Sunday, 27 July 2008

So what has New Labour done for YOU?


Old Holborn is not the author of this post. That belongs to Crumpy Gunt over at Grumpier Old Men


ZNL lose their third safest seat. Where have ZNL gone wrong?Where do you start?


Alienating the electorate. My summary:


They have a PM that was handed the job by his predecessor who is wholly unpopular as he looks and is a knob.He can’t do the job, he can’t communicate, he looks a knob and whenever I see him on the box he lies, dithers and looks half asleep.

He’s brought nothing new to the table since TB pissed off.

As for things that are pissing people off:


  • Not allowing a vote on the EU which ZNL promised.

  • Wasting lives and money needlessly IMHO in Iraq and Afghanistan.

  • Not giving troops the best equipment that is available.

  • ZNL failing in their duty of care to our armed forces.

  • Making the elderly sell their homes to fund their own healthcare.

  • Compulsory ID cards.

  • Letting prisoners out early as they’ve failed to build new prisons.

  • Other dangerous prisoners also walking out of Open Prisons almost on a daily basis.

  • Stealth Taxes. Never ending, ever increasing.

  • Abysmal stewardship of the judicial system handing out ludicrously low sentences.

  • Lack of Police on the streets.

  • Burglary no longer an imprisonable offence.

  • Lacklustre Ministers, many of them women who come out with one barking mad policy after another. E.g only being able to appoint minority groups to jobs.

  • Embracing the ‘Human Rights Act’ which is 99% used by scrotes.

  • Filthy MRSA and C Diff ridden Hospitals which show people that ZNL doesn’t give a toss about you.

  • Anti Global warming (stealth taxation). E.g Road Tax soon to go through the roof.

  • Unchecked food, petrol, gas and electricity increases.

  • Doing fuck all about the Equitable Life fiasco (which affected around 1m people).

  • Monitoring peoples private phone calls, e-mail and texts.

  • Total over surveillance.

  • Failing to control immigration.

  • Not being able to find David Cameron’s bike.

  • Northern Rock fiasco. Another massive waste of money.

  • Failing to regulate financial institutions effectively thereby causing the credit crunch.

  • Not sacking Ian Blair.

  • Failing to build new roads resulting in humungous congestion practically everywhere.

  • House prices falling.

  • Nanny state laws being introduced daily.

  • Smoking ban. fucking up pub life.

  • Giving charitable donations to pisspot countries who are bugger all to do with us and wouldn’t give us the snot off their noses if it was the other way round.

  • Fucking up the London Tube.

  • Creating an environment where the Police seem to be on the side of scrotes not the taxpayers that pay their wages.

  • Useless measures like ASBO’s, community service orders that deter nobody.

  • Impression that prisoners suffer no real hardship, in fact have a better standard of living than those on the outside.

  • NHS Postcode lottery causing absolute mayhem in the NHS. Massively unfair.

  • Confiscating Boris Johnson's cigar case that he nicked from Tariq Aziiz's bombed house.

  • High percentage of school leavers who can’t even read and write.

  • People are afraid to go out at night through fear of being mugged, raped, stabbed or shot.

  • Many estates like the wild west.

  • Law and order is a joke.

  • People ending up with a criminal record for committing relatively minor offences such as dropping a dog end in the street.

  • Over zealous use of terror legislation to throw out moaning old blokes attending ZNL party conferences or Japanese tourists taking photographs of the House of Commons.

  • Scottish and Welsh divollution adding massively to taxation and chaos.

  • Endless PC Bollocks.

Guido's fellow conspirators are adding to the list

Thursday, 24 July 2008

A Slight Recess



Old Holborn is away next week upsetting the French, plundering their wine cellars and hitting their children, whilst pushing every fluff lipped teenager he can find off their pathetic mopeds.
Blogging may be slow. Diplomatic relations with the Gauls may hit a new low.

Leave me ALONE

I am not a number! I am a free sheep!

I’m a Libertarian. Lots of people ask me what exactly that means, so to clarify a little, let me explain. I used to be a Liberal on the grounds that I detest Labour who constantly want to run every single aspect of your fucking life, from how much you can put in your bin to how many alcohol units you can drink or where you can smoke or…bollocks. You get the picture.
I couldn’t vote Tory either because basically, they are rich cunts who couldn’t give a shit what happens along as they can make money out of it, and I believe that life is for living, not for acquiring vast fortunes. Then I realised that the Liberals are just wishy washy versions of the other two parties. They would arse rape you too but are too polite so go off and wank furiously at the thought in a layby near Harrogate.

Right. So where does my vote go?

Libertarians. What does a libertarian believe in?

My life, my responsibility – This means that if I want a house, I get a job that will pay me enough to buy a house. This means I will need skills that people will pay for. This means I need to be half ways educated. So, I studied, got a good job, earned enough to buy a house and bought one. Not exactly remarkable but millions of people out there prefer to let the State organise all of that for them. The end result is that the State, who frankly couldn’t run a bath, educated them. So they are thick. So the State let’s them go to university where they study “Wayne Rooney Interactions and Paradigm shifts”. They pass and now have an utterly useless qualification. So they can’t get a good job because they are thick and not qualified. So they turn to the State for Tax Credits to supplement their income stacking shelves in Aldi. Now they can just about afford a house but shit themselves each month when the bills drop on the mat. One percent change in Interest rates will see them living back with Mum and Dad. Is that a free life? Nope. It is bonded labour to the all powerful State.

If it is not expressly forbidden, then it is allowed. That used to be the case. Want to put a model of a shark on the roof? Go ahead. Want to drill for oil in your own garden? No problem. This has now all changed 180 degrees. Britain has become a place where unless it is expressly allowed, consider it forbidden. How many times have you thought “I wonder if I’m allowed to do that” recently? Every single part of our lives is being run centrally and it pisses me off. If what I am doing is not hurting or lowering the quality of anyone else’s life, why the fuck should they be interested? But they are. Very interested. I am monitored, tracked and studied by everyone from Tescos to the TV licensing people. Libertarianism says “look. Fuck off. Leave me alone, alright?If I came up to you and continually flicked you on the cheek, you'd ask me to stop, if I didn't stop, you'd end up smacking me one. Don't say you haven't been warned.”. (H/T Snowolf)

So in summary, if you believe that ultimately, when lying on your deathbed, you had the life that you wanted because you took responsibility for it and can die happy, then you are a Libertarian. If you gasp and mutter that not enough is in the bank, that awful Mr Wilson let you down, your lot was shite, wouldn’t it have been nice if only…etc, then you are exactly the sort of twat that the three main political parties feed off.

Libertarians may or may not die rich. They may or may not die famous or successful. But they DO die happy. Because they did it their way.
So join. It costs a tenner, you get a nice little badge and a keyring that could start some great arguments down the pub. You also get the feeling that you might just be taking the first step on a road YOU want to travel, and not being herded down the M6 on a Friday afternoon with all the other morons.
There is no left or right in politics any more. This battle is about one thing, Authority versus Liberty

Wednesday, 23 July 2008

Primary School riots in Pakistan

After the government announced today that strict new laws and restrictions will be applied in an attempt to curb forced marriages and the importation of child brides into the UK, 9 year fiancees of their 30 year old cousins rioted in Karachi.

7 year old Fatima said (via a translator)

This is shit, innit. Ever since I was born, I have been engaged to Habib Hubcap, my dad's brother. I'm supposed to be in Bradford by now, bigging it up wiv da Mothercare Massive instead of sitting here chewing dust for like, no rupees a day, whatever, to support the family housebrick business. We are not happy. Mohammed married a foetus AND had bridesmaids and cake and everything, so this is obviously another outrage against Islam. Like them pictures, innit.

Her Fiance, 30 year old Mr Habib Hubcap, speaking from his taxi in Bradford said (via a translator)
This is shit, innit. I've filled in the child benefit forms, my other wives have bought her a Bratz doll in Argos from their own pocket money and now what? 21 years old before Fatima can join me in my bed? Fuck me, life expectancy for females is only 14 in my province, so I guess I'm engaged to a corpse. My brother paid me £3000 to marry this inbred and I've already spent that on the Mondeo so he's not getting that back, I can bloody well tell you....I feel a Jihad coming on. What's Trevor Phillip's number, innit?

Jacqui Smith is lovely and currently in hiding.

Pakistani cousins outside the infant school gates today in Karachi

BBC Licencing Department





The Reichstag this morning

Farqham Hall
23/07/08

Dear Sirs/Madams/ Transgenders

It has been brought to my attention by some computer generated abuse from your good selves in the snailmail this morning that you wish me to pay a not inconsiderable sum for your services, which I neither use nor require.

In a bid to understand exactly what it is you purport to offer, I had a look at the listings online. Ye Gods. You really have lost the plot haven’t you? Do you really think you can charge people real money for atrocious drivel that you pollute the airwaves with? I am somewhat renowned for my over active bile duct but I can honestly say that the services of a travelling coconut shy, fronted by a Romany toothless old hag smelling of lucky heather are more appealing for the pound in my pocket than you lot. What the hell are you spending all that money on?

Apart from the fact that you receive your income from the public, you insist on believing that it is the Government that pays your wages. What other reason could there possibly be for the likes of Nick Robinson felching over the current bunch of thieves, crooks and wandering minstrels in power or placing that well known champagne socialist/cock sucker Polly Toynbee on OUR screens? You do understand that a television is a highly valued object here at Farqham Hall and will only take so many housebricks being thrown at it before it goes the way of British Industry or Northern Rock?

I digress. Needless to say, I didn’t order celebrity pig wanking, Noel fucking Edmonds, the Telly Tubbies, ethnically adjusted news readers or Barbara Bastard Windsor into my castle and therefore see no reason why you should expect me to keep them in the style to which you have made them accustomed. I no longer require a licence as I no longer require a Television, spouting grain harvest figures or tractor production direct from New Labour 24/7. I no longer need to see whether Peaches Geldof is wearing any knickers as she climbs out of a taxi and I certainly no longer need to see endless reports, live from Karachi, telling me to buy organic Halal meat as it is healthier for me (and drink less, stop smoking, brush your teeth and eat up all your greens).

In the same way I have not ordered nor require Dwarf Porn, curry Pizzas, Kentucky Fried Chicken or raw sewage pumped into my house, I no longer require (nor indeed, ever did) your slurry. Please take this letter as cancellation of my use of the TV. Oh, and don’t use the argument that because I can receive the BBC, I should pay for it. I could use the same argument about my energy suppliers and yet only one bills me every month.

I remain completely disobedient and your master.

Old Holborn

PS: Let me know when you have something that I might like to watch and I’ll consider paying to watch it. Until then, keep awarding yourselves pay rises, bonuses, jolly days out to Beijing to watch the under 14 girls gymnastics, employing all your darling nieces and nephews, fresh out of South Upminster University. Like Labour, you will eventually run out of other people’s money. "sail on by" my fat, hairy arse.


"This is the BBC. Do as you are fucking well told. Do not go out, eat all your greens, stop drinking and smoking. This is for YOUR benefit This has been a Public Service Announcement on behalf Of ZaNuLabour. Thank You *fizzle*"

Tuesday, 22 July 2008

Of a certain age

Right. A non political post.

I was (well, still am, bit like riding a bike) a musician. Except I played Synths during the eighties. I'd learned piano in the lower middle class family I was raised in, in the hope that it would improve my IQ and further my climb up the greasy pole. My dad had also bought a house that had a Broadwood concert Grand Piano in it. They couldn't get it out as they had built an annex around it. So I started at 7 and gave up at 12.

At 17, I was fully into music and decided to buy a synth. A yamaha CS-5. Monophonic, tiny and full of knobs and buttons



Within two years, I had a rig to rival Pink Floyd. I remember spending £3500 on the first Memorymoog imported into the UK. I was then earning £2400 a year. Aged 19.


Suffice to say, it worked. I signed to a foreign record label, moved to Frankfurt and toured throughout Europe with some great, great bands. Worked with some great, great musicians and have a very interesting Xmas card list. I gave it all up naturally to become a racing driver, but that's a different story (no, I am not Andrew Ridgely)
Me, aged 23, on tour in Germany, with my long fringe and pixie boots
So.
Why is music such utter shite these days? I realise the sixties were great and I was lucky enough to actually be a part of the eighties. But has anything happened since? I mean, 30 fucking years have passed and NOTHING has happened. No new instruments, no new sounds, no new movements, no new passion, no new tribes, NOTHING.


Someone, please explain.

Monday, 21 July 2008

Britain. Who actually owns it?

This bloke does. He didn't buy it. It was given to him

This is a question I asked my Dad when I was 5. He had no idea. 42 years later, I now know

This is a precise from Amazon regarding one of the best books I have ever read

Who Owns Britain by Kevin Cahill


This is a remarkable and original survey of landownership in Britain and Ireland, detailed county by county.


For Britain, Cahill analyses this landownership, showing how a tiny minority exploits British society. 160,000 families, 0.3% of the population, own 37 million acres, two thirds of Britain, 230 acres each. Just 1,252 of them own 57% of Scotland. They pay no land tax. Instead every government gives them £2.3 billion a year and the EU gives them a further £2 billion. Each family gets £26,875.


By contrast, 57.5 million of us pay £10 billion a year in council tax, a land tax, £550 per household. We live in 24 million homes on about four million acres. 65% of homes are privately owned, so 16 million of us own just 2.8 million acres, an average 0.18 acres each.


The top landowners are the Forestry Commission, 2.6 million acres, the Ministry of Defence 750,000, the royal family 670,000 (including the Crown Estate 400,000 and the Duchy of Cornwall 141,000), the National Trust 550,000, insurance companies 500,000, the utility companies 500,000, the Duke of Buccleuch 270,700, the National Trust for Scotland 176,287, the Dukedom of Atholl 148,000, the Duke of Westminster 140,000 and the Church of England 135,000.


The Forestry Commission, Britain's biggest single landowner, runs its holdings conservatively and secretively. We could expand the forest estate by a million acres a year, producing rural jobs, getting profits from the sale of wood and pulp (cutting our balance of payments deficit) and reducing the output of greenhouse gases. This would cost between £588 million and £750 million.


Through the 18th century enclosures, the landowning class stole eight million acres from the people. They still hide their crimes and their takings. The 1872 Return of Owners of Land was made, but then hidden and never updated. Shares have to be registered; land doesn't. The Land Registry does not know who owns between 30 and 50% of land.


Cahill compares Britain with other countries where revolutions have ended the feudal tenure of land. Denmark redistributed its land to the peasantry in 1800. In Ireland, in 1876, 616 landowners owned 80% of the country. By 1930, 13 million acres of Ireland's 20 million acres had been sold to owner-occupiers. Now, there are no landlords - home ownership is 82%, Ireland's 149,500 farms are 97% owner-occupied and owner-farmed, there is no poll tax, water is free and pensioners get free transport, TV and glasses.


Cahill claims that Blair's reform of the House of Lords "definitively cut the permanent link between power and the landowners." But just as in 1872, the state is defending landed capital by making it less visible. Class power does not depend on sitting in the House of Lords, but on private ownership of the means of production, protected and subsidised by a capitalist state. The Greens, like the heritage lobby, shield the landowners against public ownership of the land.


The Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs says its mission is to shift EU subsidies from food production to land management, but the EU already does this, with its £2 billion annual subsidy to the landowners, not to working farmers. We need to produce our own food: food production is in our national strategic interest. It is a national security issue that must not be determined either by the EU or by the market.


Landowners' wealth is a parasite on Britain, the least productive part of the economy, with the most state support. Their wealth comes not from farming, nor even from renting, but from trickling land onto the urban housing market. They sell land to property developers, at an average price per acre of £404,000 in 1999. The clearing banks and building societies strip our industries of investment capital, then support their clients the landowners by running the rigged and overpriced land market.


Britain needs land reform. "Windfall gains on development land should be made subject to windfall taxes." We should also tax land and stop the owners avoiding tax through offshore trusts; this could raise £17 billion. The European Convention of Human Rights says there should be no confiscation without compensation. Haven't landowners had enough compensation already? We need more land for housing. This would cut land prices, free more to invest in good quality, spacious homes and gardens, and revive the building industry.

Arbeit Macht Frei


Our glorious leaders have decided that anyone on benefits should be forced to work (except of course, they haven't and they won't) but I did think the argument could be fun. I doubt that many of us would argue that there are millions of work shy wankstains out there, either on incapacity benefit or the dole who simply prefer a life of mild discomfort rather than 40 hours of actual work (clue: ALL of Wales, most of the North of England) but the concept of actually rounding them up, issueing them with spades and telling them to dig new roads is an interesting one.

We also know that over 7 million drones work directly for the State and 21 million drones receive some sort of benefit in cash from the State. Perfect for any government heading into a recession in fact. Do as you are told or the money stops. House gone, job gone and loan sharks circling.

So am I in favour of the workshy being forced to work?

No. I am not. Pay people who want to work and for those who would rather not, simply withdraw all benefits. I see no logical reason why I should pay taxes in order to fnance the welfare hammock that Lee and Mohammeds wives are currently "relaxing in". I don't want the State rounding up the workshy. I want the workshy to simply starve to death by not handing them billions upon billions just to keep them voting ZNL. Whether they receive their dole or a wageslip from Gordon, it is still bonded labour.

Prisoners can cut grass, sweep the streets and test dangerous drugs. Dressed in pink ballgowns. Instead of learning advanced drug dealing and PS3 skills in luxury hotels.

Bastards.

Get to work or stop holding out your hands for more scratchcard/Stella vouchers. Also anyone with ME (how apt is that diagnosis?) should be culled.
EDIT: It looks as if the Pravda/Beeb has fucked up by actually mentioning
This shake-up will apply to all 4.5 million people on out-of-work benefits,
he he he (Here)

Friday, 18 July 2008

Go On Gordon.....

Seen elsewhere

GOVERNMENT TO CONSOLIDATE ALL ITS DEBTS INTO ONE LOW MONTHLY PAYMENT
THE Treasury is to relax its rules on borrowing after seeing a television advert featuring Carol Vorderman. Officials are examining how they can adapt the fiscal rules set in place by Gordon Brown over a decade ago, allowing them to pay off existing debts and borrow more, all at one low, low rate of interest. The government is expected to secure the loan against the Royal Navy, Princess Anne and the Falkland Islands.
A senior Treasury source said: "We weren't sure until the permanent secretary stressed that it was Carol Vorderman. "He pointed out she was incredibly good at maths and then showed us some highlights from Countdown.

"Two, three, five, nine, 75 and 100 - and she still comes up with 684. Frankly, I couldn't have been more gobsmacked if she had turned herself into a chicken."

With tax receipts forecast to fall next year, the government believes a consolidation loan can help it to ease everyday money worries and treat itself to a ride-on lawnmower and a trip to the Grand Canyon.

The source added: "And if there's anything left over we'll use it to bribe the shit out of everyone just before the next election

Thursday, 17 July 2008

Mobile Finger printing

Yup. We knew it was coming. The Police can now walk up to you and demand your fingerprints. No if, but or please. Give me your fingerprints. If you refuse, you will be arrested, your DNA taken and your fingerprints taken by force.

Don't believe me? HERE







"There are two main benefits from the use of Lantern," he said.
"Firstly it helps establish someone's identity which can result in the apprehension of more criminals.
"Secondly, in normal circumstances if a person stopped is unable to verify who they are they are arrested, taken to a police station and have their fingerprints taken in custody.
"Now this can be done in quick time out on the streets reducing the inconvenience to members of the public stopped and freeing up officers both out on patrol and back in custody.




Wednesday, 16 July 2008

Time to TOOL UP!

Yay! Hallelujah!
Let the revenge begin - with extra sugar


Home owners and “have-a go-heroes” have for the first time been given the legal right to defend themselves against burglars and muggers free from fear of prosecution.

In practice, householders are seldom prosecuted if they harm or even kill an intruder but the Act will give them greater legal protection .They will be able to use force against criminals who break into their homes or attack them in the street without worrying that "heat of the moment” misjudgements could see them brought before the courts. Under new laws police and prosecutors will have to assess a person’s actions based on the person’s situation "as they saw it at the time” even if in hindsight it could be seen as unreasonable.

For example, homeowners would be able stab or shoot a burglar if confronted or tackle them and use force to detain them until police arrive. Muggers could be legally punched and beaten in the street or have their own weapons used against them.


Top value. So, starting today, I am going to start using my pepper spray on the retinas of the insolent oiks. If I am threatened with a knife, I am going to perform anal surgery on the perpetrator, with his own knife, and god forbid, if anyone is wandering around on my landing at 3am, they can expect to meet the cold hard steel of Wehrauch HW57

I am also looking forward to kicking to death my first chav.

BBC Bastards

I can see it now. A fleet of Espaces and Volvo's hurtling down the M4 to Heathrow to drop off Tarquin and Chlamidya, fresh from "Uni" clutching their media studies degrees. Squeals of delight from Mummy and Daddy and the rest of the Islington Cliteratti as they board the plane for their first "foreign assignment" in the big welcoming world of the BBC, all funded of course, by me.

Number of Team Great Britain Competitors going to China for the Olympics = 305

Number of BBC staff going to China for the Olympics = 437

BASTARDS!!!

Source: Private Eye

I hope your fucking planes crash, you cunts.

Beware the (t)ides of March

Lot's people keep asking why I don't screech around town in my car anymore and I keep telling them the reason is, it drowned. So for all of you who love a bit of Schadenfreude, just for you.

My car, parked in a car park at Tollesbury Marina in Essex after I took the dog for a walk on the very same day Spring High Tide visited.








Tuesday, 15 July 2008

Did they learn NOTHING from Crewe and Nantwich?

Maybe they think our jockanese cousins are simply as stupid as anyone from the Midlands.

Unbelieveable

H/T to guido.

Lenny Henry

Lenny yesterday

What the fuck is it with the English? In a galaxy far, far away, a long, long time ago, Lenny Henry made old people who lived in council houses and were scared of "darkies" laugh at a very, very bad impersonation of Frank Spencer.
OK, point 1 on his CV.
Well done.
From that moment onwards, he has been adopted by the BBC/Pravda as their own personal golliwog. Not a season passes without his stupid grinning face appearing in some politically correct shite either in some crap sit com aimed at the four black families who are actually at home eating thier tea, based around what his dad told him the UK was like when they got of the Windrush or gurning his way through Children in Need. In need of a fucking break from gormless fucktards like you, you cunt.
Recently, the BBC/Pravda funded a radio show of his called "Lenny Henry, totally unsuited for anything other than being married to the fat, unfunny one out of French and Saunders, pretends to give a shit about Bob Dylan". I can just see the luvvies over at White City creaming their knickers over the Islington Cliterrati points they'll score from that. A black man (gasp) doing Bob Dylan (gasp). Fact: Henry was so far out of his depth, a bathosphere wouldn't find him. Didn't stop him making pick of the week though.
We have also had some shite "comedy" on my favourite Radio 4 slot whereby he pretends to be the son of a Reggae Record shop owner. How fucking patronising is that? He did the same in some TV sitcom during the '80's featuring him as a barber with an entire black cast and that bombed bigger than Nagasaki.
Lenny. We know you are a useless unfunny cunt. We know you have bills to pay. But for the love of fucking Jesus and your own body stop bending over and taking it up the arse from the BBC in return for pieces of silver. You are doing NOBODY any favours. Not us, not blacks and not the BBC.
So fucking stop it. Get a proper job.
Ainsley, you're next.....
Lenny's stunning career can be found here
And here is his media manifesto (from his website)
Title card: Len's List:
1. When you're commissioning your programmes ...put diversity on the agenda. Write it in there so it doesn't get forgotten.
2. Reach out to schools and colleges and make people aware that ethnic minorities are welcome in the UK TV Industry - get in on the ground floor otherwise these people are not going to be able to contribute to our industry.
3. Set targets. You know who I'm talking about. If you don't set targets, you're gonna have an empty plate up here. I don't want anyone to end up with two cheesy balls and a pepperami ...set targets ...do it tomorrow.
4. Create internships to give people without the benefit of an Oxbridge education the chance to participate in programme making. I'm talking mentoring, apprenticeships the full works.
5. When you're looking for people to put in front of the cameras ... why don't you try going off the beaten track a little bit? You might just find... someone like me.
6.You commercial guys ...start thinking of ethnic minorities as an untapped market. They're the audience of the future; they're consumers just like everybody else, start going for that diversity pound.
7.and you might not be able to do this tomorrow ...unless you're Mark Thompson or Michael Grade ...but... Start appointing ethnic minority staff. None of this changes ...unless you appoint staff. Len
ARRRRRHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

Monday, 14 July 2008

Er....don't want to offend anyone but....

Further to my post that millions of Welsh, English and Scottish village dwelling teenagers are to be put under house arrest by High Chancellor Brown for well, being teenagers, I propose that we find one single person, one individual who might, just might, go out on a limb and risk 42 days for saying that the problem actually might lie.......





I know it will mean instant "re-education", incarceration, poverty, eviction and vilification but there must be one amongst us who could point out the bleedingly, blinding obvious to the Politburo?

I read this elsewhere:

"get out now, whilst you can, let the chavs, kurds, blacks and Albanians fight over the pox ridden worthless remnants of the UK" . It would appear they have already started


£2.8 BILLION pissed up the wall

Some tax credits yesterday after being handed out to Shazza Le Toyah Wilson of Hull by mistake. She spent them on scratchcards and Lambrini and is now the proud owner of a "Bratz" pair of ceramic hair tongs.


H/T to Patrick

The National Audit Office today published a report on HM Revenue & Customs 2007-08 accounts. The bit that will probably get all the media attention is the ongoing débâcle that is the Tax Credit system, introduced and much beloved by our glorious leader. Tim Burr, head of the National Audit Office, said:

"Levels of tax credits error and fraud are significant when compared with the expenditure on the scheme. I have therefore qualified my opinion on the regularity of these payments. HMRC now has a target and has developed a strategy for reducing error and fraud. It will need to monitor how the measures it adopts are contributing to the achievement of the target and to respond effectively."

HMRC now have a target and strategy to address this financial clusterfuck? Now? Well, that's reassuring. Some of the key information from the report on Tax Credits:


Tim Burr of the National Audit Office this morning

2.45 Since the tax credits scheme was introduced in April 2003 it has suffered from high levels of error and fraud. The Department’s latest estimate is that in 2006-07 error and fraud resulted in between £1.31 billion and £1.54 billion (7.2 to 8.4 per cent of the final value of awards) being paid to claimants to which they were not entitled...

2.46 The Department has set a target to reduce thecurrent level of claimant error and fraud to not more than 5 per cent by 2011...

2.48 In the first four years since the scheme was introduced, the Department calculates that year end adjustments, and other small changes to entitlement after the finalisation of awards, have led to a debt of £7.3 billion. It has also identified £700 million from in year adjustments to 2007-08 awards and will identify further overpayments for this year once awards are finalised. By the end of March 2008 the Department had collected £2.7 billion of this debt and written off£1.0 billion. £4.3 billion remains to be collected of which£1.8 billion is in doubt.

£2.8 BILLION. Simply handed out to any skullfucker with the nonce to ask. Overpayments, fraud, simply throwing bundles of our money out of the bastard window and watching it flutter all the way to Nigeria.


BASTARDS!!




Sunday, 13 July 2008

The END of freedom


I thought it was joke at first. Then I realised they are actually recommending putting a curfew on children.

A report from a House of Commons committee will say this week that a national curfew on young teenagers could curb anti-social and violent behaviour. Keith Vaz, the Labour chairman of the home affairs select committee, said: “I have sympathy with the view that children should not be out after 9pm"


The rest of us are next. If you have no legal business being out on the streets after midnight, you will be rounded up by fingermen. Quite, quite remarkable. Something I never thought I would see in the UK. The State actually locking up innocent people in their houses under pain of DNA extraction. Simply stunning.

People, we need to start rioting. I don't think I can take much more of this. My V for Vendetta walk is starting to look a very very long way off. The State is about to try, convict and sentence to house arrest millions of it's innocent citizens without any defence.

This must be stopped. Governments should be afraid of their people, not the other way round. Is there a curfew in Zimbabwe?

We already have laws to deal with this.

section 30(6) of the Anti-social Behaviour Act 2003 to remove a person between the hours of 9pm and 6am provided they’re under the age of 16. However, it can’t be used arbitrarily (R. (on the application of W) v Commissioner of Police of the Metropolis [2006] EWCA Civ 458). The young person must either be at risk of or be involved in anti-social behaviour

How exactly does putting millions of UK citizens in remote villages in the UK under house arrest deal with black knife crime in Harlesdon?



Details here

Talk live with a left wing radical

I love the Left Wing because they tell me everything I need to do.




Go on, ask it a question

Saturday, 12 July 2008

Lakesidism


Old Holborn is not the author of this post. That honour belongs to Farkinzarquads over at Grumpier Old Men


When does a luxury become a necessity?

In the current climate of increasing energy prices, rising taxation and commodity prices, a credit crunch and the collateral fallout to the economy the majority of people are obliged to assign a greater proportion of their disposable income to core costs.There’s really only two ways to offset these costs without developing further income streams.

Firstly you either (and quite naturally) look towards cutting back on the luxuries of life in order to service non-negotiables such as food, shelter, energy,clothing, water and toiletries.

A less orthodox strategy may be to peel back the core or non-negotiables to the bone by cutting back on energy use, taking a long stare at frivolous food purchasing, shopping in Lidl and perhaps Primark or Asda ‘George’(which when pronounced with a soft first G and a hard second G ala ‘yeorgee’can soften the blow by making it sound exotic or at least Balkan if you wish to fecklessly delude yourself). ‘Reduced’ similarly may become ‘Red- ooo- ched’ aka Red or Dead etc.
Either method or perhaps a combination of the two is what most of us without much in the banking pantry will adopt sooner or later. My grump is where we place the line between luxury and necessity. Before continuing this diatribe it’s worth pointing out that I put my hands up to being complicit in this myself and do not stand on some sort of smug moral high-ground looking down with any sort of self satisfied vindication I assure you. I’m just as much a greedy fool as the next person – but anyway.

I was born in the early 70’s and grew up as what may be described as one of Thatcher’s children. It may therefore be argued that having no empirical comparisons to make I couldn’t be aware of the context of the shift in paradigm that was taking place in Britain at that time until I had a later alternative with which to compare it and thus it was.

However, I do remember clearly having a pretty good idea of what most people had and didn’t have. Perhaps this was swayed somewhat as I came from quite a frugal if loving background but the media, current affairs, popular culture and being a part of a quite unique vogue for ‘progressive’ early schooling, with a wider cross section of economic classes than I might have expected to encounter, gave me ( I believe ) a fairly balanced framework.

The truth is that people from my economic background didn’t, for example , generally own cars, houses, sophisticated communication equipment, drink alcohol to excess daily (with obvious exceptions)or expect anything other than hard prison for legal transgression.

Even some of the more wealthy people I was at school with in those early years had successful parents who maybe had a lived-in Range Rover, went to America on business and had a town house in Islington or The Docklands – thing that would be quite unremarkable by today’s standards and certainly, for a much wider cross section of society, something realistic to expect or aspire to. My grump essentially hinges around this ‘expectation’ that many have.

If you’re wealthy then these trappings are just the baubles of that wealth and that’s how a free market economy rewards and encourages hard work, luck and innovation- no problem with that. It’s always been that way and like it or not it will always, in form or another, be that way.

What I farkin ‘ well do have a problem with great tranches of whatever passes for the lower middle classes, what remains of the working class and in particular what we now label as the lower working class or indeed the ‘not working at all class’.

For these groups the line between luxury and necessity has been distorted out of all proportion in the last 30 years, willingly ignored in the dash for the tangible trappings of a seemingly god-given right to up their game. When will these people realise that you simply cannot ‘have it all’ on a modest £12- £30k a year? Where has the idea of cutting ones’ cloth according to ones jib go? I suggest that it disappeared at about the time credit became cheap (both plastic and mortgage) in combination with an emerging culture and New Politics convincing us we can have it NOW.

If you earn this kind money then here are some suggestions:Don’t go and get a mortgage for 27,000 times your combined salary and then whinge when it all goes t1ts up – you weren’t meant to own a property on that kind of money. You’re meant to SAVE a big deposit first and forgo everything else. This should take, very roughly, your entirely life to execute – about the same amount of time as you will have the property to live in.

No sympathy.

Don’t knock your girlfriend up, have 14 children ,THEN borrow 27,000 times your combined salary in order to house them and then whinge about it. Put your d1ck in your pants, travel the Bourneville highway, spank the monkey a lot – doesn’t matter. Until you’ve SAVED the deposit , got the house and budgeted for the repayments don’t start a family.Oh, and if you do get married then s@unking 14 grand of your parents (or banks) money on a wedding so that auntie Gertrude can have a sherry and a slice of cake does NOT make for a sound fiscal strategy.

No sympathy.

A wide screen 42” TFT television , a new computer, a Bang and Olufsen media centre, an American walk-in refrigerator a Nokia abc123, the latest games console, a Dyson whirly Hoover or any other of superfluous gadgets and durables should NOT be considered necessities in an economic recession. Tough sh1t.

No sympathy.

Missing two weeks in Fuertovetura, Florida or Ibiza throwing lager down your throats, plucking the spiders legs from the bikini area and talking twaddle on a beach to equally pig-ignorant plastic neds is not actually going to kill you this year… or in fact ever. Don’t whinge when you can’t go (again).It certainly does not constitute a crisis worthy of divorce or the plead insolvency.

No sympathy.


A second , third or fourth car and the lack thereof is not a reason to plead poverty believe it or not.No matter how nicely the man at Easy Car Credit was and no matter how kind it was of him to throw in some re-tread rubber foot mats, the dog does not need it’s own second car…and neither does your pet canine.Furthermore a BMW X5, a Mercedes, a Lexus and similar marques are not ‘good cars’- they are absolutely frickin’ EXCEPTIONAL cars and something you would have been lucky to be run over by if they had existed in their current form in the 70’s so stop whining when the tax is due, it drinks a lot, needs servicing or doesn’t somehow clean itself. Own it, enjoy it and if you can’t afford it- sell it.

You weren’t meant to have it. That’s life.

Similarly Ford, Toyota, Renault, Mazda, VW and such marques are not ‘sh1t’ cars but GOOD cars by the same sort of argument. If you can’t deal with the loss of pride that shift of thinking entails then you’ve lost the plot.

No sympathy.
There are endless other examples I could introduce of whinging, feckless, inappropriate and largely misguided thinking going on in Britain at the moment and much of it from people of a similar age and background to me that unless lobotomized really should know better.

Perhaps the way forward under the circumstances is to try and regain some of this seemingly elusive perspective, be thankful for small mercies, and just f@cking -well get on with it. The idiots that have been smoking a bongful of credit for the last 15 years will be forced to sober up and suffer ,the banks will have their fingers burnt but the trappings of a good life may return to be the things we aspire in a more measured fashion and give them greater meaning and pleasure in their acquisition which might just make us better people in the long run.


Recession? Can’t come too soon.

Monday, 7 July 2008

The Diary of Old Holborn, July 7th 2011



A Day in the life of Old Holborn


Thursday 7th July 2011


07:00. Radio Four woke me up with Citizen Humphries blathering on about increased tractor production as usual. Since they started piping it directly into our homes via BBC cable and removed the on off switch, I do as most people do. Put a towel over the speakers they installed in every room. You’re not supposed to and sometimes good stuff is on but I still have a headache from last nights home brew.


07:30 Since butter was banned, I prefer to eat an egg, fried in lard. Wolfed that down whilst catching up on the Internet. Nobody has revoked my EU issued bloggers licence yet even though I complained about an article in Pravda telling us that Iraq is not really Iraq but a part of Iran. No Email as yet but it usually arrives late after the ISP has cleaned it for me.


Nice cup of tea though! No more sugar for me! I was warned by the GPNet that my bodymass is going up and if I want to still be on their list, I must desist immediately. They've told Tescos who won't sell me any. I’ll get used to it, I’m sure


08:30 Sit at my desk and start work. Login Screen stares back at me with some useless motivational quote designed to make sure I go to work with a smile. Webcam is on, they can reach me if they need to. I love being self employed. No more commuting for me and no more bosses (apart from “the one”, obviously) checking me every five minutes via the ISP. I work in Renewable Energy Recruitment and the Government has decided that I have to work extra hard to fulfil their EU quota by 2020. I’m allowed to work for myself as long as I hit the quotas they have set. I have to use their database of course and they get the final say over who goes where, but hey, other than that, a coffee when I want it (as long as I’m not over my daily limit) and the chance to surf all four remaining sites on the Internet.


09:30 Multiple choice questionnaire received from Pravda (online) to check I am aware of the Party daily bulletin. I’m not. Which means I am forced to read the articles they have published otherwise my computer will shut down. Dammit. One hour late. Very knowledgeable on Islam though.


12:00 Pop to the shop. Tesco have fitted RF scanners and like an idiot I took my wife’s ID card by mistake so apart from greeting me like a woman, the shopping trolley informs me that I need tampons. Wonderful. If I don’t buy them, a message will be sent to her GP informing them that she needs a hysterectomy or some such shite. Bollocks. If I have her ID card, I won’t be able to buy my daily ration of beer either. She only gets 12 units a week and the scanner will reject it. Arse. Apparently we have used too much mustard as well, so I get the usual “unexpected item in the baggage area” as I try to pay with my EURO card. Stasi Officer comes over and makes me put it back. Now he wants to know why I'm buying tampons. I tell him I am gay and my arse is leaking. Haven’t they got anything better to do?
Shit! My controller will also want to know how I can be at my desk while my wife who has my card is currently oystering the Underground in my name. More reports to file.


12:30 Mad Mickey gives a nod and a wink on the way home from his car. That means he has some tobacco to sell. WICKED! We meet at the usual place (no CCTV) and I hand over the readies and am already looking forward to a furtive puff this evening when the lights go off at blackout!


13:00 Bollocks. Web cam wanted to know why I’m late. I told it I had the shites and now it has booked me an appointment with my personal health advisor for tomorrow. Attendance is mandatory. *fume*


16:00 Nearly made my 200 calls for the day. Since BT switched the lines over to VoIP, all calls get logged and a massive reconciliation takes place over night with who called whom and if you haven’t been calling who you said you were calling on the system. Only two Emails were rejected by Steve at Blueline PLC as “offensive”. Steve is what we call a gobstopper. If he’s sleepy, you can get anything past him but most of the time, his automated censor software bags you bang to rights and more shit hits the fan. More reports to write and a £200 fine for a "rejected content" Email. Joy.


18:00 Time to log off. The ISP severs the connection and powers up the Pravda Evening Bulletin online. Bloody andrew Marr. Blah blah blah.


19:00 Din Dins! Apparently, I am having steamed fish with new potatoes and lentils this evening. My slot on the food rota changed last week so the fridge ordered it for me via the ISP link to Tescos. I’ll be fit and healthy at this rate! Eat it all up. I cannot get rid of food waste (as there is not supposed to be any and I hate flushing it down the bog). Recipe is shouted at me by Rancid Delia, the speaker system. I thank my doctor for his unwanted monitoring.


20:00 SomaTV is on. Eastenders, Lottery, How to bake bread and the Circus. Sod that. Cover the TV with the TV blanket and wander round the garden. I’m growing vegetables (which I really shouldn’t. Not allowed. God forbid, I might be growing skunk instead of artichokes) and they’re coming on fine. Can’t wait to add a few to the Tesco diet I am supposed to be stuck on (thanks Doc).


22:00 Ha ha. Home brew time. Little do they know that yeast and sugar pretty much kick themselves off if you know how. Apples (oh yes, they grow on next doors tree. I pretended to be picking up the windfalls for “recycling” but only put half in the bin when the Council Brownshirts came round to weigh them. They looked at me a bit dodgy though. I really don’t need grief off them again. 42 days of hell just for using the "turbo cider" recipe from River Cottage. A quick puff on the pipe and time for a read in bed. "1984 by Tony Blair". I remember those days. Anarchy, disorder. Dreadful.


What a day. Still payday tomorrow! I’ve nearly paid off the transport loan (for the car. Only the government is allowed to sell them now) and have enough carbon credits saved up to apply for a trip to the seaside. As long as I can get three others to join me, I’ll be allowed through the tollgates & checkpoints. I might ask DK, Guido and Rog Thornhill to join me.


Bollocks. They’re banned from my Myspace Network although my ISP has arranged for me to be friends with three other people. Mrs Dale, Dirty European Socialist and some nutter called Mozo. Apparently, they’ll be “good for you” – thanks mate. God forbid I take the missus’s ID RFID card again. I’ll be stuck with three fat munters discussing Beckham’s arse again.

Melt Down

I may just go into Meltdown this morning. I had a cracking weekend, no kids for once in a blue moon, the missus bought a very nice basque and I am now officially "empty"
Woke up this morning and I feel somewhat peeved
Apparently, we must not waste food whilst the Olympics plod onwards
CCTV is costing us £800 a year each whilst it is too dangerous to walk outside
Pravda are in "eat less" overload
Knife wielding loons had a busy weekend
Bacl later after I haved stopped hyperventilating
I appear to hyper sensitive to the utter idiocy of it all, so will gather my thoughts and then I will be needed a skilled surgeon to tend to my vented spleen

Saturday, 5 July 2008

646 Lamp Posts Required



from the LPUK Blog

http://lpuk.blogspot.com/2008/07/646-people-responsible-for-all-of.html

Politicians are the only people in the world who create problems and then campaign against them.

Have you ever wondered why, if both the Conservative and Labour parties are against national debt, we have a national debt? Have you ever wondered why, if all the politicians are against inflation and high taxes, we have inflation and high taxes?

You and I don't propose a budget. The Chancellor does. You and I don't have the authority to vote on Government spending plans. Members of Parliament do. You and I don't write the tax code. Members of Parliament do. You and I don't set fiscal policy. Members of Parliament do. You and I don't control monetary policy. The Chancellor does, and the Bank of England follows his instructions.

646 Members of Parliament -- 646 human beings out of our 60 million population -- are directly, legally, morally and individually responsible for the domestic problems that plague this country.

I've excluded the House of Lords for a sound reason. They don't originate legislation, and any suggestions that they make can be overruled by the House of Commons. Members of Parliament, and Members of Parliament alone, are responsible for legislation.

I've excluded all of the special interest groups and lobbyists for a sound reason. They have no legal authority. They have no ability to coerce a Member of Parliament to do one cotton-picking thing. I don't care if they offer an MP one million pounds in cold, hard cash. The MP has the power to accept or reject it.

No matter what the lobbyist promises, it is the legislator's responsibility to determine how he votes.

Don't you see how the con game is played on the people by the politicians? Those 646 human beings spend much of their energy convincing you that what they did is not their fault. They co-operate in this timeless con regardless of party.

When a politician speaks of honour, it's the kind that's only found amongst thieves. When they speak of trust, you know it's yours that they will be taking advantage of.

It seems inconceivable to me that a nation of 60 million cannot replace 646 people who stand convicted -- on a daily basis -- of gross incompetence and irresponsibility.

When you fully grasp the plain truth that 646 people exercise the power of our national government, then it must follow that what exists is what they want to exist.

If the tax system is unfair, it's because they want it unfair. If the budget is in the red, it's because they want it in the red. If our troops are in Iraq, it's because they want them in Iraq.

There are no insoluble government problems. Do not let these 646 people shift the blame to bureaucrats, whom they hire and whose jobs they can abolish; to lobbyists, whose gifts and advice they can reject; to regulators, to whom they give the power to regulate and from whom they can take it.

Above all, do not let them con you into the belief that there exist disembodied mystical forces like "the economy," "inflation" or "politics" that prevent them from doing what they took an oath to do.

These 646 people and they alone are responsible. They and they alone have the power. They and they alone should be held accountable by the people who are their bosses. These 646 people are employed by us, to work for us, but have miserably failed us at every turn.

It's time to hang every last one of them.

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