Blogging Controls

Loads of people are currently blogging about the latest attempt by the authoritarian left (you know them, they're the ones who talk about "freedom" and who really don't buy the whole freedom of speech thing, and who think that my rights not to be persecuted or suspected by the state are not as important as your right not to have someone else attack you, whatever that means), to fuck the conservative blogosphere.

Well, look to Canada. It's been underway for years and they damn nearly won. If only Ezra Levant hadn't kicked up such a fuss, and hadn't protested so loudly about being persecuted by a quasi-legal body with the power to exact extra-judicial punishments to last the rest of your life, who make you pay the costs of your defence while the complainants get money from, er, you; if only people had not been fooled by the left's arguments about its flexibility being its strength (ie the fact that it is not constrained by law); if only people had agreed with one or two notable Canadian leftists that Mr Levant should of shut his gob and accepted his punishments, and bought the whole left narrative that people opposed to this appalling abuse of power were anti human rights in general and just, you know, bad; if only that had never happened, they would have won.

They would.

They still might win. We know, from experience of "independent" bodies like the Charities Commission that the first things these regulators go after are old style left wing targets. You can bet your final euro cent that if such a law were imposed it would only be rightish blogs subject to its constraints, for only they could be considered to show hate (after all, some people deserve hate (C. H Harman)), only they would be expected to account for themselves.

We know that such a law, or such a "code", or such a regulatory body, would command the death of free speech online, to enable the left to conform all typed speech to its own prejudices: hate of Christians,of men, of rich people (all the oppressor people, basically - you know, those people who definitely are privileged, whatever has happened in their own lives ( c. H Harman) - would be ok. And "hate" of the left's client groups would be defined as "any statement that the key pressure organisations of X-group disagree with", as it more or less is anyway.

It would fuck, permanently, opposition to anything the left loves.

Do not believe the opinion polls. They mean nothing. The left is not about to give up the reins of power: over the state broadcaster, over education, over all public services including police and judiciary, over academia. IF the Tories win the election we will go on as before unless something deeply radical is done.

For the left write history, which is why the history books tell us how unlucky I was (Jim Callaghan), but how evil Mrs T was; how the unions were blameless; how shadowy right wing groups brought down lovely lefty governments in the 70s and how wicked electoral rules deprived Labour of victory in 1992 (yes, I've read this). The left are already writing this period: global conditions, nothing Labour could do, positive social legislation, key evidence based action, nothing Labour could do, good relations with Europe, nothing Labour could do.

And so on.

Nothing Labour could do: the stock tale of the postwar history book. It barely matters who you read, the story is the same.

Unless the Tories can cut this cancer out of the body-history-politic, it will all happen again, and David Cameron's government will be the 2nd most wicked in history, and Gordon Brown's the 2nd most sinned against.

A Point re: 80s Pop

Depeche Mode's "See You" borrows the central riff from Joy Division's "Love Will Tear Us Apart".

Twice.

That's all.

What Is The Point?

I am occasionally asked, by strange souls who accost me in the street with their ancient slacks held up by tomato-plant string, why I don't blog more often. The answer is this: there is no point. No-one cares. The Left is in complete control of our world, whatever the opinion polls say: the (academic, New) Left controls academia, education, public service and the nation's public broadcaster. Its assumptions are made the conclusions of "reports" by academics who make you wonder if they could ever have produced reports of a different nature: the stewards of "evidence", as we saw during the Fertilisation & Destruction Bill debate, are very keen to turn the debate away from evidence when it suits them, and onto ideology (I believe one MP said to IDS during that debate "Are you saying I am less than human" or something vaguely similar). When Labour are caught, with their pants round someone else's ankles, and their little knobs fluttering sadly in the breeze, they can always rely on the BBC to ask them, "So whose fault is it that your pants are currently waddling down the street on a fat man's hairy legs?" They release Tractor Production in the UK(raine) stats one day and the BBC leads with them the next, complete with phone ins about how ignorant the people are.

I was a fairly compulsive listener to Radios 4 and 5 between 1993 and 1997 and I do not recall any radio shows presented from the Tory govts' POV. I do not recall them asking why we did not accept Government statistics. I do not recall them writing that we were being fooled by an x(wing) media (though I loved playing X-Wing at the time).

We are being fooled, taken for a gigantic ride by a government which, unlike the last massively incompetent one, has the support of all the nation's best and brightest. They support control of individuals, are innately suspicious of what they call "liberty", demand that we present ourselves to government for inspection regularly, have no problem with our being routinely surveilled, like it that we should be suspects for crimes that no police force would ever properly regard us as suspects for (via the DNA database). My right to be considered a law abiding citizen is just that - a right. You do not have a right, whatever crime you have suffered, to consider me as automatically a suspect. If there is a reason, then fair enough. Presumably, you can justify it. If not - leave me out of your enquiry.

Is that good enough for you lefties, you "oh, some people think you have a right to be left alone by the state" merchants, you loathers of real individual rights?

I guess not. You will never be happy. You see rights as given and taken by government, on the basis of need, expediency and group identity.

Never mind.

They will win - already have, they always win. Their policy is based on suspicion and hate and yet they are winning.

Then there are their other ideological allies, regardless of nominal "party", stopping people in cars to see if they are smoking, demanding adherence to draconian rubbish collection rules (while abolishing their duty of collection), enforcing weird crimethink laws, prosecuting people for protests against councils' neglect of duty, using bizarre laws to watch people for weeks on end to see if they are trying to get their child into a good school, whinging and nagging at people in publicly funded documents, thinking that getting a bit tipsy is worrisome while not thinking that 200 000 abortions a year is owt to give a toss about, hectoring and intruding on people - as long as it is not their sexuality of course. No. No-one should be made accountable for sexual choices - only food, drink, work, thought, speech and exercise choices. And association. And religion.

And then there are the legions of fascists, deniers, reactionaries, Daily Mail readers, fundamentalists, "well funded lobbies" - all different terms of abuse based on dissent. What the hell is the point of dissent when abuse is what you get. Soon, of course, for various kinds of dissent, it will be fines and/or prison, like it is is Canada (and many very very intelligent people there really do think you should be fined for saying something someone else does not like, made to pay for your defence while the prosecution is paid for by the state, and who are able to make extra-judicial punishments like "x may not speak on this subject ever again" (see: http://www.ezralevant.com) and if you think I am scum or stupid for linking to Ezra, you can fuck off and leave me alone - and never, ever, try to make laws for me, or I will fight you with every bone in my body)

I read the Torygraph and generally its abuse is reserved for those in power. I can't recall a leader where it has abused ordinary (ie non-government) people in terms like those listed above, whereas I find them ten a penny in the Indy and Grauniad.

Sex is the new prolefeed.


And though I've written here about fighting - don't bother, really. The Left's victory over the people is complete. Any incoming Tory government will be powerless. They'd need to privatise the BBC and the entire education system to eradicate systematic Leftist bias among all educators on all levels -and, like myself, they do not have the balls.

So just drink.

While you can.

Then call Labour "a bunch of cunts".

Before it becomes a hate crime.

Maths Is a Piece of Piss

I say this only because i am a vaguely competent AS Level Maths student whose tutor thinks he is doing really well. I say it also only because I am a braggart who has had little to brag about in recent years and so it gives him immense pleasure to complete the square.

Unfortunately I don't see myself as being a completed square but merely as a weird polynomial with a constant of -42. Or it might be -94. I think that my curves, which are unnatural and unattractive, must be governed by a strange combination of powers of x, where x more or less equals "Stella & crisps". Indeed I am P(Stella) for all possible values of Stella.

You don't want to know my remainder, you really don't. Probably I am (x+Stella)(x+crisps)(x+whisky)(2x+5Stella) or something like that.

I guess I don't factorise.

No One There At All

Nor is there: anyone there at all. When you open the curtains, in the dead of summer still-night, not only are there no bodies but there is no movement or light there, in the undark hours of lightly blacked day we have in this polar part of the world. No-one stands there with open arms, to say that you exist and they love you for it; or that they need you; or that they want you - in every single case, without exception, you are just a body. Your body is needed, or it is wanted, or it is not: you are frankly a hindrance to their getting the best use out of your torso & bollocks. Who are they? They are the sexual paymasters, the bodies you want: they are the dreams you once had and they are the shame: the endless sense of unfulfilled desire, the outpouring of life. You thought that actually life was about how much you could drain yourself into someone else and you were wrong: it was about how much you could stop yourself hanging off the strongest oak bough you could find. What a good bough it was, 200 years old, it had seen, even absorbed many like you, and carried such hearts in its still veins. Only you were too weak for the oak. You would have brought it crashing to the sodden autumn forest floor. Indeed, you thought that I would never really be, having left you in the middle of a young estate. Actually there you grow, stronger, thicker, with ever more space and presence, ever more command over light, while I just fade into your branches, then roots. I always want to be roots. Then I am a quadratic. Two roots, both rational. Or even irrational. I don't really mind, as my carbon leaches into the acid soil.

TD Completes MPC1

Well I may well be a dickhead, a twat, an idiot, an arse and as bald as a coot who's had all his feathers shaved off, but I have finally finished the first module of A Level Maths & Stats.

I don't know where I stand on the dumbing down debate; all I can say is that in 1994 I did not have a fucking clue and today I do have a clue. I just don't get it, is all.

That must mean standards are slipping.*


* As my wonderful late uncle said when I told him I had been accepted by Oxford. We don't really do self-esteem in our family.


By the way the number of WRONG ANSWERS in the HEINEMANN ADVANCING MATHS FOR AQA C1 AND C2 book is truly OUTRAGEOUS. And it is not just me who says this, but my official tutor, and my unofficial tutor, with whom I share most Tuesday lunchbreaks.

Twats. Can't you even proofread? Jesus, I am a Catholic and even I can proofread.

New Year Resolution Successfully Kept

I'm talking here about the spurious one, invented a couple of days later. This was the resolution about not having sex.

I've kept it scrupulously, even if I do say so myself.


And against....oh, no temptation at all.

Off-Colour Claire

With rather more time than work today I eliminated another set of half-memories by looking up Garbage Pail Kids on Wikipedia. My memory of these was that I had shedloads of series 4,5,6 and 7, a couple of series 3, but that series 1 and 2 were deliciously rare - with the rarity itself being significant, not the content of the cards. In fact I think I did possess some series 1, but I swear I could only actually recall Les Vegas, Stoned Sean (having magnificently failed to get the joke or should I say get the toke, but then I was a sheltered 10 years old) and one or two others, leaving me to think that actually I didn't have any at all, and had only seen the cards of classmates in passing. I certainly don't recall any like Ray Gun or US Arnie which cast satirical aspersions on 80s celebrities and I was pretty politically aware for a 10 year old (I used to warn my friends of the possible imminent end of the world, while they tried to tell me what would happen to your willy if you got naked with a girl. In fact they never needed my advice while I didn't need theirs until I was 24).

Looking at the artwork now, the number of cards devoted to hairy women is either an advert for misogyny or a prediction of the rise of modern pornography, in which women have no hairs at all except for the dyed ones on their heads plus some statistically insignificant working follicles over the eyes and whatever it is that makes eyelashes. Just as well Carlyle wasn't a c21 porn addict, he'd've had a heart attack (was it Carlyle, or was it Ruskin, who was horrified by his wife's pubic hair - presumably he didn't have any of his own then, or maybe he went to a late Victorian back,sack'n'crack merchant every Friday night).

The title card of this post was one renamed for the UK market, on the basis that British kids wouldn't get whatever name it was in the original (Clara), but were endlessly familiar with Claire with an i.

As, of course, we are.

Kassia's Wedding Music

One of my more secret loves (among the many that are, unfortunately, somewhat more public than either they or I deserve to be) is for Doctor Who incidental music, especially the ground-breaking synth stuff of The Daemons and The Sea Devils, but also the more conventional early 80s music. Of these I've loved Kassia's Wedding Music out of The Keeper of Traken since I was first lent the seminal BBC Records and Tapes album "Music from Doctor Who" in late 1986. I still have the c90 tape of this I made at the time. It still sounds as mysterious, as held out for, as wished to see, as it did all those long years ago.

Yes, yes, alright. Shut up. I don't have to subject myself to global ridicule you know. I just choose to because I'm an inverted egomaniac.

More Right Wing Anti-State Paranoia

There's been a lot of it about lately: but clearly the state and its agencies are there to protect us, especially the most vulnerable members of society. They are looked after, cared for, nurtured. Attempts to hurt or damage them are resisted by such organs of the state as the National Children's Bureau, who would clearly be against labelling personal likes and dislikes as racist, permanently recording suspicious remarks and punishing tiny children in attempts to root out something from society.

Clearly.


I did wonder how long it would take before individuals needed to ideologically check their personal tastes before adopting them. I didn't think it would start with toddlers though.

Who Update - no spoilers

Actually, I did, independently of Matt's advice (see below), work out that I could watch Who on the iplayer, which I did. And I thought it was very cool indeed. Very cool. Some elements were typical RTD end of season, like the kind of silly-science explanations that make the endings of the Daemons and Terror of the Vervoids look peer-reviewed, and the actual plot was over about 15 minutes before the end, while we spent the last quarter of an hour emotionally wallowing, but overall it was pretty ace. Davros was excellent throughout - much better than Terry Molloy's Davros. I did find myself dashed annoyed that there was no Season 5 next year- I hope the specials are up to the same standard!

Matt Please Don't Spoil It For Me, I'm Not Visiting Your Site

****ing bastard school play, oh hang the asterisks, fucking fucking bastard school play and removal to Reading and no way of recording, argh, oh fuck, oh fucking fucking fuck. Doubtless this man knows all about it, well he would wouldn't he, the miserable lucky fucking bastard, oh bollocks. bollocks bollocks bollocks I probaly won't know for a week!!! A WHOLE WEEK!!!! Fuck!!!!!

Everyone is a bastard.

Bastards!!!

Bollocks. Even the gf won't even hint at what happened. Miserable cow.


Dare I go to Outpost Gallifrey....no, I daren't. I don't want to know, I just want to SEE THE FUCKER.

Now you know. This is why I was not having sex when I was 13, or indeed 16. Because this is what I was saying all the time. Well, 13, yes, but by 16, there was no Who, so it was all about not meeting the gf(as she then was) but spending my £10 on the latest VHS (such as the Daemons). At 16 1/2 I wanted to see DOCTOR WHO AND THE SILURIANS more than I wanted to kiss the then gf. ~Much as I loved kissing her, the thought of Jon Pertwee..and the luscious Caroline John, and early synth music, and that gorgeous converted VHS quality, and Fulton Mackay, and Major Baker, and Nyder!!! And GEOFFREY PALMER.....well now, that was more than enough for me then: nervous fumbling? awkward tongues? rejected advances? Fuck it all!!!

DOCTOR WHO IS THE DOG'S BOLLOCKS.

NuWho is more like the mongrel's slightly lower hanging right testicle, but it is still ace.


No wonder I've never exactly been a stud, but am somewhere to the right (I assume) of the Spectrum*.



*What do you mean, what Spectrum? The Aspergers one of course.


"But would you do it?"
..."Yes, yes, I would do it." [snaps forefinger and thumb] "That power would set me up above the gods! And through the Daleks, I shall have that power!"