Friday, 30 April 2010

The Final Leadership Debate:

Again, no Budd Dwyer moment.

But you're right, Gordon was in the thick of it, and throwing out some seriously stress induced shapes...Shouldn't call core voters bigots, and then attempt to gloss over it really.

Clegg played the same record as before, *haughty look at camera and pause for effect* and the groove is starting to wear out...Gone was his crystal sharp dynamic range, being replaced with a kind of irritating fuzz (these record comparisons doing anything for you? No)

Cameron, was on fire...The pundits and polls agreed.

In the same manner as Clegg a fortnight ago, he engaged the audience and made Gordon look like a toby jug full of warm piss.

I note, some unkindness about his performance from the usual sources (comments on BBC news tickers from voters etc)...You see no answers in his statements, he is all soundbite...Well, Clegg's been doing that for 2 weeks now and seemingly had the punters in the palm of his hand. This exposes the ultimate goal of the TV debate...To weed out the un-photogenic, to remove real substance and replace it with who can say the most ingratiating statements while keeping a stern Hollywood leadership face.

UK politics has simply become more about who has the most media savvy leader, and that seemed to start with Mr. Blair.

Thursday, 29 April 2010

Gordon's Gaffe

We've waited a long time for it, and finally it happened...Gordon took us by the hand, and led us into the hall of monstrous gaffes.

This being written 20 hours later, I have had time to digest and discuss many points that have emerged from the swirl of issues the whole event highlights.

1) Gordon Brown did mean it,

The party line is that he said it in haste, he was letting off steam, he is mortified he said it, he respects everybody blah blah blah. Now, based on my experiences of life...When I vent at a difficult customer, or a pupil (used to teach), I bloody well meant it! The alternative is the slow accumulation of anger and rage, that would eventually lead to wielding a dumbbell against the unholy spawn of piss poor parents. In the complex social world we inhabit, the need to appease others for social advancement is a well understood construct. MPs and especially those in or seeking the highest elected office in the land, they will be playing by this rule since their jobs depend upon it. Gordon, vented about his core voters...He meant it.

2) Gordon misinterpreted what Mrs D. said.

I think he did. Every member of the great unwashed obviously knows less than Gordon because Gordon is the PM...right? Bullshit. Mrs D. knows more about what goes on in her life, her estate, her local environment, than Gordon could ever possibly know, so when she mentions a problem with immigration, it's not based on watching Bernard Manning and the BNP manifesto, it is a response to the pressure of Labour's unchecked immigration policy, you remember it? The one designed to rub the rights face in it. So Gordon heard what she said, and misinterpreted it into her being a stupid member of the great unhosed.

3) Bigot, was not the only insult.

I am a public speaker, it is my bread and butter...There was much more contained within his Jaguar hosted rant. Let us analyse his words:

PM: That was a disaster. Should never have put me with that woman ... whose idea was that?

The stark tone of sneering bitterness in his opening remarks...He was genuinely angry about having concluded a very positive chat with a life long Labour core voter.

PM: It's Sue, I think. It's just ridiculous. (Muffled sounds)

He does spit out the word ridiculous with venom...Ridiculous is quite a strong word. Opening something up for ridicule, beneath contempt, wrong etc.

PM: Ugh, everything - she's just a sort of bigoted woman, said she used to be Labour. It's just ridiculous.

So, everything Mrs D. said was ridiculous...So there you go. The opinions of a core voter do not count to the PM. Again, his speech his full of venom, very bitter and cruel.

4) The media are quite, invasive.

Mrs D. reminded me of my gran, northern, core Labour, working class and proud but also with a very practical intelligence. A spade is a spade, whatever Mandelson says, kind of intelligence. Well, to see her being pursued by the media circus was quite remarkable and a little worrying. I genuinely feared for her since the media have been camping outside her door all day, and she has hired a PR agent etc. It must be quite an awful situation for somebody who isn't the type to parade themselves on the X Factor 24/7. The poor woman has been thrust into the spotlight because of the actions of a bullying and very rude PM. I may change my opinion of her if Mrs D. emerges into the spotlight in a tinsel get-up, milking her 15 minutes for all it is worth.

5) Spin Doctors are laughable.

Did you see the way Labour were trying to play it? Oh, he is human, he makes mistakes, but at least he apologises for them! Oh and look, Cameron got into an altercation with a man who HAD A DISABLED SON. The last point hasn't taken, and rightly so since Cameron didn't (or in the interests of fairness, there was no medium to record his after discussion words) patronise him, has had a disabled son himself, and had a good long old chat. Now, I couldn't give a flying fuck at a rolling donut here, Gordon was rude, he was caught, whatever way you spin it, the guy is a nasty piece of work. The very nature of spin tells me that a lot of the British public do not think how I think, they do not critically analyse something, put it into context, form an opinion and move on...Instead they remain open vessels for spin doctors to fill with carefully constructed facades.

Monday, 19 April 2010

The twin worlds of Geology and ATC combine (I'd never have thought it :D ) and all is quiet on the aviation front...Marvellous. But, the economic fallout of stopping one of the major conduits of globalisation from moving, is vast! If this bloody Volcano keeps on churning out the good stuff, then Europe is going to start feeling the pinch.

But, it's the first time today that I've noticed anything tangible from the ash, other than on Met reports. The sun is due to set in just under an hour, and the sky has turned blood red and orange, oh and there is ash on my car people, ash on my car...Time to call in some journalists to film it whilst I stand off to one side like a bellend.

What's next?

Fire and brimstone coming down from the skies! Rivers and seas boiling!
Forty years of darkness! Earthquakes, volcanoes...
The dead rising from the grave!
Human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together... mass hysteria!

Thursday, 15 April 2010

The Great TV Debate

For the purposes of this election...I am a Tory. Thus would love to award victory to Cameron in tonight's historic TV debate. But alas, I cannot.

In this matter, it was all about the TV debate. Nothing more, nothing less. Screw policy and the ability to stick to your argument etc. What people at home saw was the performance of these three individuals. Hence, whomever was more relaxed and convincing in front of the camera, (not in front of the audience) would come out on top.

Both Gord' and Dave' had huge expectation on their shoulders...A colossal weight on them, I admire both of them for not having stress related heart failure to be honest! Nick had none of that pressure, he had nothing to lose. Thus, no matter what he said, his body language was that of somebody at ease, somebody who exuded assuredness and confidence. The camera notices these things, and boy was it apparent.

Gordon pissed me off when he began to lecture Cameron like a headmaster "David, David..David...What I want you...etc!" Cameron pissed me off when he stuck to his Jobs Tax line (Jesus Christ man, you have so much more to offer, I ranted!). But Nick, free from pressure, and knowing that both Cameron and Brown cannot afford to alienate him in a potential hung parliament situation...Well, he was loving it, and boy did it come across.

The internet polls are strongly Clegg, as expected...Labour 2nd, and Cameron 3rd. To be honest, I expected this from the internet demographic where left leaning ideas and a youthful audience are prevalent (once people start paying shit loads of tax, or began to plough through neo-socialist paperwork and targets, they turn Tory).

Sky is placing Cameron as the Winner...What a surprise! Other agencies put Cameron second.

In my heart of hearts, I wanted Cameron to walk this, I expected him to walk it...He is the most natural performer at PMQs and Tory conferences...But he didn't. The weight of expectation and the unfamiliar environment seemed to stifle him a little. I hope that with the fear of the unknown removed, he will kick ass next time. But I think Clegg will continue to walk the TV debates unless he overtakes Labour as the second place party! Then things may change as the pressure would mount on him to deliver a result.

Tuesday, 13 April 2010

The wonders of the modern world

So, Labour's desire to be hip and down with the cool kids re: this social networking into-blog phenomena, had the predictable response of stirring up a shit-storm.

The attractive Miss Gellard, paraded before the media to open Labour's election manifesto, had been plucked from her world of blogs and tweets to present some kind of young techno-credible image for Gordon's big clunking iron wank spanner.

I wonder if she would have been hand picked for this occasion if she fallen from the higher branches of the ugly tree? I somehow doubt it. Find that offensive, I assure you it's meant to be a criticism of the world and its image concious ways and nothing more.

Problem being, any words you fire into the public domain, are often preserved for a lot longer than you care to realise. It is quite possible to trawl through somebodies blog and find something that doesn't tally with what you're saying in the here and now. Forum posts are renowned for this. Something said to secure an advantage in a debate, will be squirrelled away by a wounded party to use against you at a later date. Seen it happen, been on the end of it.

The English language is also a wonderful thing that can be twisted into a million and one meanings if you work at it hard enough. I remember once picking through my terms of conditions of employment to contest a decision made by higher management that I had to deal with overspill from the call centre...Arguing the toss over the definitions of 'taking' or 'making' calls. In the end, they stopped arguing with me and I did not have a phone put on my desk. Naturally, the wounded parties would have retreated and simply decided I'd never be promoted. But screw them, I moved on.

So back to Miss Gellard. Well, predictably, a million and one probably Tory bloggers, poured their man hours into finding anything off kilter in her blog, and found it. Hasty denials are issued by the blogger, journalists wade in because they smell something unpleasant to highlight. Other journalists wade in to deflect criticism, and to pour scorn on those journalists who initially waded in to criticise them for their unwarranted criticism. Cue one nice big scat storm.

Don't you just love elections. I'd love to retreat to my bunker of ignorance deep within the mountain of common sense, and push the big red button.

Monday, 12 April 2010

The Manifesto of Labour

Ah, so the election continues to rumble on...Today we were treated to the delights of Gordon launching the Labour manifesto in a brand new hospital in Birmingham. He took the time to point out that without Labour in charge, this new edifice would not have been constructed and so Labour are obviously great.

He didn't point out that it has been constructed under that notorious debt hiding device PFI...Whereby the taxpayer has to fork out a shed-load more on interest payments over a long period of time in order to purchase the hospital. The lie of PFI is what props up Gordon's economic record. Using the nation's credit card to buy big new shiny things to distract us all with. It certainly makes it look as though Labour had the readies to fund big change, but then again I would also look comparatively wealthy to my peers if I spent thousands of pounds on electrical goods using my credit card. My appearance of stability would soon tumble when the bailiffs came looking for things to take to satisfy my creditors.

This I believe is why people are somehow still being hoodwinked by the great lie of Labour's economic record. They made the same mistakes during the boom years, rather than save up to buy the plasma screen, they bought it on credit and are only now discovering that it takes a lot longer to shift debt than they at first thought. Rather like Labour, they choose to ignore the bill and pay it later over a long long long period of time. Initially this seems less painful, but the debt remains, like a millstone, for a lot longer. Hence, people have a sort of unwritten empathy with sad old Gord' and choose to shrug and put up with his mistakes, because they suspect the Tories will repeat the 80s in order to sort the country out once more. That was a painful decade, but also a prosperous one.

I also did enjoy the cover of the Labour manifesto...Very old Socialist, and readily spoofable!

Cheers Monty.

Sunday, 11 April 2010

Organ Donation cock-up.

Organ Donor Error

The NHS identified 21 cases in which the wrong organs may have been taken from donors.


This...Is bullshit. Once your brain ceases to function, you no longer give a shit about where your organs end up. May as well use them to help keep the sick and infirm living alive.

The hue and cry has been raised, and all the usual crappy arguments are trotted out often involving religion or having confidence in knowing that your wishes are being adhered to. Listen people, you're dead...You would not give even the slightest toss if somebody crudely animated your corpse using string and nails, and paraded you through the streets as a gruesome rotting marionette, you'd be dead. Rather like last night, in between the dreaming, you cannot remember the black bits because nothing happened in them that registered...Ditto that thing before you were born, that's a nothing. You'd have entered the same state.

Naturally, religion or the icky feeling people have about death often prevents them from thinking logically about organ harvesting, and imparts an almost selfish urge to hang onto your bits. But using the power to look ahead that humans have...You'll either be condemning those useful organs to becoming ash, or mouldering away into a stinking mass of chemicals that nourish myriad flora and fauna.

After my death, you can do what you like with my body. The more humerous the better. I'd like to be videoed in my slow decay and the resultant daily display used as a kind of macabre test card slotted between episodes of Strictly Come Dancing and whatever other dire Saturday/Sunday night show is scheduled for after. That way I can better humanity by persueding people not to watch the box, but to instead hace some kind of social life because I remind them of their own short time on Earth, and also because most people find a decomposing corpse repugnant (except for those weird bastards in Africa who dig up their relatives every year and parade them round for all to pay tribute to!) and would rather go out somewhere instead.

Saturday, 10 April 2010


Dripfeeds...So what the hell are they then?

Well, consider it a metaphor, if you're ever woken vomit caked in hospital having spent the previous evening supping from mother natures firey cup of Alco-fun...You'll more than likely have been hooked up to a nice plastic tube and bag o' saline. The Dripfeed. It sustains you, it helps you through the night, it ensures you don't lose your kidneys.

So a written dripfeed, I'd quite like it to be something that sustains you as well, and having once suffered from a Silent UTI that was bloody painful, at some point in the future I could advise you on how to keep your kidneys healthy (don't drink nothing but coffee for several days and miss a lot of sleep). At the very least, consider this something to enjoy after you have spent the evening imbibing.

I've spent my life being dripfed, a steady diet of lies, spin, crud, idiocy, prats and pillocks. But screaming at the TV or newspaper doesn't do it any more, the mental diarrhoea has to emerge somewhere or else I'll get the written equivalent of colon cancer.

The continual jockeying for position in the current UK elections has triggered an overload of bile I need to expel.

So. Drip feeds then...This is what they are. Random, irrelevant, but more than likely slightly centre right in opinion and brutally honest. Enjoy.