before putting his hand in his pocket. Still, fair play to the guys who effectively fleeced him. Although they may regret it if he becomes the most powerful man in the world.

Onto Hillary, who has been casually placing her foot in her mouth:

“Clinton fared no better at a morning event at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway with race car driver Sarah Fisher, one of the top females in the sport. Clinton tried out an analogy, comparing the economy to a race car, saying "if you want to go forward, put it on D - if you want to go backwards, put it in R.'' It was left to Fisher to tell the New York senator that Indy race cars do not have a reverse.”

In fairness, I didn’t know that those sort of cars don’t have a reverse gear either. But then again, I’m not heading up a multi-million dollar campaign that could afford people to do this, very basic, research for me. And when you think about it, it is fricking obvious that these sort cars wouldn’t have a reverse gear. You’d be a piss poor racer if you were driving backwards…

But until the Democrats actually put themselves into gear and work out who they want to contest McCain in the autumn, this sort of anecdotes are the best this campaign can offer. And for one of the two Democratic candidates, these stories will be all they have very soon. Because the time is drawing near when the race will be over for definite, and one of them will have to retire into relative obscurity. Or the US Senate, as it is sometimes called.

Brown Bashing: 55% - Never a good number...

...if they are against you.

And, indeed, 55% of a certain type of people are against Gordon Brown.

Just 55%? Well, yes. But in fairness, these people are Labour supporters. The figure amongst *normal* people will, almost certainly, be much higher.

Gordon Brown. Not so much Labour's answer to John Major. Increasingly, he looks more and more like Iain Duncan Smith. A leader who will never be allowed to contest a national election, for fear of the result...

Fritzl

Over in Europe, it seems the police have uncovered one of the worst example of family related crimes since police in the Midlands started digging up a back garden in Cromwell Street in the 1990's. Cue endless press coverage by a media disappointed that, after a year of milking it, the Maddie McCann story just doesn't seem to be offering the sort of rewards that the witless purveyors of mindless speculation demand.

The latest story is that the monster in question raped his grand-child as well as abducting and fathering children with his own daughter. There is something about this sort of case that leaves me numb as horror upon horror is revealed. And I ultimately wonder why on earth every new development needs to be communicated to all and sundry.

Newspapers etc will be doing it for the money, pure and simple. People want to read about this sort of shit, so newspapers can be forgiven for printing it, at least on some levels. But why is that demand there? Why do people want to read about it?

Some might say it is for some sort of lurid voyeurism, that some might get off on the lurid tales of kidnap and rape. Whilst I'm sure that there might be some people, somewhere, who might fall into this category I both think, and hope, that they are a tiny minority. No, I think that the real reason is that this sort of story allows people to both look down on others and feel safe in their own environments. Yeah, you might be obese and unable to pay the mortgage, but at least you haven't got your daughter in the cellar; or at least you don't have one of the most terrifyingly maladjusted families in modern history. And it is difficult not to feel a better human being than the evil man at the centre of this living nightmare. Perhaps this will be the silver lining of this dark and oppressive cloud of a story - that, no matter what happens, at least your life won't be a fucked up and warped as this particular maniac's.

But I do wish that these articles would stop - for the sake of those involved. Not the man responsible - fucking hell, it is difficult to think of any sort of punishment that would truly fits this most appalling of crimes. Naming and shaming him is nothing compared to what he deserves.

No, it is his family I feel sorry for. The last thing his victims need is to read about their suffering in the media. And the last thing members of his family need are to have even more people learning about the evil of their husband/father/grandfather etc. Can you imagine being one of his kids and/or grand kids at school and some little shit in the playground learns who your parent is? This is a personal crime, it is a personal tragedy - no benefit offered by the ongoing exposure of these heinous crimes warrants the potentially dreadful impact on the innocents involved.

Of course, I'm aware of the irony of belly-aching about the endless speculation on this case at the same time writing about it. I'd point out I am not speculating on it, rather commenting on the impact of it. And I won't be writing about it again. But I just hope, for the sake of those innocents involved, that the media calms down and moves onto another target.

The perpetrator will be punished. The victims involved deserve the chance to be able to escape, without the cloud of speculation and lurid reporting hanging over them.

Regrets, I've had a few

Generally speaking, I have very little time for regrets. There are very few situations in life that I think genuinely warrant the sort of self-pity that comes with regret. Those that do tend to revolve around those moments where you could, in retrospect, have done something great, but it just doesn't quite happen for you. Perhaps because you weren't ready, perhaps because you weren't prepared. I had one such moment today, and my regret is this. That I took a piss before walking home from work.

My walk home from work takes me past the Palaces of Westminster. Idyllic, you might say, especially on a warm spring day like today. Well, yes, I concede, but it can be fucking irritating too. Partly because of the tourists, who insist on stopping every time Big Ben chimes to take a photo (people, you can't hear the chimes on a photo!), but also because of our elected overlords, who are often aided from leaving the building by police officers holding the electorate back as their cars sweep from the Commons, taking with them MPs tired from a big day of fannying around creating needless legislation. Some might say that, as the servant of the people, the MPs should wait until the voters have crossed their driveway before they leave their place of work. I don't agree - the sooner we can get any MP away from the Commons the better, as it reduces their ability to make the aforementioned needless legislation. Plus, if they waited until the path was clear they'd be waiting for ever, what with the constant stream of tourists standing in the way of oncoming traffic to take photos of a sodding bell sodding chiming.

Today, my path was impeded by a car containing an MP. And it was none other than the badger faced cunt himself - Chancellor of the Exchequer Darling. And in the back seat there was a female MP. I think it might have been Harriet Harman, but I can't be sure. What little light that wasn't being sucked into the black holes that make up eyebrows of Darling was being reflected from his shiney hair into my eyes. But what a target for anyone who is a Nu Labour hater!

Imagine if I had not pissed before I left work. I could have pulled open my flies, and deluged the car with a stream of warm, foamy urine. Clever, witty political satire it wouldn't have been. However it would have been an accurate reflection on the status that I - and, I sense, a lot of other people in this country - hold our elected leaders in.

So, dear reader, if you too are a hater of this incumbent government, and are walking near Westminster, please don't make the same mistake as I made. Walk around that area with a full bladder. And then, when you have the chance to show the likes of Darling that you would only piss on them if they weren't on fire, you can rise to the occasion with gusto. Maybe enough people urinate on their vehicles as they pass, then the members of Brown's Cabinet might finally get the message that we really, really don't like them.

Doctor Who: The Poison Sky

Grand. Just grand. A classic episode, and proof that the new season is just getting better and better. Three reasons as to why I liked this episode so much:

1. The Sontarans were allowed to be more than just monster of the week. Their war chant, their love of death, the way they ruthlessly gunned down UNIT troops whilst laughing about it. They came into their own in this episode. And unlike some of the monsters who have re-appeared in the ressurrection of Doctor Who (Slitheen, anyone?) I'd like to see more of them. Soon.

2. The visual effects were great. I mean, they really were. It looked like people were having fights and being killed in the battles. It looked like the earth was chanting on the smog. And, best of all, it looked like the sky was on fire at the end of the episode. Gone are the days of wobbly sets and crudely sketched on rays and lights. Doctor Who could now compete with Hollywood.

3. The impossible happened: I warmed to Donna. And I can pinpoint the exact moment. It was when the Doctor, after having apparently gone to sacrifice himself on the Sontaran ship, reappeared. Martha ran over to hug him. Donna? No. She walked over and gave him an indignant smack on the arm. Which, let's face it, he sometimes needs.

So a great, great episode. And next week's could be even better - The Doctor's Daughter played by, well, the Doctor's daughter.

Blimey! It is only bally Boris!

So we've got it: Mayor Boris. And I dare say that, with this latest electoral kick in the teeth, some people in the Labour party will be looking for Prime Minister Straw. Or maybe Prime Minister Miliband. Perhaps Prime Minister Benn. As an extreme - a return of Prime Minister Blair. But I'd imagine most in the Labour Party would go for Prime Minister Anyone-But-That-Twat-Brown as they look at the election results this morning.

They'll be lots of celebrations and autopsies, focused on why - and how on earth - Boris Johnson, a man more famous for being ripped to shreds on TV panel shows and being sacked for lying about being able to keep his love tackle in his pants - has become Mayor of one of the greatest cities on earth. For me the reason is simple - he is less odious than Livingstone. Others might see different reasons - perhaps the hate campaign of The Evening Standard against the former mayor played a part, of the egregious corruption of the Livingstone's cohorts helped to oust him from office. You could argue that his Mayoral election had bugger all to do with those running against it, and was more about national politics. About using the bland, I-Can't-Believe-They're-The-Tory-Party Cameron Tory party to kick Gordon Brown in his knackers. But hey ho, there will be hundreds of different theories; it is all irrelevant now. Boris is the mayor, and Ken will be shuffling away from the political limelight for a while.

But let's look to the future. Boris has a real opportunity here to shine. To take the role he's won, make it his own, and really do a lot for the City of London. If I were to send a message to him this morning it would be simple - do something, but don't fuck it up. Unfortunately, Boris failed to show in the campaign exactly what he would do in power if he won, other than not be Ken Livingstone. Well, Boris, it worked, and you won. But don't fall into the trap of thinking that if you do nothing, you are doing OK. That would be to follow the Blairite example through and through, and I think (I certainly fucking hope) that people have had enough of Blairism by now.

Half the city thinks Boris is a great hope for London, the other thinks he is a bumbling, posh tit. The jury's out on this one, and it is down to Boris to show which of those two options he is. I hope he rises to the challenge; I've yet to be convinced that he will.

Brown Bashing: Losing. Badly.

It is a bad day for Labour. A truly shocking day for Gordon Brown. Therefore, it is a great day for anyone who despises the incompetent shower of shits who run our country and the flaccid cock of a man who runs the government. I, for one, am smiling. In fact, I'm tempted to do a happy jig.

Brown not so much failed his first electoral test as not turn up to the exam room until half an hour into the test, and when he did manage to turn up, he forgotten to revise, put on his trousers and actually had no clue whatsoever that he was being tested. This must be why Gordo shies away from elections. He's fucking shite at them.

A Tory government has gone from being possible but highly unlikely at the next election in 2005 to an almost certainty when Gordo finally goes to the national polls. At these elections, it appears Labour has dipped below the level of the Liberal Democrats. That's how crap Gordo is. He's worse than Nick Clegg.

Two things can happen now, depending in part on whether Boris takes City Hall from Red Ken. Either the Labour party limps on under Gordo to an almost certain defeat at the next General Election. Or they admit that Brown was a colossal error of judgement, and ditch him unceremoniously for another candidate - possibly Jack Straw. I favour the former option, even though it involves Brown being in power for longer. Because a new Labour leader might just turn it around, and win the next General Election. If Brown clings to power, Nu Labour, and this godawful government that has been in power for far too long, falls.

The strategy for the Tories, Lib Dems and anyone else who hates Labour is clear - do whatever they can to keep Gordon in power, so he can lead his increasingly suicidal government over the cliff at the next election, and down into the jagged rocks and roaring sea of harsh historical judgement.