Ask Yourselves a Question

Back in September, as the storm clouds of economic collapse began to 'lour over our shores', I looked at the Brown Regime with increasing fear. I saw a Vision of the Future, and it wasn't pleasant.

You can find it here:

A Vision of the Future - Part One
A Vision of the Future - Part Two
A Vision of the Future - Part Three

With rumblings in the air of a February General Election, my thoughts have again returned to the Brown Regime and to a man deluded enough to believe he has saved the world. Watch the news. Ask yourself a simple question.

Do you REALLY think you will get a vote?

I am, more than ever, certain that whatever date is set for the General Election, it will be preceded by a terrorist incident of some kind. That will be the catalyst for the Brown Regime to invoke the Civil Contingencies Act 2004.

Look at the date of that legislation. Look which Government introduced and implemented that legislation. Ask yourself why they introduced it, and who it benefits.

Read the legislation. Note the definitions of an 'emergency'. Ask yourself, objectively, just how easy it would be for an incident to fall within these parameters.

You cannot protest - you will fall foul of the Fingermen. Your Opposition cannot challenge, for fear of arrest. Challenge the Regime in public, you're likely to end up taking a terminal walk in the woods.

Time and again the Regime have removed our Civil Liberties - even wanting to restrict the Freedom of the Press - and each reduction has increased the likelihood of a Totalitarian State. British Freedom is already dead, and your right to an elected Government died with it.

Do you REALLY think you will get a vote?

Our economy in free-fall, unemployment exploding, Sterling collapsing, this once-great nation now a laughing stock, debt to handcuff not just us, but generations to follow. And the Brown Regime still spinning, still outright lying, supported as ever by their cohorts in Pravda.

Still desperate to keep their grubby hands on the power they coveted for so many years. They've come this far, made this many laws, gained more control over you and yours than any Government in history.

Perhaps I'm cynical, perhaps I'm pessimistic. But all I can do is watch the news, listen to the lies and the spin, and draw my own disheartening conclusions.

Ask yourself.

Do you REALLY think you will get a vote?

Ban It! Ban It NOW!

It's coincidental that others have commented on Sitemeter so recently. This week has been the first week I've had Sitemeter installed, and it's been both a blessing and a curse for me.

Sitemeter is, in many ways, totally fantastic - it allows me to see how many of you are reading this drivel, how often you visit me, and even (to an extent) where in the world you are. And I love it. But I don't think it's healthy. In fact, Sitemeter seems to be creating in me an addiction that would make even the most ardent Crackberry fan quail in fear.

You see, the problem is, you get up in the morning and think, "I'll just take a quick look at my stats for the day so far". Which is fine.

And then, at lunchtime, it's, "I wonder how many hits today's post(s) are getting?", which is also fine.

Then by late evening you're hunched over the laptop, frantically hitting refresh, watching your hits and mentally screaming, "Ohmigod, I've had five less than yesterday, does this mean I'm being less interesting and amusing and funny and were my last posts crap? And is that why I've got fewer hits than I had yesterday and is my Blogging falling apart and AAARGH! AAARGH AAAAAAAARGH gotta write something really awesomeRIGHTNOWtogetmyhitsbackupARGH!"

You get the idea.

Sitemeter is, therefore, the curse of the aspiring Blogger, turning hit-counts into a weapon that drives you, ever harder, to produce more and more better and better content.

It's probably causing me psychological damage. Therefore, as it could be potentially harmful, I can only call for Sitemeter to be banned forthwith.

Ban it. Like everything else.

I Will Not Forget

A few days ago, I and other Bloggers expressed our outrage at the treatment of the family of Ghurka Colour Sergeant Krishna Dura.

Killed in action just four days after Remembrance Day, his service quickly forgotten, his family threatened with deportation.

In a similar vein, I notice that today the MoD is finally doing the decent thing and introducing much greater compensation for those wounded in service. Something I applaud.

However, I also note that the sad story of C Sgt Dura's family has not even been mentioned by Pravda. A search of their news website reveals nothing of the plight of his widow and two young children.

Why? Why is the treatment of the widow of a Ghurka not considered newsworthy? Why haven't the mainstream media picked up on this and challenged it?

Why? Why? WHY?

The story about MoD Compensation has a 'Have Your (moderated) Say' field. I've left a comment asking about Colour Sergeant Dura. If that doesn't get through, I'll post another. And another. And another.

His name was Colour Sergeant Krishna Dura. He served his adopted country for sixteen years. Please go to the BBC page, comment and ask about his family. Let's keep doing so, until this story gets the attention it deserves.

UPDATE:

A quick update on this, with a hat-tip to Tim Worstall - for his research, if not his opinion.

Apparently, the family are not automatically granted leave to remain following the death of Colour Sergeant Dura - but they need to ask to remain and it is, apparently, almost certain to be granted (emphasis mine and his).

OK, that's lovely and I feel all fluffy now. Except for one small, teensy pointette.

This man gave sixteen years and latterly his LIFE in the service of this country. Why the hell should his family have to go cap-in-hand to the Home Office and ASK for the right to remain in their country of residence? This man served his country with a damn sight more honour than any bureaucrat, yet the bureaucrats have to grant permission to the wife and family of a hero.

Surely that right has already been earned the hard way?

Mr Twit the Statesman

So today, two world leaders meet at Downing Street.

One is the Prime Minister of a small, benighted nation with a collapsing economy, unemployment problems and a rising tide of violence in the nation, none of which he can cope with.

The other is the Prime Minister of Palestine.

Wonder if he could lend us a few quid?

Good Try!

Unfortunately 'George the White House Chimp' was quick enough to dodge.

For any other reporters attending press conferences, may I suggest the following as their footwear of choice?

For Life...

...not just for Christmas.

I am delighted to introduce Beetle (probably) - who chose us over the weekend, and who will be joining the family at Dungeekin Towers in mid-January.

Here you can see him effortlessly spotting the biggest softie in the house, and making sure that said softy chose him:

When Toilets Attack!

WARNING. CONTAINS DISBELIEF AND SWEARING AND SHOULD BE VIEWED ONLY UNDER RoSPA GUIDELINES AND UNDER ADULT SUPERVISION.

It's clear that RoSPA and Pravda don't listen to me.

From the worthies at Nanny Beeb: Toddlers' toilet seat crush peril

What the fuck. No, really, seriously, What. The. FUCK.

Money Quote:
"He called for more seats to be designed to fall slowly, and for heavier seats to be banned from households with young boys. "

Abolutely classic. You really couldn't make this nannying bullshit up if you tried.

Dr Joe Philip, of Leighton Hospital in Crewe: If you honestly feel that way, then it is my most sincere hope that you never breed, as I pity your children. If you already have been able to find a female insane enough to permit you to inseminate her, might I suggest placing your children naked in a large, hermetically-sealed oxygen tent, providing only scrubbed air and feeding them non-GM, organic baby food through a regularly-changed sterile tube?

You'll have to worry about bodily wastes however - and clearly given the terrible menace posed by the lethal household WC they can't use that. Catheterisation, perhaps?

Seriously though. You can't protect your kids from every potential menace in the house. If they're little, take them to the loo. It's what we do with our three-year-old. It's simple, it's effective and it requires only a modicum of responsibility on the part of a parent.

Everyone, stop. Just fucking STOP calling for things to be banned. IF (and with just 250 cases per year nationwide, it's a pretty big IF) little Johnny gets his knob clonked by a vengeful toilet seat, it won't kill him - nor is it likely to cause significant long-term psychological damage. It's one of those 'rites-of-passage' things into manhood, like getting it caught in his zip. Which he will do, as we all did. And he'll learn to pull back sooner, which could be a useful lesson in later life.

And thinking about it, if little Johnny takes said blow to the goolies, why on earth would you take him to hospital? It's a bruise. It hurts, and he'll cry. Admittedly it's not something Mummy can kiss better, but it's not exactly life-threatening, is it?

Or perhaps we should ban zips too? Sheesh.

Gordon The Third, Act One Scene One

(With the usual apologies to The Bard.)

Now comes another winter of discontent
Made gloriously worse by this son of the Manse
And all the clouds that lour'd upon our shores
Rain down the torrent grown by his mismanagement.
Now Darling's brows are bound with victorious wreaths;
Yet our bruised wallets can afford no monuments;
Our stern alarums changed to redundancy meetings,
Our dreadful march continues to utter bankruptcy.
Grim-visaged War still holds his wrinkled front;
Yet now, instead of mounting barbed steeds
to fright the souls of fearful adversaries
He capers nimbly in an unarmoured 'snatch' Landrover
To please the ego of one man's 'War on Terror'.

But he, that is not shaped for sportive tricks
Nor made to look like normal human form
He that is rudely-spoke, and wants intellect's majesty
Still struts before a wanton, grov'ling Cabinet.
He whose Budgets have lacked fair proportion,
Cheated us of truth by dissembling replies,
Ill-informed, unwitted, sent before his election
Into that Downing Street with scarce half a clue,
And that so lamely and dishonestly
That Germans laugh at him as he lectures them,
Has left us no delights to pass away the time,
Unless to spy him leaking to Nick Robinson,
And to be dismissive of his own insanity.

Forgotten

On 11 November every year, we remember those who have died in the uniform of this country. We honour the dead with wreaths of poppies, with the Last Post and with the words of Lawrence Binyon in our ears:

"They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun, and in the morning.
We will Remember them."

Unless, of course, you're the Home Office.

Colour Sergeant Krishnabahadur Dura, 36, of the 2nd Battalion The Royal Gurkha Rifles, was killed in action just four days after Remembrance Day. His sacrifice is remembered and rewarded by the Government as follows:

The Home Office are threatening to deport his wife and two children.

That is how our Government remembers those who serve this country with honour and pride.

Machiavelli and 'Looking For A Voice' are both leading on this, and I'm not surprised. Every time I think our Regime could sink no lower, they manage to plumb new depths.

I am revolted.

Please link this story and those of Machiavelli and 'Looking For A Voice'.

UPDATE: The MP for Colour Sergeant Dura's constituency is Julian Brazier TD MP. He is supporting the family's cause. Please show him your support.

'Three for Three'

I have, apparently, been Tagged by Danacea to Blog this particular meme. Oh joy.

So therefore, in a spirit of inter-Blogger loyalty, here are my Threes:

Top Three non-work Websites:

Twitter;

Guido Fawkes;

My Blog (for reading your comments).


Top Three Cocktails:

The Waterloo-Bridge Sunset
a heady blend of 2 parts methylated spirits and 1 part Buckfast Tonic Wine, topped up with urine and finished with a dash of Brasso. Serve at outdoor temperature, in a salvaged Starbucks cup.

The Tech-Support Screwdriver
14 parts Laphroig, served in a tall glass over the still-twitching body of the last luser to annoy you.

The Bloggertini
4 parts vitriol, 1 part research, 3 parts speculation and 1 part dishonesty, served over crushed grammar in a chilled RSS Reader.


Top Three Karaoke Songs:

'The Sound of Silence (is better than your wailing)' by When Can We Leave?;

'Silence is Golden' by Hope Over Experience;

'Sing it Again (And I Will Personally Tear Out Your Vocal Cords and Use Them To Tie Your Jaw Shut)' by Dungeekin


There. Done. Enjoy.

I tag:
GreyAreaUK;
Nuttycow;
LizS4ra
(If I have to suffer, you buggers can too...)

Say WHAT??

It appears that in all the hilarity and derision following Mr Twit's announcement that he'd 'Saved The World', we may have missed a far more serious act by the Rt. (dis)Hon Gentleman.

Iain Dale has been reviewing PMQs and noticed a subsequent comment, barely heard above the hubbub of Parliamentarians pissing themselves.

Did you hear it? Play it again, and listen carefully.

"Not a single depositor actually lost any money in Britain." (link is to the Hansard record of this comment).

Mr Dale thinks this is a lie - a 'Whopping Brownie', to be exact. I agree - at the very least, I think it was an (inadvertent?*) attempt to mislead the House.

For example, it does not take into consideration any depositors with investments in excess of £50,000 (with the exception of London Scottish investors, which could set a precedent. Even IF you were eligible to get all your money back, the Government itself have to stump up the cash - which is unlikely when they're skint. So they'll just give you your tax money back, then take it away in terms of higher taxes. And, of course, if you've got money in a failed business, you're likely to have no access to it until the administration process is over, and because only the capital sum is covered, if that takes six months you've lost the interest while you wait.

And what about those who have 'deposited' in a pension fund? The catastrophic drop in the FTSE 100, plummeting some 2000 points since this time last year? Change the term 'depositor' to 'investor'. It's merely a matter of semantics. The people who cannot take their retirement this year because they can't get a decent annuity or their pension fund has plummeted - haven't THEY lost out?

And let's not forget business depositors, who aren't really covered at all. Or don't they count in his weasel words?

So, I believe that Mr Twit should be called to account, and asked to explain his comment to the House and the Electorate. I'm therefore going to ask you all for a favour.

If you're reading this, please post the above clip on your own Blog, along with the following request to Downing Street:

"We call on the Prime Minister to make a statement clarifying his words in Prime Ministers' Questions, and to answer IN DETAIL how he can state that 'not a single depositor has lost money in Britain'."

PMQ's is a time for the Prime Minister to be held to account for his actions. He also needs to be held accountable for his words. Thanks for reading.

* Inadvertent. Yeah, right.

German Sense of Humour Found Shock!

Ladies and Gentlemen, despite years of rumour to the contrary, we discovered today that the Germans do, indeed, have a sense of humour.

Specifically, the German Finance Minister thinks Messrs Twit and Darling's 'spend money we haven't got' fiscal policy is absolutely hilarious.

Money Quote:

"Are you really going to buy a DVD player because it now costs £39.10 instead of £39.90?" he said.

"All this will do is raise Britain's debt to a level that will take a whole generation to work off."

So we now know that there's no end to Mr Twits' talents. Not only has he Saved The World, he's even managed to tickle the Teutonic funnybone. No easy trick.

Can you say 'schadenfreude'?

Gordon's Alive!

(To the tune of. . . ah, you know it.)

Crash! A-ah!
Saviour of the Universe
Crash! A-ah!
He's screwed everyone of us
Crash! A-ah!
He's a miracle
Crash! A-ah!
King of the Economy



He's for everyone of us
He dreams he's saved all of us
He saves with his mighty hand
Every bank, every business
And the World - he's a mighty
Crash!

Just a man
With a lack of courage
Nothing but a ditherer
As the country fails
No-one but the Cabinet
Thinks he hasn't failed....

Mr Twit has saved the world, apparently. Someone dispatch Warlock and Ajax to bring back his body.

Teasing the Thin-Skinned

Following on from 'Life to be Banned' - I was fortunate enough to find the Blog of the lady involved in the BBC's earnest 'Breakfast' discussion on the awfulness of 'Lads Mags' yesterday.*

Her latest post is a about sexist jokes in the (of course) male-dominated comedy industry. However, her mention of her BBC performance of course resulted in the thread being hijacked by commenters about Lads Mags.

So for grins and giggles, today I will mostly be taunting feminists. I have posted the below comment on the worthy lady's article, and am eagerly awaiting her response. . .

*****

For what it's worth, I'm not sure the act of appearing on a news discussion automatically confers the right to respect for your views. If it did, I'd have to be respectful to our Government.

However, what I take issue with somewhat more is the idea that something should be banned, simply because some people find it disagreeable.

I, for example, find Eastenders disagreeable in tone and content - in fact it frequently disgusts me. However, while I don't like the program it should not be banned simply because it provokes distaste.

While I also disagree with you that magazines such as 'Nuts' and 'Zoo' are pornography (they do aim for a particularly moronic demographic, but that's not the same as being porn), it's the principle of banning something because it offends a minority that is most offensive.

'Womens Interest' magazines are frequently castigated for instilling in young women a skewed sense of body image - perhaps they should be banned as well?

As a feminist, I'm sure you are incensed by religions that place women subordinate to men. Should we ban the Qu'uran?

Perhaps we should just ban EVERYTHING. That way none of us would ever be offended again.

However, the BBC debate was an interesting discussion (if pointless compared to real news events happening around the Globe), and I thank you for having the courage to stand up and make your point, even if I disagree with it.

Regards

D

*Hat-tip to Obnoxio for the link to Ms Smurthwaite.

UPDATE

A small update on this, as a thought has just occurred to me. If scantily-clad persons are pornography and thus should be banned, shouldn't we ban the WI Calendar?

Or, alternatively, the Dublin Fire Brigade Calendar?

Just asking....

UPDATED AGAIN!

I received a (reasonably) polite and thoughtful response from Cruella to my post. I have reproduced it, in full, in the comments, and would thank her for responding in the same tone to me.

The Cosmic and the Cataclysmic

There is a giant black hole at the centre of our Galaxy, exerting its gravitational field on everything orbiting it, sucking in matter and never again releasing it. It has the power to one day destroy our universe.

There is a giant ar*ehole at the centre of our Government. Round its gravitational field orbit insignificant MPs, and it sucks up tax revenues which never again return. It is doing a pretty good job of destroying our economy.

Life to be Banned with Immediate Effect

Hot on the heels of the recent announcement that tobacco is to become an under-the-counter commodity, and the condemnation of 'Lads mags', campaigners are celebrating the news that all products harmful to life are to be banned by the Government.

All foodstuffs are to be removed from shelves and will only be available under the counter, following revelations that salt can cause high blood pressure and sugar may have devastating impacts on teeth. Street sellers, of course, are already subject to bans and searches for promoting an unhealthy lifestyle.

Pregnancy magazines are to be withdrawn amid fears they may promote underage sexual activity, and 'lifestyle magazines' promoting cars or sports are also facing the axe as children may be encouraged to engage in hazardous activities like running, jumping or having fun outside.

Hilary Dour, from the pressure group 'Action Against Anything At All' said, "we welcome the Government's action on the harmful nature of life. The terrifying truth is, you have a 100% chance of contracting death when you engage in life. This statistic is horrifying and unacceptable, and cannot be allowed to continue. Won't someone please think of the children?"

Mizz Dour said there was no truth in the suggestion that if you ban something or reduce its public availability, it's just likely to become more popular with kids because its perceived naughtiness will be increased.

She added, "We will continue our campaign until all products and activities which could potentially be harmful are removed from children. Our next publicity drive is to ban air, because it contains potentially poisonous carbon dioxide!", at which point some nice gentlemen came to take her to a warm padded room while she railed wildly against the toxicity of Life.

A Government spokesman denied that there was a Home Office plan to fight back against the dangerous fatality of Life by banning it completely.

Oliver Postgate 1925-2008

Thanks for the programmes of my childhood, Sir.

Review - Limoncello, Abingdon 5 December 2008

Limoncello Restaurant

13, Ock St
Abingdon
Oxfordshire
OX14 5AL
Tel: 01235 530900

I like Italian food, but sometimes it can seem as if the myriad chains of Yet Another Generic Italian Restaurant are strangling real, quality Italian meals. So it's great to see a small, family-owned Italian restaurant in Abingdon doing so well.

Limoncello is situated on Ock Street in Abingdon, and despite it's proximity to the (frankly dire) Ask!, never seems to be lacking business. A nice touch is the plate of olives on the table from the outset, giving you something to nibble on while you peruse the menu without having to pay extra for it (as so many places do).

The food itself, while not spectacular, is good, honest fare, well-cooked and well-presented. I started with grilled sardines, which were lifted from the ordinary by a light mint dressing, and The Darling G's mussels were well complemented by their tomato, garlic and basil sauce.

For main courses, I chose a sirloin steak which was perfectly cooked - and the tomato, garlic and oregano sauce, while strong, was not overpowering. The Darling G went for a rack of lamb which was perfectly cooked for our tastes (though maybe a touch too rare for others), though its red-wine sauce was a little bland. The side dishes of saute potatoes, green beans, carrots and fried shredded courgette were well-cooked and tasty.

Service was quick, attentive and old-fashioned, with even the traditional large pepper-grinder coming out for every single course! I found myself wondering if they'd do the same for my espresso.

The whole meal was washed down with a pretty good bottle of house Red, and finished with a liqueur coffee for The Darling G and the ubiquitous double espresso for me (plus a couple of free Limoncellos!). The bill including drinks and service was a not-unreasonable £60.

So the conclusion? Don't bother with the execrable Ask!. Support a local business rather than a chain, walk a few yards up the road and eat at Limoncello.

No 10 Refuse to Deny Euro Entry Discussion

For those of a geeky persuasion, Twitter has become the app du jour. It's useful, quick, great for communicating short messages and has been picked up by many of the great and the good, including Stephen Fry, Robert Llewellyn, Iain Dale, Guido Fawkes and even John Cleese.

Of course, some of the great and less good use it too, including such luminaries as Tom Watson MP and the Spin Doctorate at Downing Street. And it's about the latter that I would like to talk.

It's important to understand that Twitter works best not as a broadcast medium, but as a conversation tool. It seems that the worthies at No 10 wish to use it to broadcast the many and varied achievements of Mr Twit, but aren't anywhere near as good at the second part - responding to questions from the Proles. Especially important questions.

Publicity message, 1530:

DowningStreet
PM has welcomed Nicolas Sarkozy and Jose Manuel Barroso to Number 10 for talks ahead of today's Global Europe conference on the economy. 21 minutes ago from web

My reply:

dungeekin

@DowningStreet: Please will you confirm, for the record, that UK entry to the Euro is NOT on today's agenda? 20 minutes ago from web in reply to DowningStreet


And so it continued. Me requesting a response every 30 minutes, getting nothing. I *know* they saw the stream, and the Direct Message with the same question. I know that they are official, releasing information on behalf of No. 10.

What's the point of using a communications medium if you only use it as a broadcast medium?

When you don't reply to a valid question, what we end up with is a refusal from the Downing Street Press Office to state, on the record, that UK entry to the Single European Currency was not discussed at today's meeting.

Still think we're not going to join? Or perhaps Downing Street would care to confirm, on the record, that UK Entry to the Euro was not discussed at the meeting?

Why I Love 'Anonymous' Commenters

When I set up The Diary, I thought long and hard about whether I should allow Anonymous comments. I feared I would be inundated with spammers (and that was partially true, but the 'delete' button works well for that). But in the end, I'm glad I did, because anonymous postings allow those in secure institutions to put down their crayons and pick up a keyboard, responding to this recent post thusly:

"They are going to get their pointless, spin-doctoring backsides kicked out come the next General Election."

Not so fast, mate. Have you checked the opinion polls recently? Tory lead down to 1%?

Election February 2009, Brown to win.

Put money on it.

OK, so I'm feeling like 'feeding the trolls' today, so let's just have a quick look at this.

"The opinion polls?" WRONG, Mr Anonymous! One opinion poll (from ComRes) which goes against the others. Rogue Poll? I don't know, but not enough to pin your electoral hopes upon. Unless, of course, you're a rabid, utterly deluded ZanuLieBore voter.

"Election February 2009"? Bring it on, Mr Anonymous. We'll be nicely into our Recession by then, with the Brown Regime completely out of avenues and the unemployement queues lengthening even faster than they are right now. Now I know that benefits claimants tend to vote LieBore in greater numbers than human beings do, but do you really think that those who have lost their jobs in recent months are going to say, "Yes, thank you Mr Brown for f***ing up my life, my kids' lives and my home - more of the same please."?

(Excuse me for a moment while I compose myself. The tears of laughter are making it hard to see the screen.)

"Put money on it". Er, Mr Anonymous, I already HAVE put money on it. My income tax, my National Insurance contributions, the duty on my fuel and other goods. I put money into the coffers of the Government expecting them to do the things that we, as individuals, cannot do for ourselves. The Brown Regime have failed to treat MY money - and that of every other taxpayer in this benighted nation - with the care and respect it should be accorded.

They have bankrupted the nation, harmed the reputation of the Mother of Parliaments, destroyed the education system, crippled the NHS and other public-sector employers with hobbling layers of Righteous (mis)management, and have provided only dishonesty, misrepresentation and spin.

Let them call a General Election. Let them call it in February 2009. Let them wait, and call it in Spring 2010. They will lose, and be consigned to the political wasteland they deserve.

So, dear 'Anonymous' - please, please do keep posting your comments, when the nurses let you out of the comfy room. They add a welcome note of hilarity to my day. Are you a personal friend of 'Dolly Draper', and the 'Rapid Rebuttal Unit', by any chance?

Sarkozy and PM in economy talks

So Nicola Sarkozy, Juan-Manuel Barroso and Mr Twit are to meet at Drowning Street today to 'discuss the economy'.

Not discussing Britain joining the Euro. Oh no, honest, would Mr Twit lie to you?

If you believe it won't be discussed, or that Brown isn't looking for a way to back-door us into the Single Currency without a referendum, then you probably believe the Speaker's Committee won't be a whitewash too. . .

The Prat who cut VAT

(With apologies to Dr Seuss)

Our pockets were bare,
We'd no money to play,
No food in the house,
and our mortgage to pay.

I sat there with Sally,
We sat there, we two,
and I said "how I wish
That we had voted Blue!"

To poor to go out,
Business gone to the wall,
So we sat in the house,
And did nothing at all.

And then. . . something went 'Bump'!
How that bump made us jump!

We looked - and we saw him step in on our mat!
We looked and we saw him!
The Prat who cut VAT!
And he said to us "why do you sit there like that"?

"I know that right now,
There's a shortage of money,
But we can have lots of good fun,
Because the UK's in a position of strength to weather the global economic downturn, with low debt and solid investment following the prudent actions of this Labour Government which has introduced a fair economic system and ensured reasonable taxation and eleventy-million Quarters of unprecedented economic growth and banished boom and bust and so you can do things which are funny!"


"I know some good games we could play",
Said the Prat.
"I know some new tricks",
Said the Prat who cut VAT.
"A lot of good tricks,
I will show them to you,
And never again will you.
Want to vote Blue".

"Look at me! Look at me now!" said the Prat,
"With a mountain of debt,
On the top of my hat!
I can prop up the Banks,
I can borrow some more,
I can offset your interest,
Give tax breaks to all!
I can give cash to Iceland,
While tax receipts fall!
And look! I can tell everybody I care,
As I generate borrowing out of thin air!"

And then he ran out
And then, fast as a fox,
The Prat who cut VAT
Came back in with a box.
A big red wood box,
It was shut with a hook
"Now look at this trick",
Said the Prat. "Take a look!"

"I will pick up the hook.
You will see something new.
Two things. And I call them
Thing One and Thing Two.
These Things will not bite you.
They want to have fun."
Then, out of the box
Came Thing Two and Thing One!
And they ran to us fast.
They said, "How do you do?
Would you like to shake hands
With Thing One and Thing Two?"









Thing Two and Thing One!
They messed up! They briefed down!
They made masses of laws
To tie all of us down!
They brought in ID cards,
Arrested MPs,
And they spent yet more money,
On each awful wheeze!

Then I cast out my Vote.
It came down with a PLOP!
And I had them! At last!
All these Things had to stop.
Then I said to the Prat,
"Now you do as I say.
You and Gordon pack up
And you go far away!"

"Oh dear!" said the Prat,
"You have worked out our game
Oh dear.
What a shame!
What a shame!
What a shame!"

Then he shut up the Things
In the box with the hook.
And the Prat went away
With a sad kind of look.

And Sally and I did not know
What to say.
Now the Prat who cut VAT
Had pissed the money away

We had voted about it,
But what could THEY do?
Our country was screwed
Even BY voting Blue.

The Ten Commandments of Mr Twit

So apparently the Dark Lord of the Sith Foy and Hartlepool thinks Mr Twit is like Moses!

Bill Quango MP points out that as Moses had people wandering around in the wilderness for 40 years, that may not be totally inaccurate.

He also points out that as Moses had his Ten Commandments, perhaps we would like to come up with a current set of Commandments for our Dear Leader? Well, your humble Author couldn't resist the challenge.

The Ten (un)Holy Commandments of Mr Twit

1. I am the Lord your Gord, Thou Shalt have no other Prime Ministers after Me;
2. Thou Shalt not make nor Worship Fake Political Parties;
3. Thou Shalt not take the name of your Lord Gord in Vain;*
4. Thou Shalt not work on the Sabbath, nor any other day if on Benefits;
5. Thou Shalt not respect thy Father and Mother, and instead respect the Benefits Office;
6. Thou Shalt not Kill. If thou so doest, thou shalt get an ASBO;
7. Thou Shalt not commit Adultery - that's John Prescott's job;
8. Thou Shalt not steal votes from your Lord Gord;
9. Thou Shalt not bear false Witness, nor leaketh information as that's our job;
10. Thou Shalt not covet Ed Balls' arse. That's mine.

*That's me going to Hell then.

Review: Wagamama Oxford, 30 November 2008

Wagamama
8 Market Street
OXFORD
OX1 3EF
phone : 01865 249 183

Noodles shouldn't really be interesting. However, visit Wagamama and I can assure you they will be!

Sited on Market Street, just far enough from Cornmarket to avoid the crowds of Japanese tourists and frantic Christmas shoppers, the cube-shaped exterior and large glass frontage hint at what's to come.

Inside, the blocky theme continues with chunky tables and bench seats, arranged not in the usual clusters of two and four but instead in long refectory-style formations. Of course, being British, we found a spot at a discreet distance from our co-diners.

As for the food - well, this is fast-food Japanese style. The food was very quick in coming, hot, tasty and well-presented, and with portions large enough to satisfy even my stomach.

The Darling G went for the Steak Soba (fried noodles) and I chose the Wagamama Ramen, a noodle soup with chicken, fish, mixed vegetables and the obligatory (pointless and tasteless) Tofu, my feelings on which are well documented. You can see the Ramen in the above photo, and I liked the quirky wooden soup spoon (though it actually made it impossible to eat the soup with any dignity!)

The cost of the meal was reasonable, at £31 including drinks and service. Green Tea was free, which was a thoughtful touch.

Overall, Wagamama Oxford is fun, funky and fast. A good destination for a quick and filling lunch when you're out and about, though personally I still prefer Yo! Sushi overall.

(This review is also published on Dungeekin's Eatings and on Qype).

Thankfulness and Questions

I had planned to spend this evening poring over every detail and nuance of the Police response to the Home Secretary, compare and cross-reference it against the Statement made by Mr Speaker, then gleefully point out that Gorbals Mick's pants were on fire.

However, thanks to the sterling work of Louise Bagshawe on Conservative Home, that isn't necessary.

As I'm therefore saved from a dull evening of research, and thus in a good mood, I of course won't make any accusations, nor suggest that Mr Speaker is a buck-passing, foolish, incompetent buffoon, and that I trust the veracity and detail of his Statement to the House about as much as I'd trust a starved Bengal Tiger with my toddler.

So instead, I shall turn to more interesting subjects - to wit, the awesome wondrousness that is Sitemeter.com.

I've been meaning to get some accurate stats going about the Blog - your (much-appreciated) comments got me wondering. So I registered with Sitemeter over the weekend, spent several days stressing about how I could be getting comments when Sitemeter said I had no visitors - installed the javascript I should have installed at the outset, then sat back to watch my stats.

Wow. I guess there's more of you than I thought.

I was particularly struck by the person who took the time and trouble - four hours, in fact - reading through all my archives. Thank you, whoever you are. I'm deeply flattered and I hope that you enjoyed the read.

So it's got me thinking - about how you came here, what you like about the Diary and, most of all, what you would like to see more of.

So, what I'd like to do is ask you all for a small favour. If you read this Blog, please would you take a couple of moments to post a Comment in reply to this post, letting me know where you found me from and what it is that you like about The Diary?

Thanks to you all for reading, and for making my day with your Readership.

Good News(ish)

Some Good News this morning from the European Court:

The European Court has done the decent thing and ruled it unlawful to retain the DNA of innocent people on the Police database. Currently, that (according to the Telegraph) stands at 850,000 records (including 40,000 children) of the 4.5 million DNA records on file.

No doubt The Brown Regime will find some way of keeping hold of that data - or of making it so unbelievably difficult to get it removed that most will give up and leave it there, weeping in frustration!

Besides, it'll pretty much be moot anyway - once they've got their legislation through in this Parliament for Police 'identity checks', that will open the door to compulsory ID cards - and can you guess what biometric they'll choose to encode upon the cards?

Your papers, Citizen?

Mr Twit in Downing Street

Have you ever read 'The Twits'? You really should.

Mr Twit is a nasty, underhand, odious individual, reeking with the stench of malicious intent. He's full of devious, dastardly schemes - and it's one of those schemes that I'd like to share with you today.

To play a trick on his (equally nauseating) wife, every night Mr Twit sneaks from his bed and affixes 'a tiny sliver of wood, no thicker than a penny' to the bottom of Mrs Twits' walking stick (and to the legs of her armchair). This change being so infinitesimally slight, Mrs Twit of course doesn't notice.

And so it continues, night after night, sliver following sliver, the walking stick getting longer and longer. Until one day, the stick reaches a length Mrs Twit has to notice - and he convinces her that she's contracted 'The Dreaded Shrinks' - and makes her suffer to 'cure' her.

Dear Reader - for Mr Twit read Gordon Brown.

Similarly devious and sly, Mr Brown has performed the same underhanded trick upon the denizens of this country. Each Budget has added a small sliver of extra taxation and a small sliver of extra borrowing. Each Queens Speech has added a small sliver of legislation to remove another small sliver of our Freedoms. Sliver mounting upon sliver. Each one too small really to notice - until here we are today.

Our Economy has 'The Dreaded Shrinks'. Our liberty is suffering from a near-terminal case of the same. Somehow I doubt Roald Dahl would be proud of the Prime Minister using one of his books as an instruction manual.

One can only dream that the Right Honourable Gentleman suffers the same fate as the fictional character.

I Know My Place :-)

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: thedarlingg@hercompany.com
Date: 2008/12/3
Subject: Re: Private Medical insurance renewal with BUPA
To: HR_Manager@hercompany.com
Cc: dungeekin@xxxxx.xx.xx

Hi there HR_Manager

Thanks for the information below. Could you please advise when and if I can add my partner to my personal policy? - I am assuming here that it can only be done at a certain time of the year.

Also - could you please confirm that "married" also applies to concubines?

Many thanks
The Darling G
---------- End Forwarded message ----------

Your humble Author is currently scouring eBay for yashmaks and booking a course in Belly Dancing.

S'Not My Fault, Guv. . .

Nah, really, honest, it wasn't me!

You saying it was me? You want a Glesga Kiss, ya bastid? It was the Serjeant-at-Arms. Blame her. I wasn't even there, honest, it's her fault. And the Police. Yep. Blame them.

S'not me, I didn't do it. Nobody saw me do it. You can't prove anything. And no, you can't ask me anything that isn't in the statement.

Guardian of Parliamentary Democracy? Nah, not me. You want someone else, I'm not responsible. I just sit up here like the lazy, gormless Gorbals detritus that I am. Responsibility? I toldja, I was out of the country. Er. Somewhere else. Nothing to do with me.

Debate? Yeah, let's have one. Sometime in the future. No, I can't organise it. No, I really can't.

Blame someone else, coz it wasn't me.

Honest, Guv. Would I lie to you?

Tofu - The Taste(less) Sensation!

Now I like my food, as is evidenced from my frequent restaurant reviews. And my tastes are pretty broad - there's very little that I won't eat (other than andouillette, but I think that's a French joke perpetrated on tourists anyway).

But try as I might, I just don't get Tofu.

I know what it is. I know how it's made, and it seems like a very labour-intensive process to create something that tastes of - well, absolutely nothing at all.

I just don't get it.

I can understand why, in the days of starving Oriental peasantry, this may have seemed like a viable option - a substitute for absent meat that, if you half-closed your eyes and really concentrated, you might even mistake for a cube of chicken - but then you put it in your mouth and any illusion is dispelled. You're essentially munching upon a very healthy piece of nothing at all. Yuk.

I just don't get it. If you're THAT desperate to eat something with tofu's taste and texture, may I recommend a handful of polystyrene packing chips? There's little difference in flavour, and it's a lot less labour-intensive to produce.

Review of Wagamama Oxford, who perpetrated the Tofu Outrage upon me, will follow shortly.

Your Papers, Citizen?

Today sees one of the greatest traditions of our Constitutional Monarchy - the State Opening of Parliament.

Of course, given the current news it's worth noting that the doors of the Commons are slammed in the face of Black Rod following Charles I's attempt to arrest Members of Parliament. . . But more on that later.

As always, a great deal of the content of the Queen's Speech has already been leaked (with no arrests so far), and one small detail from Sky's coverage caught my eye:

Police will be given powers to stop people on the street and demand proof of identity - even if there are no grounds to suspect they have committed an offence.

So there you have it, folks. Confirmation - after today's Queen's Speech, The Brown Regime will be abandoning any pretence of British Freedom, and will be instituting their dream of a Police State.

Do you still believe that ID Cards won't be compulsory?

The Footage

Presented, without comment, from Webcameron:

Not Sacked - So What?

Yesterday, news sources were reporting that the unrepentant Mzzz Sharon Shoesmith of Haringey Social Sandalistas, had been removed from her posts. Many sites, including Pravda, spun this (at the time) as the lady concerned being sacked.

Turns out that she hasn't been sacked. She's been suspended - on FULL PAY.

So she'll get a nice paid holiday courtesy of the taxpayer, Haringey will wait till all the outrage blows over, and she'll quietly resume her post with (perhaps) a slap on the wrist.

This is justice for outrageous failure - resulting in the torture and death of a CHILD - in modern Britain.

It makes you want to weep.

Balls - I complimented you yesterday. I said you'd grown a pair. Clearly I was mistaken, and you're still the neutered, gutless, cowardly invertebrate I have always taken you for. No doubt your response to this will be "So What". But I hope the face of Baby P haunts you every time you look in a mirror after your craven actions.

Go Green, Whatever Your Political Colour.

Via Machiavelli, Tory Bear and The Freedom Association.

Apparently MPs are planning on wearing green ribbons to show their support during the Queen's speech on Wednesday. If you have a blog, website or even a Facebook page then please add this ribbon to it.

This isn't party political. This is about the Freedoms we all enjoy, and most importantly the freedom of the political Opposition to hold the Government to account. Whatever the colour of your rosette, please offer your support.

Otherwise - before you know it there'll be no freedom left in once-Great Britain.

Cowards

So the Leader of Haringey Council and one of his sandalista henchpersons have resigned today, Just as the report into the failings of the Council concerned in the case of Baby P was handed to Ministers.

With the number of 'failings' there were in this awful case, the report probably weighs about the same as a small car.

Hmm. Resignation. Which, of course, means the following:

• No facing the music for their actions;
• No public censure because the report won't name 'former employees';
• They keep their pension rights;
• They get to apply for whichever limp-wristed, child-failing council is currently short of a couple of Grauniad-reading socialist morons - and have 'experience' on their CV.

'Experience', of course, carefully NOT meaning 'experience of sitting on our politically-correct hands and handing out the benefits while a child was tortured to death on our watch'.

Their actions today aren't laudable - they're an act of utter cowardice. Their resignations should be refused - and they should be held accountable, disciplined, stripped of their public-sector payouts and sacked like the useless droids they clearly are.

Cowards both. No doubt more will run away from accountability as the days progress.

UPDATE:

Hat-tip to LizS4ra for passing me this titbit from, of all places, the Grauniad! Apparently Balls has grown a pair and sacked Shoesmith. Wonders will never wossname.

I am doing the Dungeekin Happy Dance™ at this development.