In brief: yer all savages

I’m not one to defend the general British public (see forthcoming entry on culture when it, erm, forthcomes) but I feel that I should get my spake in, albeit briefly, about this.

BBC Newsnight presenter Jeremy Paxman has described the British public as “barbarians” who are too busy working to find time to appreciate art.

I’m not a huge fan of Paxman’s, it has to be said, for I find him more much more offensive and condescending than I do challenging and interesting, and the above strikes me as a typical statement of his.

Here are a few simple sums for you Mr. Paxman: earnings of £XX,000 per year, X children, £XXX,000 mortgage, and £XX,000 in car loans/ student loans/ credit card and other debts don’t leave many of us with whole lot of Xs to play around with. We work all the time, just to make our ends meet. And you wonder why we plebeians spend all of our time working and little of our time perusing art galleries? We’re flipping exhausted!

I would have thought it was f-ing obvious, even to a snob like you who makes considerably more Xs than the rest of us put together, and who doesn’t have to worry at all about where his next paycheck comes from or goes to.

TfTd

I always listen to Radio 4 in the mornings on my way to work. I’m in that demographic now, don’t you know. I’m nearly always leaving as ‘Thought for the Day‘ begins. For those of you unfamiliar with Thought for the Day it is, as the link says, ‘reflections from a faith perspective on issues and people in the news’. I think it would be more accurately described as patronising and sanctimonious reflections from God-bothers full of their own self-importance, but anyway. I find it insufferable.

This morning the Reverend Doctor Middle Class and Vaguely Disgruntled was doing his piece. He started off by recounting a tale of how he tried to help a young lady with her suitcase onto the bus. She declined his offer, and brushed his hand away when he offered again. This reaction, he blamed, on women’s constant quest for equality. If it wasn’t for the equality gained so far, he implied, women wouldn’t think twice about accepting help from a man. He tried to redeem himself, of course, by talking then about the disparities in earnings of men and women – and in doing so ‘approved’ of our pesky feminism – and then came back to the quandary of women not allowing men to help them when they clearly need it.

Seriously, Reverend Doctor Middle Class and Vaguely Disgruntled? Really? If I give you the benefit of the doubt for a moment, and believe that you genuinely thought that telling a story about a woman ‘in need’ would be a good introduction to a discussion about equal pay rights, I have to tell you that you’re a little naive. I know a lot of women – and I’m one myself – and I’m pretty sure that most of us don’t spend our time declining offers of help from men because we’re obsessed with equality. If you really need to know, I rather think that we women feel that it’s intrusive to be approached by strange men offering help (or anything else), that it can often be intimidating to be approached in such a manner, and that we decline because we feel uncomfortable and we would rather not have you near us or our suitcases. Is that unfortunate? Of course it is. In an ideal world, we would all be helping each other carry our butterflies and rainbows around; in a realistic world, we react as we do because we’re conditioned to do so by what we see around us. It’s got nothing to do with equality, or its lack.

But I’m not going to give you the benefit of the doubt. I think that for all your talk of equal pay for the sexes and of narrowing the employment gap, you think we women have got too much equality already. You gave your game away when you mentioned that ungrateful young woman twice in three minutes. You’re thinking, I’m sure, that she should have been happy to take help from you, the Big Man, instead of trying to assert her independence when she was so clearly in need. But the world, thankfully, doesn’t work your way any more. Perhaps the next time you pipe up on Thought for the Day, you’ll remember that it’s not all about you, and that women don’t spend  their waking moments trying to figure out how to get their equality points higher at the expense of people like you.

Naughty little peers, they are

I’m only really posting this because it makes me laugh. Not because I care enormously about it one way or t’other.

Peers respond to cash allegations

Two of the Labour peers at the centre of claims they were ready to take cash to change legislation have responded to the allegations in the House of Lords.

If there was ever a reason to reconsider the effectiveness of the structure of Parliament in this country, then surely this is it. You don’t need a moral conscience when you’ve got vaguely royal blood, it seems.

On the way home this evening, I heard Radio 4 play a recording of Lord Taylor’s conversation with the Times in which he discussed a bribe, followed by Lord Taylor telling the House of Lords that he doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong. The juxtaposition was priceless.

In his defence, he did sound a bit dottery. Well, when he was addressing the Lords anyway. Less so when he was talking cold hard cash. Frankly, I feel he was selling himself cheap for a grand. Apparently, he often gets offered £25,000 to pull a few strings. Marvellous!

Who wants to bet me 20p that the Lords in question get away with it? That’s how it rolls here, no?

If you don’t fancy that game, play this one instead. Get more metaphors into one paragraph than Lord Strathclyde does here. I don’t think it’s possible, myself.

“This House has been mired in a grim torrent of criticism about a culture of sleaze,” he told peers. “If these allegations are true those involved have shamed this House,” he said, adding there were no “grey areas in the paid advocacy rules”.

I love politics.

In brief: it’s an either/ or scenario

Ben Bradley (a friend of the late John F Kennedy) on Radio 4’s Today programme yesterday morning:

Jack [referring to JFK on his election] was half Irish and half an educated and sophisticated man. And he wasn’t sure which one he wanted to be yet. He hadn’t decided which one he wanted to be.

Because, clearly, you can’t be both.

We love the casual racism.

Oh…

… President Obama, I do love you. I don’t care that you noticeably paused for applause and greatly overdid the rhetoric in places; that’s how you Americans do things, and we’re all used to it by now.

You’re still my new hero.

Full text if you missed it.

Boy stabbed. Sister actress makes news.

Another stabbing in London. Yes.

But does it strike anyone else as strange that Ben Kinsella’s death has become more about his ex-Eastenders actress sister than him?

The Mirror: EastEnders star Brooke Kinsella in emotional tribute to murdered brother

BBC: Sister’s tribute to ‘true angel’

The Sun: Stabbing grief of EastEnders star Brooke

The Telegraph: Ben Kinsella, brother of EastEnders actress Brooke Kinsella, is murdered

Sky: Actress Pays Tribute To ‘True Angel’

Daily Mail: EastEnders star’s tribute to murdered brother as she begs for end to knife epidemic

Guardian: Brother of actor is 12th teenage stab victim

The Times: Actress Brooke Kinsella’s brother is London’s latest knife victim

I’m not really sure what that’s about, but it makes me feel very cynical and uneasy. When I walked past the newstand in Tesco this morning, I saw her face five or six times. I saw his once.

Protected: Nightmare in dreaming spires

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England, England

Now, as An Irish ™, I’m not terribly bothered about what the Rough Guide says about the English, but I do live here, and as such I find myself objecting to these claims.

Apparently…

England is a nation of “overweight, alcopop-swilling, sex- and celebrity-obsessed TV addicts”, according to a new tourist guide book.

The latest edition of the Rough Guide says no other country is as “insular, self-important and irritating”.

…

On the one hand, “a genuine haven for refugees” with immigrants from more than 100 ethnic backgrounds, but on the other, “a deeply conservative place”.

England and the English have their faults, I don’t disagree, but surely this little island is no worse than anywhere else. I wonder if the writers of this guide have visited Alabama recently, for there you would surely find ‘deeply conservative’. Yes, they’re right that the English have become celebrity-obsessed (although I wouldn’t count that as one of their main features) but what’s all this about ‘irritating’? And obsessed with sex? Really? Where?

I read things about the very fabric of England’s society disintegrating every day, but I like to think that I’m able to separate fact from fiction, and mass hysteria from objective facts. Perhaps these writers simply aren’t. I’m offended on behalf of the English. This guide is unfair; and more importantly, it’s just wrong.

If you agree, you can have your say here. Although look out for comments such as those by Keith Hutchinson:

The most accurate description of this country yet. the only other term to add would be cesspit.

Pierre Francois:

Yes, I do believe this report is accurate. I happen to find British totally uncultured. Their heads of state are politically correct puppets without any moral backbone. The heir to the throne is confused over his own identity as to whether he’s Christian or not, and wishes to be “Defender of all faiths”. The British have no moral code of conduct within their culture. It is the ONLY country in the world that has problems with anti-social behaviour, and your accent defines your class.

And smitgw6079 (who’s used the opportunity to have a racist rant):

This is what happens to a country when all it’s traditional values are obscured by a multitude of other cultures.

Everyone but the real criminals are treated with suspicion, and we’re then rendered poweless (sic) to change anything by this idiotic government.

Instead of complaining about it, it’s time to change things ourselves.

[Link to the full BBC piece.]

Now listed as missing

It’s the aspect of Facebook I like least, I think (notwithstanding the alleged CIA/ KGB/ IRA/ FBI/ SNP involvement). I’m referring, of course, to that little box on your profile which tells the whole world – or at least those people in your whole world who have access to your profile – whether you’re coupled up or not. I wouldn’t mind that so much, if it weren’t for the ease with which Facebook informs anyone who’ll listen that you’re no longer coupled up and are now, in fact, SINGLE.

Every day on my Facebook ‘news’ feed, I see the words: Charlene Bloggs is now listed as ‘in a relationship’ and Charlie Doe is now listed as ’single’. I always ask myself two things: ‘again?!’ and ‘why is it always indicated by a little heart, no matter the outcome?’.

Nowadays, I long for the times when Charlene getting herself a lad (or a lass), and Charlie returning to singledom for a while, were more private affairs, but it seems we’ve gone beyond that now. I somehow resent reading about my friends’ most intimate stories on a stark white page, even if they did choose to put them there themselves. It’s clinical in a very 21st century way; we don’t even need to sympathise any more.

But most of all I think about those who are surely, every day, dumped by Facebook. It must be quite something to log on of a morning only to find that you’ve returned to your own singledom, and that you’re very likely the last to know about it.

I was dumped on Facebook. (Sorry about the Torygraph link there, peeps.)

Spare us the ‘People’s Prostitute’ routine…

I know that this piece is over a year old, but it incensed and upset me yesterday when I read it.

The background to this is that five prostitutes were murdered in the south of England in 2006. (The case is currently being heard in the local crown court in Ipswich, and here is a link to comprehensive coverage of the case if you’re interested.) This piece in the Daily Mail Bigot was written by a particularly charming gentleman called Richard Littlejohn. The full text of the piece is posted below.

Let’s get the caveat out of the way from the off. The five women murdered in Ipswich were tragic, lost souls who met a grisly end. I sincerely hope whoever killed them is caught, charged and convicted.

No one with a shred of humanity would wish upon them their ghastly lives and horrible deaths. But Mother Teresa, they weren’t.

And I know this might sound frightfully callous in the current hysterical, emotional climate, but we’re not all guilty.

We do not share in the responsibility for either their grubby little existences or their murders. Society isn’t to blame.

It might not be fashionable, or even acceptable in some quarters, to say so, but in their chosen field of “work’=”, death by strangulation is an occupational hazard.

That doesn’t make it justifiable homicide, but in the scheme of things the deaths of these five women is no great loss.

They weren’t going to discover a cure for cancer or embark on missionary work in Darfur. The only kind of missionary position they undertook was in the back seat of a car.

Of course their friends and families are grieving. That’s what friends and families do. But they should also be asking themselves if there was anything they could have done to prevent what happened.

If you discovered your daughter had gone on the game to feed her heroin habit, wouldn’t you move heaven and earth to get her off it?

Frankly, I’m tired of the lame excuses about how they all fell victim to ruthless pimps who plied them with drugs. These women were on the streets because they wanted to be.

We are all capable of free will. At any time, one or all of them could have sought help from the police, or the church, or a charity, or a government agency specifically established to deal with heroin addicts. They chose not to.

The tortuous twistings of the sisterhood over the past week have been a joy to behold. The 30-yearold Spare Rib T-shirts have been brought out of mothballs and we’ve been treated to the All Men Are Bastards/Rapists/Murderers mantra from assorted Glendas who ought to be old enough to know better.

We’ve heard the well-rehearsed arguments for legalised and regulated prostitution, as if we were living under the Taliban. The fact is, we’ve already got de facto legal brothels on every High Street.

They’re call saunas or massage parlours.

As I remarked when the Labour MP Joe Ashton was once caught in a Siamese “sauna” in Northampton, he must have been the only man in Britain ever to go to a massage parlour for a massage. It doesn’t get much more glamorous than that.

These five women were on the streets because even the filthiest, most disreputable back-alley “sauna” above a kebab shop wouldn’t give them house room.

The men who used them were either too mean to fork out whatever a massage parlour charges, or simply weren’t fussy. Some men are actually turned on by disgusting, drug-addled street whores. Where there’s demand, there’ll always be supply.

This wasn’t a case of women going on the game to put bread on the table, or to look after their “babies”. That’s what the welfare state is for. They did it for drugs.

The gormless Guardianistas simply refuse to confront this blindingly obvious reality. They would rather deify celebrity druggies such as Kate Moss and Will Self than face the truth that hard drugs wreck lives.

What I find most objectionable about all this is the attempt to make us all feel responsible for the murders. There is a nasty whiff of Lady Di about the enforced mood of mourning, with even the Old Bill coming across like hand-wringing archbishops.

At Ipswich Town’s home game on Saturday, there was a minute’s silence. We were supposed to believe that this was a true reflection of the community’s sympathy.

I don’t buy it. Most people went along with it in the spirit of emotional correctness and through fear of getting their heads kicked in if they didn’t.

There was only one thing missing, but don’t bet against it.

When Blair gets back from saving the Middle East, don’t be surprised if he turns up at the funeral of one of these unfortunate women to deliver a lip-trembling, tear-stained eulogy: “She was the People’s Prostitute”.

Now, Littlejohn is a notorious little prick, we all know, but let’s have a look (under the jump) at what he’s really saying.