News From The Nutters: The Fantasy World Of Ian Bone And His Hobby Political Party Class War
In Friday’s local elections in England, Ian Bone’s Class War (which is essentially his party as much as Captain Rainbow’s Universal Party was George Weiss’) told the Twitterwebs about the forthcoming breakaway by the huddled masses of North Kensington to strike a blow against their cruel oppressors in the south and declare independence.
Pity no one told them. If they had, they were suffering from Chronic Empathetical Constipation (i.e. no one cared a shit).
It’s like the sort of unfunny offal joke party candidates come up with, declaring themselves Earl Of Tyneham or saying they’ll make wherever they’re standing for tax-free by making it part of the internet micronation the Kingdom Of Lovely. The sort he’d have been the first to sneer at back in the 80s and 90s when they still took him seriously.
Look children, they’ve even included the North Korean star in their banner – hey Gramps, you’re a real edgelord, throwing the shade. Now sit down before you wet yourself with excitement again.
Bone appears to be a man searching perpetually for some sort of reason to exist, and what he’s convinced himself in spite of all evidence to the contrary is that he is a man of destiny – the only trouble is not having a clue what that destiny is, and ignoring all evidence pointing to ‘laughing stock.’
He was in Cambridge last year on the behalf of the proletariat, did zero, yet still bragged on the web about how he’d come up from London to show all those poncy students what the working class is all about.
Of course you did dear, now run along and play.
The pretext this time was an inventive protest at the lack of affordable anything housing within the Cambridge environs where some enterprising students graffitied some hideous to look at and hideously expensive new housing. Bone promised to show solidarity with the oppressed masses, without realising it was students who were doing the protesting – the clue was in the graffiti, done in Latin.
Bone’s never forgiven Cambridge after a visit six years ago was lampooned by the student newspaper The Tab, where much the same scenario played out – he and his equally aged mates arrived with an attitude of ‘you’re all snobby, drink champagne, ride polo ponies to lectures and get your butlers to do your essays’, and was laughed right out of town for the arseturnips they were.
This didn’t stop Bone and his sycophants (who all think this aged loser is ‘proper naughty’ right down to his mockney accent, so bad Damon Albarn would be embarrassed for him) hailing it as some sort of major blow for the working classes. The ridiculous Karen the Thurrock Heckler even tried to present their debacle as a revolutionary triumph.
‘From the heart of Cambridge … onto Midsummer Common for the rally … the rowers assembled on the balcony spied us coming and all of them slunk away inside where they could be out of earshot of our taunts and heckling. … when confronted with any form of opposition to their privilege, simply haven’t got the bottle to even listen to a few verbal jibes. There were only twenty of us and we had that impact… Then it was time for some liquid refreshment in a riverside pub – taking it right onto their turf also means drinking in their pubs… to show we have the nerve to take it onto what is to all intents and purposes, enemy turf.’
Some hormonal teenager with a litre bottle of industrial cider and energy drinks would have achieved as much, if not more.
Perhaps this is what these sad attention whores’ barking behaviour is really about, the mid-life crises of those realising they threw away their youth and have nothing to show for it in a world that’s passed them long by. Even more galling, some upstart called Jeremy Corbyn has shown what they could have become if they’d been smart enough to not only keep up with the times but bide their time.
Oh, Ian! One could almost weep for you.
From Saturday 18th November last year.
Anyone using the phrase ‘absolute boy’ deserves having a clothes horse shoved up their arse.
Today:
Oh dear Thomas, that didn’t work out as well as you expected, did it?
UKIP also unseated the longest serving Derby City councillor of thirty years – also Labour – giving them three council seats all bordering each other, and all in a town Jeremy Corbyn visited twice before election day.
Trust the Kippers to produce the only real shock of the night during one that was meant to be nothing but disaster for them – and without Nigel Farage, Robert Kilroy-Silk or any of their other superstar manqués past or present to guide them.
Like the Social Democratic Party before them, it appears we’re not rid of them that easily.
Okay, anyone with two braincells can see why he did it – the language was beyond evil in places (for those whom have saw copies of the racist tweets all over the place, for those who have not, here’s the evidence from the man himself).
Before anyone else suggests it, he’s not involved in any suspicious groups using racism as kindling to push their own agendas, but a genuine fed up student in a university that’s long had a reputation as a safe haven for white bigots (the south west being very traditionalist Tory country).
But was this the best way to solve it? What ever happened to taking it to the university authorities first?
Arsalan Motavali posted the offending material online first before going to the university authorities in order to force their hand. Job done, yes, but the result is mortifying publicity the University of Exeter can ill afford.
Racism, sexism, bigotry in all shapes and sizes (there’s another one – sizeism) exists in every British university and college – as you would expect when you bring together people from all over the world from different backgrounds. It is also dealt with by every British university and college – contrary to the crap from those whining creeps at The Guardian (where else?).
Name one UK tertiary education establishment which doesn’t have an extensive anti-racism and anti-hate crime policy with an exhaustive list of contacts for students and staff to report incidents or concerns, and those independent bodies to approach if they are unhappy with how the matter is being treated?
Of course you can’t. It is part of their legal duty as an employer and as an education provider to have these in place.
Arsalan Motavali is feeling rather pleased with himself. But these are the consequences of his handiwork:
1. Companies, governments and research establishments are not going to be rushing to offer any paid work for the various departments of the University of Exeter any time soon – which is where they make their money to provide the best facilities they can for students. Who wants it to be known they are getting their work done by bigots?
2. The best students – regardless of skin colour – will avoid it, and those graduating will find it tougher getting work regardless of degree or final award. Who wants to risk employing someone from the ‘racist university’ who might bring the business into disrepute?
3. Arsalan Motavali may find himself with a lot of fair weather friends with their own agendas, who will dump him once he’s run out of limelight.
4. His real friends and others may now think twice about having anything to do with someone happy enough to repost their messages on Twitter. A university is a much harder place to be if you don’t have friends around to confer and confide in – not merely for getting copies of notes from that lecture you missed yesterday.
5. When his turn to graduate comes, who is going to want to employ someone who deals with workplace issues in a manner more befitting an episode of Jeremy Kyle, leaving everyone feeling they’ll be walking on eggshells if he’s within the vicinity?
All which could have been avoided if he had at least tried the proper channels first – not used Twitter to gather a worldwide lynch mob army behind him en route to force his university into doing what he wanted. Even having won, how many will believe they did it because it was the right thing to do and not simply as the path of least resistence? No matter what the University of Exeter does now, they are damned.
Arsalan Motavali is now going to find out the hard way that despite his five minutes of Twitter fame, the world will soon be a smaller place for him than he thinks – because no-one likes a stool pigeon.
Apart from Kid Creole and the Coconuts.
August Darnell was The Mask before Jim Carey was ever invented.
On Thursday there are council elections in England, which reminded me about this – the sheer cheek of this skeet!
‘Thanks to the work of anti-racists’ ? ‘Fought them at every step’ ?
Excuse me, but the evidence is that you did the sum total of bugger all in the case of this ward!
Here’s the election results for the Marsden Ward of Pendle Borough Council from before BNP councillor Brian Parker’s entry and the three elections he fought.
(In 2006, Pendle Borough switched so not all the wards on the council would be up for election at once, hence where two were elected in 2002 but not afterwards).
That’s three times he stood, three times he won, with the Labour Party he took it off never coming close to regaining it (it looks more like the Conservatives were best placed to take it – twelve years earlier they could only get 22.3%) – something no one standing for any openly racist or far-right political party has ever achieved in British electoral history.
Work of anti-racists who fought them at every step? What rubbish!
To make Nick Lowles claims even more absurd, over in Maldon in Essex local business tycoon Richard Perry and the rest of his BNP cronies have been running Heybridge Parish Council for the last two years – something no racist or far-right party has ever achieved (indeed no far-left party or even the Green Party has managed as much).
‘A BNP government will bring back the mullet.’ The one on the left is Richard Perry. The alleged story behind the photo is an anti-fascist activist went to snap BNP members at the above polling station for ‘intelligence purposes’, Perry and the other bloke thought it was a sympathiser so posed with smiles. It gets better – the activist was scolded by his own bosses for ‘screwing up’ – the purpose of snapping far-right members at polling stations is in the hope they lose their tempers and attempt to attack the photographer (fearing their picture will be passed to ‘direct action’ groups). Make of it what you will.
They were criticised for standing as ‘Fighting Unsustainable Housing Because We Care’ (one of the BNP’s slogans) ticket – but this is a common enough tactic at minor council levels by all parties, where many stand as independents or as ‘Progressives’, ‘Rate Payer’, ‘Residents Association’ or other names masking party affiliations because of the convention in some areas (particularly rural) that it is poor form to stand under national party labels at neighbourhood level. Also in safe Conservative or Labour areas, it is regarded as suicidal to stand as the opposite especially during periods when they are highly unpopular.
What? You didn’t know any of that? Another little snippet that didn’t make the national news.
Not because of some plot against the BNP (as they tend to say over and over and over and over again), but because no one outside of town and district newspapers gives a shit about Parish councils. Or Town Councils. Hence why so many Official Monster Raving Loony Party councillors get elected onto them.
(To be fair, at least their councillors last longer than more far-right – or far-left – ones do on them. Once they discover there’s a fair bit of work involved cutting into their precious pub time, they’re often never seen again)
If you have ever watched a Town Meeting episode of Gilmore Girls, they go rather like that – on a good day. On a very good day, they go like this.
But back to Nick Knowles claims. Most factual academic reports say that far from finished the BNP is awash with money from legacies and its tiny membership have the luxury of being able to restart from scratch, rebuilding over as long a period as they please, happy to sit back and allow the remains of Britain’s far-right to destroy one another and leave the field clear (most of whom are elderly and dying off rapidly). They’re also waiting for the collapse of UKIP – the biggest obstacle Britain’s far-right has ever faced, whose twin concentration on anti-EU and immigration issues left the so-called ‘patriotic Right’ with no palatable issue to offer the public of their own.
This is the trouble with anti-racists/anti-fascists – all too often they’re every bit as bad as those they oppose when it comes to exaggerating. When you are meant to be fighting from ‘the moral high ground’, that’s a luxury you cannot afford.
They made huge claims about ‘fighting the fascists’, but apart from shouting at each other and the odd street battle every so often when they’ve had too many shandies, they do little tangible in practice.
There’s even suspicions of both propping the other up when times are hard and the world isn’t paying them both too much attention, but that’s another matter better covered by others. But it is very suspicious the large number of former members of ‘white nationalist’ groups who go on to enjoy lengthy careers as ‘race relations’ campaigners – you know what they say about poachers turned gamekeepers.
The Lancashire Evening Telegraph explained that BNP Councillor Parker had decided not to bother standing for election again due to having to look after his 90 year old mother – but also more telling was his claim ‘After 12 years I feel I have done enough… the workload is getting heavier not lighter.’
In fact, a large number of Welsh seats went uncontested in last year’s elections, with only one candidate
This is a problem throughout the UK as councillors from all parties – not merely those in charge – have to deal with increasing issues which with shrunken council budgets they are in no position to do anything about. Many newer councillors give up and simply quit in despair at the impossibility of their task, and it is certainly no coincidence that Parker has become the latest a year after finding himself the unwitting ‘confidence and supply’ prop for the Labour-LibDem coalition running Pendle Borough Council after one Labour councillor defected to the Conservatives.
Councillor Nawaz Ahmed, representing the Brierfield ward, left in the huff (or was induced to go, depending whose story you believe) because he was not selected for a County Council seat despite being the Borough mayor last year. He’d previous form for political treachery, having defected previously from the LibDems to Labour.
But if Tory leader Joe Cooney thought he was now going to become council leader from now having the biggest party in council, he was swiftly disabused as the existing council leader, Labour’s Mohammed Iqbal, did a deal with the BNP councillor (who always claimed he couldn’t be ‘bought’) to keep the Labour-LibDem coalition in charge (!) – much to the fury of the Tories. The clincher was a promise to redevelop unused ground in Marsden which was a pressing local concern: but needless to say all the electorate in Pendle were scandalised by this turn of events.
All of which goes to show that no matter what the party labels, no matter what the ideology and rhetoric, politics is always politics.
‘Meet the new boss – same as the old boss.’
Most anti-racist/anti-fascist groups are fronts for far-left parties in order to divert funds to keep themselves alive; excuses for violence under the pretence of political activity; or like Nick Lowles (and his former mentor Gerry Gable) self-appointed niche subject ‘experts’ wanting an easy career on the back of the lunatic world of Britain’s far-left and far-right where they are unlikely to be challenged by real analysis by academics or lazy journalist.
Much of their claims bears a lot in common with the crankiness of those following UFOs, ghosts and other para-scientific fields where flights of fancy are less likely to challenged.
Those anti-racism groups – and who is really behind them:
Anti-Nazi League/Unite Against Fascism/Stand Up To Racism: history’s warning for all future such groups. Founded in 1977 ostensibly to counter the growth of the National Front (in reality the NF had suffered a terminal split the year before – most of it’s non-Nazi leaders and a third of the members leaving to become the National Party UK – and what was left could only manage confrontational marches through black and Asian areas which ultimately ended in riots). The ANL tried to physically stop far-right marches (copying Tariq Ali’s International Marxist Group/Socialist League/Socialist Action), ran pop festivals (Rock Against Racism), was sponsored by trade unions and enjoyed cross-party support.
But misgivings emerged over misappropriation of funds and senior leadership of the organisation from branch level upwards being dominated by members of the thuggish Socialist Workers Party (formerly the International Socialists until exposed for orchestrating football hooliganism along with Colin Jordan’s neo-nazi British Movement). The ANL collapsed in March 1979, two months before the general election which saw the NF bankrupt itself, with previously supportive celebrities such as Brian Clough publicly disowning the organisation as an SWP front.
After re-emerging on and off over the years (usually when the SWP needed its coffers boosted), it merged with the remains of the Anti-Racist Alliance/National Assembly Against Racism (whose members it once assaulted as rivals) to form Unite Against Fascism/Stand Up To Racism – still dominated by SWP thugs. It was disowned by the anti-racist/anti-fascist research magazine Searchlight in 2005, and has been criticised for its disturbing links to the Muslim supremicist Islamic Forum in Europe.
Anti-Fascist Action/Red Action: founded in 1985 by those who felt there wasn’t enough being done to physically attack the far-right, which meant not merely marches but even attempting to sell their newspapers or magazines in the street. It later emerged many active members did so out of homoeroticism towards violence rather than any genuine political concerns – which was reciprocated on the far-right and evidence emerged of members of both sides organising battles in order to get their ‘kicks’ (and tough luck if you were an innocent bystander in the wrong place at the wrong time). In 1997 it forbade its members from talking to Searchlight from fear of this facet of their activities being exposed in the light of neo-nazi Nikki Crane’s ‘coming out’ and accusations of collusion between racists and anti-racists.
Searchlight: the premier anti-racist/anti-fascist research magazine for decades, launched in 1975 by the well-meaning Maurice Ludmer, who as a young Jewish communist never got over the shock of visiting Bergen-Belsen nor the blind eye British communists took to racism because they saw racial tensions as speeding the collapse of capitalism. The name was taken from an earlier publication, but Searchlight differed in that it infiltrated far-right groups in order to expose and thwart their plans. Rivalry within the far-right meant Searchlight also gained a lot of tip-offs from the feuding factions looking to harm each other – consequently it enjoyed ironically a large far-right readership, for whom exposure by Searchlight was essential for ‘street-cred’, and failure to be mentioned arose suspicions that someone was a Searchlight ‘mole’.
However after Ludmer’s death it was taken over at length by Gerry Gable, a former Marxist with convictions for violence and attempting to break into the home of Holocaust denier David Irving dressed as a gas man (was this meant to be some sort of sick joke in itself?), who made Searchlight more tabloid and confrontational. It also became more inclined towards Gable’s own personal feuds, such as against Stephen Brady of the National Front who was the ex-boyfriend of Gable’s fourth wife Sonia Hochfelder (who went from the Communist Party of England-Marxist Leninist to the NF and writing articles for The League of St. George). More disturbing was the rumours of hit lists and tip-offs being given to militant anti-fascists in order to ‘stir the pot’ at times when business was slow (Britain’s far-right being more often in a state of terminal decline than rude health).
What finally did for Searchlight’s credibility was the Tim Hepple affair: a former neo-Nazi whose conscience got the better of him they persuaded to go back into the British National Party (then led by founder and veteran Nazi John Tyndall – the single most unpleasant specimen Britain’s far-right has ever known). Between 1991 and 1992 he was working at the BNP’s HQ and a magazine of his time there and dealings with other Nazi groups – ‘At War With Society’ – was supposed to set the far-right back years.
Instead within a few months Derek Beackon became the first far-right candidate to win a contested election (Millwall Isle Of Dogs council seat) and allegations came from another anti-racist/anti-fascist researcher – Larry O’Hara – that Hepple had not only been working for the BNP, but had been involved with Ray Hill (Gerry Gable’s deputy, and another former far-right mole) in agent provocateur activities within the militant green movement, especially concerning the efforts to stop the Twyford Down bypass (See O’Hara’s ‘A Lie Too Far’ and ‘At War With The Truth’).
Accusations flew – not for the first time – Searchlight had sent a mole into the BNP to lick it into shape rather than destroy it in order to keep themselves in jobs (Hepple’s own admittance in ‘At War With Society’ at the disorganisation of the BNP’s administration until he joined was later verified by BNP members during its own internal feud which saw Nick Griffin replace John Tyndall as leader) and moreover was involved in agent provocateur activities within left-wing groups at the behest of MI5 for money.
Searchlight never truly recovered from the distrust other anti-racist campaigners felt towards it thereafter, and it even became estranged from Hope Not Hate in 2011 – a group it had created.
Hope Not Hate: a so-called ‘advocacy group’ started in 2004 by Searchlight to regain its credibility after it had been shot to pieces by the Tim Hepple affair ten years earlier. Like the ANL before it, it enjoys celebrity and trade union backing, but its fixation on UKIP rather than the overly racist BNP simply because UKIP was the biggest right wing party outside of the Conservatives alienated some as counter productive and begging the question whether this was another ‘career campaigner’ group.
It split with Searchlight in 2011 over its stance on Israel, or because Nick Lowles no longer felt he needed the Gables and had an eye for the main chance – the verdict is yours.
On 28th November 2016 it published claims extremists had used 25 000 Twitter accounts to make 50 000 abusive posts celebrating the murder of MP Jo Cox the week before the Brexit referendum. However on 17th December, The Economist magazine ripped the claims to pieces, and accused HnH of deliberating exaggering beyond belief.
There’s no business like showbusiness, except perhaps gossip columnists, media critics and the rest of the parasites whose careers are far more dependent on the citizens of Tinsel Town than the reverse they try to fool themselves is the case.
When a celebrity dies, beyond the crocodile tears from those dependent on their reflected fame, there appears those same vultures circling round the corpse looking for one last free meal off them – or their first one of a new career.
In The Guardian, what a surprise.
Enter Eugene Grant, the latest in a long line of skeets looking to set themselves up as a ‘human rights’ advocate, in this case for dwarfism (which begs the question at once who appointed him to be Big Chief?). In a world where ‘rights’ advocates have grown increasingly more ridiculous as the rewards for getting on the gravy train has exploded, he’s been trying (very…) for years, but has encountered the problem best described as emotional constipation – people couldn’t care a shit.
Timing is everything. A decade of South Park lampooning self-proclaimed ‘oppressed minority’ witchfinder generals (life imitating farce when some tried to campaign for ‘ginger rights’, which to no one’s surprise drew more ire than support) struck a chord with a world weary of civil rights campaigners more interested in setting themselves with overpaid careers in government sanctioned control freakery for life while the lot of those they claim to advocate for seldom changed.
But now Grant he feels he has his moment in the bullshit storm over the premature death of Verne Troyer: the guy best known for those irritating casino adverts and once famous as Mini Me in the dreadful Austin Powers movies from that tedious era anything with a late 60s/early 70s vibe to it qualified as ‘comedy’.
(See also Anchorman – on second thoughts stab yourself with a rusty fork instead, you’re more likely to get a laugh than from watching any of that offal)
Like far too many with successful showbiz careers, Verne Troyer lived life to the excess only an endless money supply will provide, and ultimately caught up with him – not suicide as hinted, but from alcoholism (he’d been hospitalised earlier this month yet again as a result – something since omitted from reports in the rush to canonise him). Depression has been mentioned, but while true depression can lead to drinking, the reverse is also the case.
Grant claims that entertainment stereotyping is a continued bug bear for those of restricted growth, and ‘Loneliness and isolation are not unusual,’ pointing out that ‘over the years, several actors with dwarfism have killed themselves, including David Rappaport and Hervé Villechaize.’
Let’s put the record straight. David Rappaport enjoyed regular varied TV work in the UK before Time Bandits took him to Hollywood and endless opportunities, who not content with attempting to commit suicide two weeks before his wedding, finally did so on his son’s 14th birthday. Despite family commitments, Rappaport was another who partied as hard as he worked, something many put down to his overfondness for endless cups of coffee. We now know of course the effects too much coffee has on a normal human body – the effects on someone of the abnormal size and frame of a dwarf, physical and psychological, would be over double.
As for the famous Hervé Villechaize of The Man With The Golden Gun and ‘Fantasy Island’ fame, he was suffering (as many dwarves do) from long term health problems related to his condition – nothing to do with casting stereotyping. Less well stated was the late Christopher Lee’s autobiography ‘Tall, Dark and Gruesome’ in which the great man mentioned his shock upon learning what a monster his co-star had become since his big break in the James Bond movie (a not uncommon phenomena in Hollywood during the 1970s) – with a string of complaints about sexual harassment and assaulting actresses (which due to his size were not taken seriously) which only ceased upon being fired from ‘Fantasy Island’ when his ego proved more than the producers were willing to put up with.
Yet Eugene Grant persists in not merely lipsticking the pig but adding false eyelashes and mascara, claiming that Austin Powers ‘did huge damage to our struggles not just for positive representations, but for equality and respect more generally.’
Yes, because it’s been a real sucky time to be a dwarf. You know, with that Lord Of The Rings trilogy, that Hobbit trilogy, all those damned dwarves kicking ass to industrial strength. Yes, they were ‘normal’ short actors in the main and a lot of computer effects, but it’s still all a far cry from the days of circuses and ‘Hi ho hi ho!’ In fact, it’s been far, far away for a very long time. In 1979, as well as the greatest animated movie of all time, Watership Down, there was competition from a certain movie called The Tin Drum (and a foreign language film at that!) – the first German language movie to win an Oscar. Let us also not forget that other all time classic The Great Rock ‘n’ Roll Swindle from that year, starring a certain Helen Wellington-Lloyd (who amongst other claims to infamy was the inventor of the Sex Pistols ‘ransom note’ logo), known by her stage name as Helen of Troy.
Peter Dinklage wins two hundred billionth award for awesomeness and tries to look pleased while really thinking ‘where the devil am I going to find the room to store THIS one?’
What makes Eugene Grant’s claims even more absurd to the point of offence is that we are living in an age where one of the top actors is a dwarf – Peter Dinklage, whom since 2011 has acquired a preposterous fifty plus awards nominations for film and TV and is regarded as one of Tinseltown’s ‘must haves’ at casting calls.
This is what happens when you cross Tim Curry with Tony Banks of Genesis.
Before Dinklage, Warwick Davies and his family appeared to crop up in just about every second movie – from the Star Wars and Harry Potter franchises, to even both film series about the Chronicles of Narnia (yes, there has been more than one!) – to the extent he was forced to scale back on his commitments and start his own company Willow Management to deal with the entertainment’s world’s long standing difficulty of being able to acquire enough talented actors, actresses and production crews of abnormal size.
Which brings to mind that Troyer himself enjoyed far more success than the rest of those associated with the Austin Powers franchise which killed the careers of Mike Myers, Seth Green, Elizabeth Hurley and Heather Graham stone dead – and taking over roles which Warwick Davies could no longer cover such as in the Harry Potter franchise. The difference between him and both Dinklage and Davies is the latter two both kept their feet on the ground and never allowed the trappings of fame to come before their families. In that respect, none so different from any other celebrities – regardless of size, sexuality, race or any of the other excuses trotted out for those who failed to treat success and failure with the same distain and were burned by the cut-throat nature of the fame game.
Perhaps Eugene Grant should approach Willow Management and see if they’re taking on more clients seeing that he’s so desperate to get a slice of the fame and fortune action? He’s more chance than he’s got trying to put himself around as some sort of Dr. David Nelson.
Another day in everyone’s favourite liberal socialist castle-in-the-air The Guardian (let’s not mention the redundancies at the start of the year when they chose to shut down their printing facilities and use Trinity Mirror’s instead), where the ground remains covered in snowflakes all year round.
‘He shook up Star Wars as it’s first black stormtrooper.’
Wait? What?
Okay Simon Hattenstone, in your own time, explain to the readers why you know for a fact this was the first black stormtrooper?
There’s perhaps a little problem in your claim. The picture above will help you realise what that is.
A film franchise which employed thousands of extras to be Star Wars stormtrooper cannon fodder shitter at shooting than the Canadian Olympic ice hockey squad.
Finn removing his helmet in The Force Awakens is a great moment in cinema. The persona of Imperial (and now Third Reich Order) Stormtroopers as blank emotionless functionaries of a merciless totalitarian organisation has been an immutable part of world culture.
Other nasty nazi clone baddies have thrown in the ‘good’ one as a tired plot twist (Battlestar Galactica, Dr Who, Harry Potter, every single movie with Nazis or Soviet Russians in it, etc), and the Star Wars universe decision to go down that road could easily have proved another disappointment to match the prequals.
What made it so good, so devastating, was it showed not the callous grunt audiences have been honed to expect, nor even the cliched grim faced, tight lipped introspective look of ‘am I doing the right thing?’ so popular with Hollywood, but a stormtrooper completely distraught with what he has witnessed and been a part of – not because he was black!
When he is immediately told off for removing his helmet without permission while on duty, it begs the question at once whether the part-purpose of the helmet is to hide signs of non-verbal emotion between stormtroopers which could cause discipline to break down when they are expected to carry out atrocities on civilian populations or prisoners.
That’s what makes it such a clever moment – amongst the many clever moments of a fantastic movie beating every other Star Wars movie or spin off ever made hands down.
Nothing to do with race – no matter how much you want it to be, oh great temple of white middle class virtue signallers.
They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.
It says much for adults and what they deem fit for children that Phillip Larkin’s surly prose has been a standard text in British secondary schools for English for longer than anyone cares to remember (despite the embarrassing revelations from his letters he was a misogynist old racist hopelessly addicted to sadistic pornography in the days possession of which merited a jail sentence), yet his most famous and best – ‘This Be The Verse’ (a nod to Robert Louis Stevenson) – remains banned from classrooms thanks to the opening lines of the first and second stanzas.
But it demonstrates equally the double-standard of today’s parents cotton-woolling children against a world they perceive (thanks to a sensationalist media, but equally a society where stupidity is prized and culture is damned) as being out to intoxicate, rape and troll them at every juncture – especially any with a different skin colour (ironically such belief is found to be double in those creatures using tanning salons until their skin goes crispy), yet happy to humiliate them for a moment’s hilarious anecdote to friends and family.
In the internet age, what makes the offence more insidious is it is up for all the world to see – including the child’s own peer group. Including those wishing to do them harm.
Take for example one Vikie Shanks, another of those rendered micro-famous on the ‘sore paw’ media circuit, whose particular interest is the rights of those with one of the many varieties of Autism which appear to exist today – rather like the proliferation of cough medicines where once-upon-a-not-so-long-ago one bottle per brand did perfectly well thank you very much. Marketeers have much to answer for, in this life and the next, but particularly in the world of medicine where everyone qualifies as having Asperger’s today for one reason or another.
(Been there and told them to shove their diagnoses and anxiety medicines up their arses. Shyness is not a ‘medical condition’. Awkwardness is not a ‘medical condition’. It’s what makes us what we are, full stop, not an excuse for a pity party or a Get Out Of Fail Free ticket every time we f**k up).
‘Having had so many negative experiences with the authorities and schools trying the achieve the best for my disabled children, I have developed a passion for doing whatever I can to change the system so that children with Special Needs no longer suffer.’
Nice mission statement, shame about the proof reading.
Pity she comes out with this.
Never happened – except in a 1996 episode of ‘Friends’:
First sign of a fourth rater – plagiarising old jokes and trying to pass them off as real family experiences.
This was bad enough, but she compounds the offence by later making fun of her own daughter’s dyslexia (if this one ever happened either):
‘She never lived it down, bless her … but it’s all very good humoured.’
Four years later:
‘…although they appear to be coping ok, they’re really in a state of high anxiety the whole time.’
Yeah. So would we all if we had a dipshit mother posting up all your pratfalls for entertainment on the internet. One who would be the first to go running to the authorities demanding action on the bullying of her autistic children if anyone else did either of the above to them.
For the above you could cherry pick a billion other examples from Facebook and Twitter (the preferred homes of the hardcore internet arsehole) from a billion other parents. You know what they say about most people whom have suffered mistreatment it was at the hands of those closest to them: should we be any more surprised that it turns out the same is true when it comes to it over the World Wide Web?
The Trouble With … Logan Paul (And Vloggers)
The foul smelling stench of You Tube has turned a shade of dried urine almost from the turn into 2018 with worldwide soaking of panties over Logan Paul’s less than tasteful visit to Aokigahara (青木ヶ原), the so-called ‘Sea of trees’ at the base of Mount Fuji in Japan which for years was a popular setting for Japanese ghost stories and other supernatural legends, but has now joined the Golden Gate Bridge and Beachy Head as one of the world’s traditional place to go and kill yourself.
(Strangely, the deadliest places in the world, such as Yorkshire’s The Strid – where to fall in means certain death in seconds – often have no history as popular suicide spots, which does back psychologists claims that more often than not these places are chosen for their significance to accentuate what they are making is a cry for help – unfortunately, this doesn’t always work out as subconsciously planned)
Japanese culture has an unfortunate prediliction with suicide, even by Oriental standards, and as the internet has made the world smaller, so Aokigahara now attracts an international audience of media ghouls who know what their audiences want – of which Logan Paul has been merely the latest.
In this case he found more than he bargained for.
This was not so much the problem as his reaction to it. Even given for the perhaps understandable bizarre way people will act in shock over a moment of horror (laughter being a common one – as the Milgram Experiment showed), his behaviour was in poor taste.
There was the inevitable apology, which tend to be of the same ‘my bad!’ sincerity as a court lawyer withdrawing a remark the judge has asked the jury to ignore knowing full well it will have had the effect intended regardless, combined with the equally inevitable self-justification (‘it was to raise awareness, bros! ‘Coz suicide sucks, dudes. So, like, don’t do it, and stuffs.’ ).
Had he thrown in an apology for that haircut, it may have gone some way to showing sincerity.
Whoops! Can’t have flippancy, this is all super serial. Even Sophie Turner, or Ginger Stark from Game Of Thrones took time out to take him down.
Huh! The same Sophie Turner who had no problems letting herself be raped by Ramsey Bolton in Game Of Thrones for the sake of ratings (and her own blossoming career – ‘show them you can handle the grittier roles – look how ‘The Accused’ worked wonders for Jodie Foster, you don’t want to end up typecast as a fairy princess all your days!’) – a full two seasons after Emilia Clarke took a stand and made it clear to the show’s producers they were getting no more wardrobe malfunctions or ‘break the cutie’ scenes from her as disquiet grew over how much the show was trying to be real to the medieval style societies it is based around and how much was merely violent pornographic titillation and female objectification of women – brutal tropes from half a century ago the media claim they wish to bury.
It’s been much the same media reaction elsewhere, Vanity Fair showing no sense of self-awareness with the following.
The same humbuggery has appeared on You Tube itself with its own latest bonfire of the vanities – seems like only yesterday they were roasting PewDiePie for crimes against humanity.
The looks of horror, the face clutching, the hand haircomb of despair, the tears.
THE TEARS DAMN YOU TO HELL, THE TEARS!
***cough!*** maybe might make us some money later for the vlogs which are monetarised, maybe ***cough!***
Can’t you see how much these poor innocent Vloggers have been triggered by all this? How much they are suffering for us all, dying for his sins! They are so brave! Doing so much! Remember these videos are NOT monetised, and they have made donations in honour of the person whose name and all other details are completely unknown.
AND YOU SHOULD TOO, AND THAT’S THE ONLY MONEY THEY ASK OF YOU – THE – ONLY – MONEY!
ONE – LOUSY – BUCK, COUGH – UP – MUTHAFUCKERS!
You may however want to show solidarity by subscribing. Just saying without actually saying. We’re doing a good deed and stuffs. It’s up there in a nice big red button. Doesn’t cost you anything. Go on, press it. That felt better, didn’t it? Ahhhhhhh.
As Kavos, Boogie2988, True Geordie, My Name Is Martin and the rest of these pollutants of the zeitgeist wring their hands and wash them in their own crocodile tears, you know they’re hoping they’ll be the ones to benefit from the backlash. The ‘just ended his career’ is more a wish than a question.
Maybe they will get a slice of the Logan Paul action with all the fame (it’s a relative thing) and fortune (which most certainly isn’t and beats the hell out of proper work) it comes with – travelling the world for a start on someone else’s tab needs no recommendation when the alternative for these losers is some entry level job in a call centre or flipping burgers – if they’re lucky to find a job at all in the current climate.
If anything highlighted the shamelessness of these You Tube vloggers, it’s their God.
The same PewDiePie they all turned against in a heartbeat when the real, whoops, ‘mainstream’ media tore him to pieces over these…
… and for much the same reason flies lay their eggs on wounded flesh, in the hope their future will be nourished on the rotting corpse of the dead. One YouTube star dies, there’s always another thousand competing to take their place, as has been the way since the days of Boxxxy.
To put matters into context, not one of these ‘traumatised’ Vloggers – or any other media outlets for that matter – raised a murmer of protest over Vice’s trip to Aokigahara five years ago, which produced the following grotesque moment from sixteen minutes onward:
Half a minute later comes the following gem.
‘Yes we did find a skeleton today.’
OH REALLY! WOW! THANKS FOR POINTING THAT OUT AFTER HALF A MINUTE PANNING ALL OVER IT!
On and on, with more time given to the poor bastard than they ever got in life – there’s your metaphor in all this.
That, and not a single word of protest was ever raised about the film or any part of it, and this is one of the most viewed You Tube channels of all.
Consider that before you swallow any of the bullshit from these publicity parasites pretending that Logan Paul has somehow dropped the bar which fell to the ground, onto a dog turd and been covered in various others long before he came to pick it up and hurl for the dogs to chase.
What’s even more troubling is the cold fact plenty of those criticising him aren’t angry, scandalised or anything else other than being merely jealous. Sure, the video was taken down, sure he was forced to show contrition, but to paraphrase Stephen Fry to Natalie Portman in V For Vendetta in the meantime his hit count will soar as every other video gets hammered from rubberneckers looking for other examples of shocking content.
The trouble with Logan Paul isn’t what he did was so offensive, so above the normal boundaries of good taste. It’s that it was so atypical of those seeking to maximise their audiences within the pipsqueak medium of You Tube that in the amoral world of the Vlogger what they will really be cursing him for is in their private mind they will feel he got ‘lucky’. Anyone pretending otherwise there’s one word for you – Quxxn!
Sorry Ranjeet Singh, But You’re Not The First ‘Pop Cop’ Using Dance Moves To Control Traffic
That honour goes to Owen Darcy of the St Louis police department.
Dacey kept the St. Louis’s North Broadway and East Grand intersection at rush hour moving almost as slickly as himself for over three decades from the 1960s to the 1980s.
When asked at the time for the reason behind his innovative traffic control methods, Dacey stated ‘I have to make traffic flow. I have to use motions people understand and make them move right now. If it comes out like I’m doing the twist, I can’t help that. It’s the only way to direct traffic down here.’
His novel way of controlling traffic was immortalised in the short film Pop Cop by Don Pietromonaco, and achieved international fame after it was used as part of the legendary Hanna Barbera children’s TV show ‘The Banana Splits‘. This spawned a host of imitators (particularly in the USA), but Dacey was the original.
Perhaps most remarkable of all is that despite directing traffic back in the days petrol had enough lead in it to make roof tiles, he lived another twenty one years after his retirement.
Happy Christmas (Belatedly)
Enjoy the festivities and parties.
But please remember when you take to the dance floor, you will never, ever be as cool as the kids in the old Charlie Brown movies.
They had the brilliant Vince Guaraldi Trio to help them make the moves.
The song is called ‘Linus And Lucy’ before you ask, it debuted in It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown and is often regarded (incorrectly) as the Charlie Brown theme owing to its popularity. It was very poorly remade for the movie in 2015 by Christophe Beck, for which he will spend eternity in Hell.
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