Will Dave make it to the end? It's not "the vision thang" with Dave, he doesn't have any, but the judgment thing. I suppose, in retrospect, the first doubts arose before he even entered No. 10 when he hired the ex-editor of The News of the World to be his main spokesman. I remember thinking at the time, The News of the World - uuurgh - The Times, possibly; The Independent, maybe; The Telegraph, perhaps; but the good, old 'Screws' - never! Anyway, that was but the first of a series of misjudgments which have culminated in the long-overdue despatch of Andrew Mitchell whose only claim to fame appears to be his ability to drag down even further the contempt in which most of us hold politicians. He should have been marched into No. 10 the next morning and in brusque, Clem Attlee-style told to get on his bike - and use the proper exit! Dave funked it and now he's paying for it and, even worse, his own party, already aware of his general uselessness, are beginning to realise that he is an electoral disaster. It can only be a matter of time - watch this space . . .
If Romney loses: 'MDA2' which stands for 'My Darling Andra' and has the numerical suffix to differentiate her from 'MDA1' (My Darling Ann [Coulter]) poses a question in a thread below: when Romney doesn't win ... what then? Well then, MDA2, America will go to hell in a handcart and you, as an Australian living in the southern Pacific will either have to seek about for new powerful friends - and don't ask me where - or learn to speak Chinese! At home, Obama, with nothing now to lose, will let loose the Democrat dogs of big spending and constitutional tampering with catastrophic results. And to put the final seal on it, Obama will choose the next one or two Supreme Court Justices who will set his Marxist ideas in stone for a generation. The good news' is that he will not win. As I have said since the last Congressional elections two years ago, he's dead man walking!
Crime stats down - you're 'avin' a laugh! At sometime during this week I heard an item on the news that crimes stats in the UK were down across the board. What I would really like to do is meet the solitary man, woman or, more likely, child, who actually believes any stats issued by this government but in particular the crime stats. They, in particular, are the most ragged, bagged and shagged set of numbers in the entire government machine. It starts at the very bottom of the imput process in which the various police forces throughout the land duck and dive with the full connivance of their Chief Constables, a bunch of self-interested, self-promoting chancers I wouldn't trust with a two times table. The results then go to the "not fit for purpose" Home Office and after that they don't stand a chance.
My bottom: Yes, I know, not the most prepossessing subject to contemplate over your Sunday breakfast (or is it lunch, you lazy sods?) but it gets even worse because it is actually what emanates from my bottom that is the real subject. I know, I know, it might not be something you wish to know about but Her Majesty's National Health Service are tremendously interested and have kindly sent me a special pack with instructions and little cardboard sticks with which to lovingly take samples to send back to them for inspection. I hasten to add that there is absolutely nothing wrong with my bottom, or its contents, but apparently my age has triggered this enquiry. As a less than sympathetic friend remarked, "Well, if it's your shit they're interested in, tell 'em to read your blog!"
The Head of the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) is a pillock! To be honest, I'm not absolutely sure what a 'pillock' is so I looked it up. According to the OED it is "a stupid person" which is what I meant but its archaic origin comes from "pillicock, a penis"! Anyway, it's nice and rude and above all - insulting! At this point my innate sense of fairness intercedes which it tends to do from time to time thus ruining many a good rant. The fact is that I have no idea who the head of the CPS is and anyway, he or she is not to blame, it's those 'pillicocks' (and their female equivalents) in Parliament who deserve the insults for it was they, in their infinite dimwittedness, who made a crime out the very fine, old, British tradition of insulting. I have become dimly aware (look, I've told you lot before, I do the jokes!) that various mouth-breathers using a public communications system called 'Twitter' which confines your comments to a tiny number of words - to the relief of the afore-said mouth-breathers - have been arrested and charged in the courts, so the Head of the CPS does share some of the blame. These alleged miscreants have not been urging violence or racist attacks against anyone, all they have done is publish moronic grunts - to call them 'thoughts' is to stretch meaning too far - usually in extremely bad taste. For this the 'Old Bill' are suddenly galvanised and whilst incapable of catching or stopping your average burglar they are right on the case of some dimwit who helps them by providing an identity - and it improves their stats no end! Brenden O'Neill, editor of Spiked has an excellent article on this over at Reason.
At last, some words of wisdom here at D&N: No, no, not from me, come on, you should know better than that! No, these, courtesy of Cafe Hayek are from a very wise old bird, indeed, a man who had an enormous influence on my hesitant tiptoes into philosophy and science - Karl Popper:
There is, first, the classical myth, vox populi vox dei, which attributes to the voice of the people a kind of authority and unlimited wisdom. Its modern equivalent is faith in the ultimate common-sense rightness of that mythical figure, ‘the man in the street’, his vote, and his voice. The avoidance of the plural in both cases is characteristic. Yet people are, thank God, seldom univocal; and the various men in the various streets are as different as any collection of V.I.P.s in a conference-room. And if, on occasion, they do speak more or less in unison, what they say is not necessarily wise. They might be right, or they might be wrong.
On this Sunday morning, here endeth the first lesson - and what a corker!
ADDITIONAL - A 'MUST READ': Do not, under any circs, miss Chapter One of Anna Raccoon's life story.