Woody Harrelson on feeling like an alien and other wise ponderings . . .

It’s apparently from a 2003 film named Go Further that curiously slipped my I must watch all films that have a green message radar.  Anyway, I came across it on Facebook via Occupy Love and was so awestruck I thought I’d share it.  Appropriate for Earth Day methinks.

I sometimes feel like an alien creature
for which there is no earthly explanation
Sure I have human form
walking erect and opposing digits,
but my mind is upside down.
I feel like a run-on sentence
in a punctuation crazy world.
And I see the world around me
like a mad collective dream.
An endless stream of people
move like ants from the freeway
cell phones, pc’s, and digital displays
“In Money We Trust,”
we’ll find happiness
the prevailing attitude;
like a genetically modified irradiated Big Mac
is somehow symbolic of food.
Morality is legislated
prisons over-populated
religion is incorporated
the profit-motive has permeated all activity
we pay our government to let us park on the street
And war is the biggest money-maker of all
we all know missile envy only comes from being small.
Politicians and prostitutes
are comfortable together
I wonder if they talk about the strange change in the weather.
This government was founded by, of, and for the people
but everybody feels it
like a giant open sore
they don’t represent us anymore
And blaming the President for the country’s woes
is like yelling at a puppet
for the way it sings
Who’s the man behind the curtain pulling the strings?
A billion people sitting watching their TV
in the room that they call living
but as for me
I see living as loving
and since there is no loving room
I sit on the grass under a tree
dreaming of the way things used to be
Pre-Industrial Revolution
which of course is before the rivers and oceans,
and skies were polluted
before Parkinson’s, and mad cows
and all the convoluted cacophony of bad ideas
like skyscrapers, and tree paper, and earth rapers
like Monsanto and Dupont had their way
as they continue to today.
This was Pre-us
back when the buffalo roamed
and the Indian’s home
was the forest, and God was nature
and heaven was here and now
Can you imagine clean water, food, and air
living in community with animals and people who care?
Do you dare to feel responsible for every dollar you lay down
are you going to make the rich man richer
or are you going to stand your ground
You say you want a revolution
a communal evolution
to be a part of the solution
maybe I’ll be seeing you around.

—Woody Harrelson

Olympic Legacy

I used to love the Olympic  Games. Me and my dad, we loved watching the events together and cheering on the Brits . But the more I learn about the truth behind the glossy Olympic veneer, the more disillusioned I become.

We’re told that the Games leave a great legacy for the host country – that the economy will greatly benefit, that tourism will soar, that employment, investment and regeneration will thrive.  They convince us that the Games will encourage the whole nation to get active and that suddenly everyone will be transformed into healthy, keep-fit fanatics.  They sell us the idea of superb sporting facilities –  swimming pools, tennis courts and such-like that will be available for everyone to utilise post-Olympic games.

Well there is another line of thinking which argues that the golden Olympic legacies are mostly mythical, that there is a more sinister side to the Olympic movement and that beyond the hype, real lives are detrimentally and irreversibly affected.

Well let’s take a wee look:

Planning displacement/Forced evictions. How many people do you think were displaced in Beijing to make way for the games?  This report says it’s 1.5 million.  And this website goes into more detail.

Atlanta 96- what went on there?  Amongst other stuff, housing rights violations and – get this – the criminalisation of the poor and the homeless, many of whom were detained without trial for the duration of the games so they wouldn’t be an embarrassment.

London 2012 – how many evictions have taken place so far in London alone due to the building works?  What about the allotments that have been forecably taken to make way for the games?  The businesses that have lost their sites.  And the social housing estate, Clays Lane, that became subject to a compulsory purchase order, against the wishes of the tenants, to build the athlete’s village.

Ethics. London 2012 is so ethical that it’s own ethics chief resigned because of its connections, via Dow Chemicals, with the 1984 Bhopal disaster that killed thousands of its citizens.  When you consider just who the leading corporate sponsors are it’s hard not to be cynical . . .  BP, the aforementioned Dow Chemicals, Rio Tinto . . .  a trio of polluting multinationals with dire environmental records as official sponsors of the “greenest games ever”? Give me a break!

Democratic rights. Be in no doubt, preemptive arrests are very much on the cards at these London games for peaceful protesters.  Just wait and watch our PM trample on our civil liberties, empowering the police to make sweeping arrests before objectors even begin their peaceful protests at the games.  You’ll have to look hard though because it won’t be widely reported.

There’s more.

The Food. McDonald’s (hiss, spit), official partner of the games, have pledged to use only British chickens but what about the beef and the fish? And in any case, come on!  McDonald’s! The unhealthiest food in the world being ‘officially’ supplied at a major, global sports event!  Someone had a sarcastic sense of humour there.

The environmental impact.  The London games are supposed to be the greenest ever.  UK officialdom wants the London games to be an environmental showcase and wants us to believe that the environment won’t be touched at all by these games but nobody can tell me that there has been no major environmental impact.  It’s not possible.  I can’t even be bothered going into detail.  I’ve gone on enough and I’d be stating the bleeding obvious anyway.

To sum up, basically, they’ve sold us a tale of turning the nation into health and fitness fanatics but does anyone really believe that people will get off their backsides en masse and get jogging because they been so inspired by nine-minute sprinters or record-holding marathon runners?  No, we will all watch the games from the comfort of our lounges (or if we’re lucky, from a seat in the stadium) and then we’ll forget about it!  And I’m sure all those super-duper sports facilities that they say the citizens will inherit really will be fantastic – if you can afford the membership fees!

Sure, there will be economic benefits but they will be short-term and there’s little evidence to say that these benefits actually reach those most in need and much historical evidence to say that existing entrepreneurial types and wealthy stakeholders usually reap the most of the rewards.  They say that tourism will benefit and yes, if the games were to be held in Backendofnowhere I’m sure that many ordinary citizens would greatly benefit from increased tourism (or perhaps not depending on your view but you get the point).  But the games are always held in major cities, eg, London.  Tourism is London’s biggest industry and it’s booming, so where will the added value come from?  It’s so small, it’s more likely to cause greater pressure and utter turmoil.

The misrepresentation, the myths, the corporate spin, the total greenwash. Folks, the social and environmental impacts of the games are considerable.  The Olympic legacy is not all rosy but is in fact, pretty much all fallacy.  It certainly does not result in all-round sustainable urban facelifts or jobs for life or booming economies.

So, whose boycotting the games then?

Tree People – we need you now!

It seems that our unmandated government really has it in for our forests.  They have thus-far failed to slip through a bill that would allow them to sell our woodlands to private firms who would subsequently turn them into a profit-making  commodity.  So now they’re going to revise planning laws making it easier for developers to, well, develop on them.

If we are to believe our government (snigger), these proposed new planning policies will have no impact on our green and pleasant land but their promises will soon be put to the test according this article in today’s Guardian. The writer tells us that Oaken Wood in Kent is potentially at risk due to an application for a quarry extension and this highlights some serious concerns.  From the article:

At stake, under a single application for the extension of an existing quarry, is 32 hectares of ancient woodland, home to rare lady orchids, firecrests and nightingales. Under pressure from conservation groups including the Woodland Trust, and thanks to the efforts of local campaigners, Eric Pickles, local government secretary, called in the controversial application in July last year. It is scheduled to go to public inquiry in November. . . .

. . . . Today, ancient woodland covers just 2.7% of England and is home to more wildlife of conservation concern than any other terrestrial habitat. These woods are irreplaceable and require protection.

For goodness sake folks, you heard him! We don’t have much ancient woodland left in England and when it’s gone, it’s gone! Our woodlands are important on so many levels it’s hard to know where to start but to paraphrase Earl Attlee when asked what plans they had to improve ancient woodland protection in the final version of the National Planning Policy Framework, he said it’s not possible to put an economic value on ancient woodland because it is irreplaceable.

It all takes me back to a time, many moons ago, when I camped out in a beautiful ancient woodland with a bunch of tree-hugging eco-warriors in an effort to stop it from being bulldozed to make way for the M65.  Well, I say camped-out . . . taking food, drinks and blankets each day to the protesters and generally playing a supportive role would be closer to the truth but hey, I was there with the likes of  Swampy, suitably clad in wellies, camouflage trousers and an attitude.

The protesters weren’t all stereotypical tree huggers with dreadlocks and doc-martens but they became known by the locals (who mostly supported them it has to be said) as the Tree People. And these guys were fantastic.  They were radical and inventive and totally committed.  They’d lived in those self-built tree-houses for months and they were determined not to give way.  The stakes were high and their determination was downright heroic. They constructed a woodland network of ropes and tree-top walkways so that they were all connected making it very difficult for the axe-men to chop even one tree down without risking the life of a protester.  As non-violent resisters they suffered many injuries at the hands of the burly security men but they never gave up.  At one point militant-me had a very heated debate with the sheriff of somewhere-or-other (probably not Nottingham) but, being  the mardy-pants that I am, I backed off when two large, grumpy-looking policemen started to walk towards me with intent.  Yep, I was passionately proactive and I really believed in the cause but those coppers looked big and mean and there’d already been several arrests.

Anyhoo, needless to say, we were unsuccessful in our efforts. The inevitable forced eviction took place and those yellow-hats stood smugly by as the activists were dragged ruthlessly from the their tree-houses.  Subsequently, and very sadly, the beautiful woodland, where deer used to roam and wildflowers grew freely, was razed to the ground. And now a dirty, great big concrete motorway sits in its place.

I might have turned into little more than a keyboard warrior since then but I’ll tell you this folks – if our few remaining woodlands are put under serious threat of demolition because of these proposals, I WILL GET OFF MY LAZY ARSE!  I will reclaim my activism mojo!  I will tie myself to a tree and I won’t budge until those bloody useless, self-serving, arrogant set of nobs in government do something positive and permanent to protect our magnificent and vitally, vitally important woodlands.

I kid you not.

Of food and the inaccessibility thereof

Deporting Rania

I just stumbled upon an appalling piece of news.  The Home Office wants to deport  a severely disabled five-year old girl.

Brief background . . . she is half-blind, has epilepsy and quadraplegic cerebral palsy.  She came to the UK from Algeria on a six-month visa to give her mother a break and seek treatment for her condition but because of the seriousness of her condition, she was allowed to extend her stay in order to receive further treatment.  She has been staying with her aunt and uncle who apparently want to adopt her.  Now I don’t know the circumstances regarding her birth parents but I do know there is still a lot of stigma attached to epilepsy in Algeria so although we can all speculate, t’is sufficeth to say, mothers will do anything to protect their child.

The little girl is doing really well in our compassionate country and we should be proud of that.  She has overcome many difficulties and is responding well to treatment.  And she is attending mainstream school which is remarkable in itself.  Her family here are dedicated to her but if she is sent back to her home country, there is a very real possibility that she will not survive.

I know the morally-challenged hard-faces at the Daily Fail and readers thereof will be sneering and accusing her family of nothing more than trying to get free NHS treatment but even if that’s true, so what?  So bloody what?  Again, what loving parent wouldn’t move mountains to improve the quality of their child’s life?

Basically, not only is the poor girl fighting a life-threatening condition but she is now facing deportation to a country that a) doesn’t have the means to treat her condition and b)  still widely believes that epileptic fits are caused by demonic possession.

Deporting this child would be cruel and shameful.  And the stupidly frustrating thing is, it’s just not necessary.  Please sign the petition here and urge the dreadful Theresa May to reconsider her ruthless decision to deport little Rania.

No-one is Illegal

Sack Andrew Lansley

Seriously, seriously!  Why is this guy still here?  His manic NHS mission has been nothing short of shambolic from the very start.  But then, Cameron – the man in a position to sack him – has stubbornly supported his reckless scalpel-wielding all along so he needs to be punished too.

Really folks, he so badly shouldn’t be here now.  He has failed on many levels and the bill hasn’t even gone through yet!  The scale of opposition to this remarkably ideological Health and Social Care Bill is vast yet Lansley and Cameron, in their isolated world of privatisation and non-accountability, continue to arrogantly bulldoze their way through while pretending to listen to the health care experts who are screaming WOAH! at every hurdle.

It’s actually really bad.

But, let me pause for a minute . . . we’re not stupid.  We can see what they’re doing.  I see health care workers on all levels growing more alarmed and I’m confident that these reckless plans will crumble.  Even David Cameron’s spinning skills won’t be able to salvage this bill.

Thing is, the very fact that they pursued this crazy dream of bulldozing the NHS and turning it into a profiteering machine for themselves and their buddies in the first place shows just how inept, uncaring, arrogant, and totally profit-centred these Tory boys are . . .  so we need to stay vigilant.

If we want to see health justice, Lansley, having lost all credibility, must be sacked, the current bill must be scrapped . . .  and Cameron must be slapped across the face, repeatedly, with a soggy dressing that has just been removed from a chronic leg ulceration.  (I have contacts in that department).

Seriously folks, for the sake of the nations health (and my mental health), please let me wake up tomorrow to the news that Andrew Lansley has been fired.

This and that and rather a lot more

It’s increasingly challenging for me to find the time to blog these days so it’s frustrating to say the least when there’s just so much to blog about.  For instance, George Monbiot’s nuclear-powered, shot0gun-held-to-his-head U-turn on nuclear power.  Well he must have had a shot-gun held to his head when he wrote this.  Either that or his body was taken over and possessed by an evil force from the nuclear industry.  I mean how else do you explain such an aggressive change-of-heart from someone who spent most of their life campaigning against nuclear power.  He appears to have based his newly-found affection for nuclear energy on the fact that Fukushima was hit by an earthquake and a tidal wave and didn’t cause a global catastrophe.  Oh!  He plays down his pre-Fukushima stance by describing his then views as nuclear-neutral.  Well that’s a load of tripe!  He was never nuclear-neutral.  He was blatantly anti-nuclear.  Here’s what he said a few years ago…

“…nuclear power spreads radioactive pollution, presents a target for terrorists and leaves us with waste that no government wants to handle.”

There’s loads more where that came from.  Hmph!  Bloody turn-coat.

And what about this quiet little item?  A new EU directive comes into play soon which will give more power to Big Pharma.  More power! I hear you exclaim.  I know!  Anyway, this new directive sounds ok at first glance. Indeed, but there are implications.  A EU-wide ban will be in place in a few months but from the 1st of May, hundreds of herbal remedies that have been used in the UK for decades will no longer be available to people who have been benefiting from their properties.  This of course may result in people trying to get hold of them via the Internet thus making the control of such remedies impossible . . . and there’s also the added risk that some of these Internet-acquired products will be of a much poorer quality.  It’s a big win for the pharmaceutical profiteers but let me just ask the politicians who’ve made this decision (I suspect muchly due to some sneaky hand-shaking and bribery from the drug companies) a question . . . What do you think people were doing to relieve their illnesses hundreds and hundreds of years ago?  And actually, an important thing to consider is that many herbal medicines are taken by healthy people in order to try and prevent illness.  And we all know the saying about prevention and cure.  But there’s no profit in healthy people is there.  Avaaz have a petition up here.

They’d better keep their hands off my herbal tea!!

Is there room to squeeze in a little personal message to David Cameron?  Yes?  Ooh goodie. . . .

David, do be quiet dear.  Do try to stop being such a condescending twit.  I know it’s hard to keep up the facade of nice, popular man-of-the-people but please try harder to hide your real chauvinistic, homophobic character.  We know you were only trying to be funny and clever and that, but you’re not funny and clever.  You’re witless and boring so do hush up.  Oh and David dear, please try to keep that arrogant, snot-faced, creepy little chancellor of yours under control.  His sneering, giggly, immature face is really making me want to vomit bucket-loads each and every time I see it.  Thank you dear.

Speaking of the patronising Cameron, I’m taking bets on how long after the Royal wedding will it be before Shallow Cam starts using the happiness of the event to spin his ideological visions for Britain.

And to finish, I’ll pop up a picture or two, just to keep the place alive, barely, but alive just the same.  Oh and I’ve sneaked a little video in at the end – a party political broadcast of the Green variety.  Go on – vote for the Green party.  You know you want to.

My middlie taking part in the May Pole dancing for St. George’s day.  So there, BNP.  You can stop spreading the myth that celebrating Englishness is being outlawed.

Bolton Abbey Priory.  I took that picture with my broken little Nikon Coolpix L22.  Impressed?  I am.

ALUNA

It’s getting to be that every time  I switch on the news, I’m closer to believing the Mayan 2012 prediction.  We appear to have seriously evoked the wrath of the gods and it’s all starting to feel a bit doomsday. Of course I don’t really believe all that.  I mean I’ve lost count of all the Armageddons that have been prophesied thus far but there’s no denying that the news is grim and while I say I don’t believe in prophecy, I do feel strongly that, as the masters of our own destruction, it’s not really that hard to predict some of the things that may happen.  I was thus intrigued when I read about the Kogi, a lost civilisation living in the mountains close to the Colombian/Carribean coast who live in harmony with nature and believe we are heading for a disaster of our own making and, as natural guardians of Mother Earth, they are making a (second) movie to tell us how we can still prevent it.

[Thanks Ecomonkey]

From the movie website:

The People

The Kogi are the last surviving civilization from the world of the Inca and Aztec, and their cities are untouched by our world. The mountain they inhabit is an isolated triangular pyramid rising over 18,000 feet from the sea, the highest coastal mountain on earth. It is on a separate tectonic plate from the Andes, and its unique structure means that it is virtually a miniature version of the planet, with all the world’s climates represented. The mountain is quite literally a micro-cosmos, a mirror of the planet on which every ecological zone is represented and in which most of the plants and animals of the planet can find homes.

The Message

The Kogi are profoundly frightened by what we are doing to the world, but also well aware that we have no understanding of the forces which we are unleashing. They believe that the only hope of survival for mankind is if we can learn why they are so scared, and they know that we will only believe what we can see.

The Movie

The Kogi say that without thought, nothing could exist. This is a problem, because we are not just plundering the world, we are dumbing it down, destroying both the physical structure and the thought underpinning existence. The Kogi believe that they live in order to care for the world and keep its natural order functioning, but they recognized some years ago that this task was being made impossible by our mining and deforestation. In 1990 they emerged to work with Alan Ereira, making a 90-minute film for BBC1 in which they dramatically warned of our need to change course. Then they withdrew again.

But now the Kogi have summoned Alan Ereira back to say that we did not actually listen to what they said. We are incapable of being changed by being spoken to. They now understand that we learn through our eyes, not our ears. In the face of the approaching apocalypse, they have asked Ereira to make a film with them which will take the audience on a perilous journey into the mysteries of their sacred places to change our understanding of reality.

This is not a work of fiction. ARE YOU READY TO BE CHANGED?

http://vimeo.com/20644411

Arts cuts, police cuts, nursing, crime and tangents . .

Isn’t it strange how the news regarding police cuts doesn’t seem to get the left as animated as they get towards other cuts.  I know the police have not won many public hearts lately due to their public displays of aggression and intimidation at recent protest rallies and suchlike – and quite right too.  We’ve seen some appalling police behaviour and the lack of accountability is downright criminal but I guess they’re not all our enemy.  Just as there are good and bad nurses and good and bad teachers, the same surely applies to the police.

I had three police officers at my house this morning.  Two officers came and went followed by a crime scene investigator.  They were here, in short, because my eldest daughter’s car was broken into.  The poor girl has only had the car for one week.  She was chuffed to bits about it.  What with the sky-scrapingly high insurance costs for new, young drivers, she thought she would never be able to afford a car.  But to her credit,  she somehow made it happen.  She chose the smallest, cheapest, cutest little car available – one with low economical running costs and not so harsh on the environment.

Being a student nurse,  she receives a little bursary each month which just about pays for said car.  But crucially, being a student nurse, she has to go on placements far and wide and at all times of the day and night so a car is really quite essential.  I was very tempted, incidentally, to talk her out of nursing.  She was all set up for university.  Had a guaranteed place at Liverpool and everything.  She couldn’t wait to start.  Why she changed her mind, I’ll never know.  And why she chose to go into nursing befuddles me even more but I suspect her boyfriend, and the reluctance to leave him, had something to with the decision. Ho hum.

Anyway (tangents dear girl, tangents), her shiny, new little car was violated right outside our house the other night and she was gutted.  The perpetrator just popped the lock right out of the door.  Nothing was taken because there was nothing to take.  The police officer said he was probably looking for spare change or hoping to find an ipod because the car came with an ipod thingy where you can plug in your ipod and listen to your playlist.

The first two officers who attended were very nice and helpful.  They showed care and concern towards my daughter and were very attentive.  After they’d completed their bit they left and told me a crime scene investigator would come along later to take fingerprints and stuff.  They asked my daughter if she would need to use the car today and she said yes – she had to go into uni at 12 o clock so they said they’d try to get the forensic guy to come before then.  I didn’t expect this to happen but lo and behold, the lovely lady turned up at about 10.30 with her little black bag of forensics tools.  I was impressed.  She too was very caring and concerned but she couldn’t do any dusting on the car door because it was raining.

I had been listening to the news all morning and there was much talk about the police cuts and cuts to the Arts.  Objections to the Arts cuts, by the way, are easy to dismiss but I don’t mind admitting that I object to these cuts almost as much as other cuts, not least because Art enriches all our lives but more importantly,  there will be many-a knock-on effect by way of employment, education and suchlike and will result in only the well-off being able to afford to study an Arts degree or pursue a particular ‘Arts’ talent.  And youth theatre groups, sports groups . . . what about all those youngsters who are committing time and energy to something fulfilling that they enjoy . . . something that helps to keep them fit and healthy.  We already know that too many unfit teenagers spend their time hanging around streets with nothing to do and nowhere to go.  Tell me what’s beneficial about taking away their facilities when those things give them a focus, where they can learn about commitment, self-respect and teamwork.  The Arts have the power to transform and vastly improve lives.  I’ve seen it working.  Dance teachers are creating community dance-groups everywhere.  It’s classless, genderless and available across the scale.  The kids who attend such groups are growing daily in self-esteem and self-confidence.  And they’re active for god’s sake!  Off the streets.  Not being thugs!  Not being a nuisance!  Not committing crimes!  Isn’t that the goal?  You need look no further than the absolutely fantastic Dance United to realise just how effective and empowering such groups can be.

Basically, Arts funding is there to provide equal opportunities for everybody to have their lives enriched and improved. The Arts cuts are regressive and will make Art and Culture elite and inaccessible to all but a privileged few.   Osborne’s few.

Anyway, where was I? (More tangents.  Focus girl!) My police experience, although brought about by a nasty and annoying crime, was an altogether positive one but it got me thinking about the cuts and how it might affect the three nice officers who dealt with our case.  I don’t know anything about the structure of police forces.  I know that like nurses, doctors, paramedics etc. police officers take a lot of crap from the public.  They deal with aggressive and abusive people on an almost daily basis and are always the first in line for a bashing and being blamed for everyone’s problems.  I do stand by my belief that a lot of officers join the police force for the wrong reasons (ie: power, means to bully etc) but generally speaking, I like to think that, like nurses, teachers etc., most of them are decent with a genuine desire to help others and like most of us, they face worrying times and insecurities.

There’s more to a police force than the images we see of police thuggery on our TV screens and the government’s promises not to cut front line jobs is meaningless given that front-liners depend on non-front-line staff to do their jobs properly so no matter how they spin it, the cuts will detrimentally affect the police and how they protect the public and no matter how bitter the relationship between activist and policeman is, it’s surely in our interest to support them at this time.

Gosh!  It’s all or or nothing with me.

On hating George Osborne

“No attempt at ethical or social seduction can eradicate from my heart a deep burning hatred for the Tory Party. So far as I am concerned they are lower than vermin.” Aneurin Bevan

Did you know that if you google the words I hate George Osborne you get 612,000 results.

I try not to give in to the hate emotion.  I really do.  My mother always encouraged us not to use the word hate when referring to someone we don’t like but it’s not always easy to control those feelings when one takes an extreme disliking to someone.  The old emotions tend to take over the logical, calm side and its not usually a pretty sight.  And dammit, that bloody detestable fella George Osborne has gone and forced me to disrespect my dear mum’s sagely advice by making me hate him with a passion.  A fiery, burning passion.  I hate the Tories collectively but I’m feeling a dark urge to specifically target old Gideon.

There’s even a Facebook page called I hate George Osborne and I really don’t know what’s stopping me from joining.  Dignity probably.  I mean when I’ve done with the hate rant that I’m about to embark upon, I’ll need to salvage any dignity remaining and joining such a Facebook group would only make me feel even more sullied. Kind of like how I feel when I read Melanie PhillPots blog or accidentally tune in to the Jeremy Kyle Show.

So why do I hate him?

Lordy, where do I start?

It’s not just his lamentable and downright spiteful budget or the callous cuts that make me detest this vile person.  It’s the smug, uncaring and grossly arrogant demeanor of the man.  He sneers at people folks.  It’s not an unfortunate act of nature that makes his facial features appear to look sneery.  He really does willfully sneer.  And remember when he poked fun at Nicholas Sarkozy for being short.  Now I’m no admirer of Sarkozy, far from it, but for a politician who should be displaying a mature and responsible public face to make fun of a person’s  physical appearance is a personal and really rather shallow thing.  Not funny at all. Gideon thought it was though.  You can see the egotistical twerp laughing hysterically at his own joke here.  Don’t watch it.  You will cringe. He’s also got away with ageist slurs against Dennis Skinner and homophobic jibes against Chris Bryant – letting slip the true bigoted colours of the Tory boys.

And there’s even more to hate.  It’s not just the deliberate targeting of the poor and the squeezed middle.  It’s the unethical pro-wealthy, right-wing ideology that drives him.  It’s the grim fact that he really does aspire to keeping the poor in their place while preserving the luxuriously elite status of a small group of wealthy people.  It’s his blatant generosity towards big business in the face of those at risk of losing their jobs/homes/benefits.  It’s the stealthy tearing away of workers rights and family-friendly flexible choices so that employers can use people as they wish and pay them rock-bottom wages.

In a nutshell, it’s the fact that he is stubbornly pursuing this Tory ideology of a Thatcher magnitude without ever having won a true mandate.  I really believe he is actually enjoying inflicting this pain.  I hope to goodness the karma gods are paying attention.

I must now go into a dark room and chant a mantra or two, before the hatred consumes me completely.

The Idiot Cycle. Cancer and the Chemical Industry

A new film has been brought to my attention.  It’s called The Idiot Cycle and two free  screenings are being held in York and Cambridge to coincide with World Cancer Day.

From what I can see, the film tells some pretty disturbing facts about cancer and the chemical industry.  Cancer is a very profitable disease and sinisterly most of the large chemical companies also have huge business involvements in cancer treatments.  I’m pretty sure it’s not because they care.  When the chemical industry produces phenomenal amounts of carcinogenic pollutants and then profits from drugs used to treat cancers it’s hard not to be cynical.  In fact it’s glaringly obvious that yet again big industry is not only profiting from misery but is most probably helping to cause the misery in order to profit from it.

It has now been scientifically demonstrated that there is indeed a link between chemical products and the appearance of diseases, such as cancers, infertility, degenerative diseases of the central nervous system and allergies.CPME – Standing Committee of European Doctors, 2005

There is little direct evidence of widespread ill health or ecosystem damage by the use of man-made chemicals. Alan Perroy, Director General of the European Chemical Industry Council, in a 2001 letter to European Members of Parliament.

Medical experts can see the link between chemicals and cancer but proving it means taking on the legal might of the industry giants so this film will hopefully expose some of the things that the industry would rather you didn’t know.

Easy Meat

Jack Straw thinks that some Pakistani Muslim men see white women as easy meat.  He’s right of course.  I’m in no doubt that some Pakistani men see white women as easy meat but it’s not an exclusive club.  Far from it.  Vulnerable girls all over the world are easy meat to a proportion of men all over the world.  You don’t have to be a white girl to be easy meat and you don’t have to be a Pakistani Muslim to exploit vulnerable girls.

It’s a delicate issue because of the risk of offending the ethnic communities and accusations of racism but there are claims that it’s predominantly Asian men from ethnic minority groups (not just Pakistani’s) that are actively grooming vulnerable white girls.  Well if there is hard evidence to say that grooming and organised abuse by a particular group is a problem then we need honesty.  We need to acknowledge the problem and it should be investigated to the end but equally, to make sweeping generalisations without definite proof will make the authorities involved focus on that one particular group which could lead to them missing abuse in other areas.

I know it’s a dilemma.  Of course we really don’t want to see the likes of the BNP capitalising on these reports but what could be worse than having investigations into serious crimes against vulnerable girls – children actually – being inhibited or covered-up for fear of offending communities or fuelling the far-right groups?

Like I said, if there’s evidence to suggest the predators are predominantly Asian then the Asian community has a duty to look within itself.  Turning a blind eye is a crime in itself.  We demanded accountability from the Roman Catholic church regarding the child sex scandals and if the Muslim communities are protecting their members in full knowledge of what’s going on then we should be making the same demands on them.

I suppose the best thing is to make these vulnerable young girls aware of the dangers and educate them on the tactics that these predators use to lure them in.  And even if the evidence is strong that Asian males are the main abusers, the focus shouldn’t be on them exclusively because the risk then would be that the girls would drop their defences against young white males who could potentially be just as dangerous.

These vulnerable kids don’t care what ethnic background their abusers come from.  They just need protecting from despicable sexual predators and if the police are reluctant to respond to allegations for fear of damaging race relations, then there is something very wrong going on.

The Work of the Devil – a quick, random, bullet-pointy post

• I don’t think anyone has made me want to throw up more than work-of-the-devil David Cameron and I’m thinking particularly about when he was talking to the BBC today from China about the naughty students and the extremely brave police officers at Millbank during the student protests.  Gawd, he is an unbelievably patronising git.  As for that violence caused by a minority, as overblown as it is, the question has been raised – has this ignited a wider public backlash against the cuts in general.  Who knows?  But hey, who said students and young people were politically apathetic?
• It”s no secret that I am a nervy, jittery person and it doesn’t take much to make me all jumpy.  Well the damned wind outside is proper spooking me out folks.  The letter-box keeps rattling, my lounge door keeps blowing open and, in spite of the double-glazed windows, the silver metal blinds in my boy’s bedroom are blowing right out.  It’s the work of the devil I tells ya.
• Those memoirs.  There’s no way I will be reading George Bush’s feel-good book-of-love but I did just finish a book called The Help which was utterly unputdownable and highly recommended.  I won’t say too much about it except to quote this line . . . Jackson, Mississippi 1962 – black maids raise white children but aren’t trusted not to steal the family silver.  As for that other book – the work of the devil (probably literally!), like I said, I won’t be reading it – remember, I’m easily spooked, but I have read the news and I’m well aware of what he said about torture in the form of water-boarding having saved British lives but he fails to mention that his torture policies, hell, all of his policies, have put people in more danger than ever.  Clearly there’s no limit to the man’s stupidity and inhumanity but enough about him.  I won’t sleep tonight as it is.
• I don’t get the The Labour party.  What are they playing at rebelling against the expulsion of Phil Woolas and his anti-immigrant rhetoric?  We know they’re not doing it out of concern for Parliamentary sovereignty.  They’re dividing themselves again.  Are they trying to lose the next election?  Woolas played the race card and lost.  He pandered to the Daily Mailers and we all know that the Daily Mail is the work of the devil.  Harriet Harman was bang on when she gave him the boot.
• Magnums are utterly yummy.  And probably the work of the devil.

Of spooky days out and broken pinky fingers

Me laddie has been put out of action for a few weeks due to breaking his little finger in two places during a rugby training session.  He had to have surgery to manipulate it back into place.  The orthopaedic registrar informed us that surgery was necessary because the breaks were on growth plates and his finger would not grow properly without the surgery.  They even kept him in overnight and I got to sleep on a chair bed right next to him.  All very dramatic for the sake of a broken pinky finger but we were looked after  very well.  Yep, I experienced for myself the greatness of the NHS, but despite the pledges and the ring-fencing, be in little doubt that the cold, hard hands of Cameron and Giddy-boy will soon be felt around the neck of our beloved NHS.  It’s already happening folks.

Anyway, me laddie . . . the poor boy is gutted.  He can’t play rugby for another four to six weeks and to rub the salt well and truly in, after waiting nervously for weeks for his teacher to make the team announcements, he just got chosen for the the school’s football team and hasn’t been able to play a single game for them yet.  He was chosen to play goalkeeper, the position that everyone usually dreads but I think they gave him that position on account of his catching skills.  Well, probably more likely because, having played rugby most of his life, he kept trying to catch the ball instead of kick it.  He doesn’t mind being goalie though.  Loitering idly whilst picking paint off the posts and wondering what’s for tea suits him splendidly.

Anyhoo, well and truly out of action is where we are right now and even cycling is out of bounds so we’ve been going on lots of walks – just so his stamina and fitness levels don’t walk away altogether never to be found again.

Yesterday we went to Bolton Abbey and to my delight, there were lot’s of Halloweeny things going on which included a pumpkin trail.  My boy, having turned eleven just last week, was a bit disgusted at such childish nonsense but I have a sneaky feeling that his buddy who came along with us unintentionally induced much of that disgust.  So, not one to miss out on anything, I took part myself and just as I thought, it wasn’t long before they were both butting in and shouting out with unreserved excitment whenever they spotted a pumpkin or a witch.  Even the hubby was caught up in it all.  T’was jolly good Halloween stuff.

I even managed to take some pictures of the beautiful Autumn day so, for your Autumnal pleasure . . .