Think of the children (if you must)

Often I can barely bring myself to look at the Guardian in printed form. Today's edition was an excellent example of that - a large strapline advertising a supplement devoted to children's health. Individually the two would be smutty and contemptible, but together they are terrible indeed.

I take this sanctimonious health puritanism as a sign that we are approaching the most depressing time of year. It seems that the only sensible precaution is to cock a snook at the Graun's sanctimonious puritans and drink and gamble round the clock. (A digression: the Daily Hate is also deeply hostile to Tessa Jowell's plans for punting and pints. Surely if both rags are against something, it must be a good idea?)

But for those of you unfortunate enough to have children, I have devised an exercise regime to keep the little darlings busy while you are sipping dry martinis down the casino and, I flatter myself, it is potentially of immense value to society.

1) The treadmill. From my excursions among the mass of populace, I have noticed that children have a great love of running around while screaming. I propose the setting up of giant treadmills rigged up to the electricity grid. This will not only give the children a supervised outlet for their surplus energies, but will significantly reduce greenhouse gases, thereby giving future generations a cleaner world in which to live.

2) Send them up chimneys. Not only does this develop supple limbs, it revives and ancient tradition (I rather like the idea of living in a Regency timewarp) and tallies nicely with the prevailing view of education as a means towards the production of economically useful units. Why not start a lifetime of hard work early. (Those of you from the criminal classes could always train the little dears to work as pickpockets.

3) Demolition work. Put a group of children together and the collective mentality is that of a group of Apaches descending upon a convoy of covered wagons. Why not let the play with the TV and DVD player? They won't be stuck indoors goggling* at the box after they've finished Or, better, give them the run of a fast food restaurant. Let them wreck the place, we'll hear less about obesity afterwards.

4) Take them fox-hunting. Another solution to the vexed issue of hunting with dogs. Children delight in cruelty, so why not set them to giving Mr Fox a sound thrashing?

5) Military pre-school. (I borrowed this idea from a throwaway PJ O'Rourke gag, but it might be time to take it seriously.) With Mr Bush looking to sort out more of the rogues and villains of this world it's probably a good idea to start training them now.

I think that's enough for starters. If you let the little chaps give these a go, do please let me know how they get on. I believe there is an election in the UK soon and if these work, I might be obliged to offer myself to the electorate. If Tony Blair doesn't pinch these ideas first, that is.






* Orginally I wrote googling. Truely I am a slave to the computer.

Hot teens stripping

This is, of course, a shameless attempt to attract more hits via Google with a story attached to it. Are there no depths to which I will not sink? Well, yes there are. I dislike ending sentences with prepositions.

First we take Folkestone, then we take Berlin

Often one can sympathise with those 19th century figures (including many progressive and radical figures) who opposed universal suffrage on the grounds that many people were too ill-informed, volatile and, well, just too dangerous to be given the vote. Although there have subsequently been many working class movements led by well-informed, articulate and passionate people, Robert Kilroy-Silk's success in the European elections (to say nothing of the ongoing parade of lunatics in Northern Ireland votes) would have suggested, would it not, that people who spend their lives watching lowest common denominator TV are - you've got it - somewhat ill-informed, volatile and dangerous when it comes to electoral matters. Fortunately the current system excludes people too lazy and dim to vote, long may it last, says I.

So what were ITV thinking of when they launched their "politics idol" show for people who can't be arsed to go to a polling station but will vote early and vote often for the latest idiot talent show. Semi-predictably, the winner of Vote for Me, was a man even the channel describes as a "comedy fascist" - convicted fraudster Rodney Hylton-Potts. His manifesto includes: no more immigration, castration for paedophiles and the legalisation of drugs. His opponents have suggested that his views would make the BNP blanche.

It's hard to know who looks more idiotic: ITV for its belief that "we are the chavsters of England and we have not spoken yet" is a great basis for a TV show (note also their rather feeble defence: “It’s not embarrassing that he won because we’ll now respect our real politicians more.”); the people who voted for the blighter or Hylton-Potts himself.

How on earth does he expect to reduce the population of Britain by one third within 25 years? Either he has grievously miscalculated the number of darkies he needs to deport (unless the 15% of the population which consists of godless whites who refused to define themselves by religion are also to be booted out - where to?) or else he will need to follow the Pol Pot guide to population control.

But this cunning political mastermind has now come up with the perfect way to advance his agenda: he is standing against Michael Howard (majority: 5,907).
PA News reports him as saying "I don't know whether I can win. That is for the experts.
"But what I'm certain about is that Michael Howard will lose.
"The UKIP are likely to stand against him and they seem quite bullish but I think it will take me to do it. I think it is goodbye Michael for this seat."

Perfect way to advance an anti-Europe, anti-immigration agenda: let the Lib Dems win.

Flogging a dead horse

Afterthoughts on the Harry Nazi thing: with the peace process in Northern Ireland going through a bit of a sticky patch, with even the Irish Times abandoning its policy of "constructive journalism" I'm happy to step into the breach. (And unlike the Irish Times you don't have to pay to read this online).

In this spirit, surely we can find some common ground between the British Royal Family and the Shinners.

Lacking the Fuhrerprinzip?

One of the most popular internet myths is that James Hewitt is Prince Harry's real father. Hewitt himself insists that the affair began after Harry's birth, but many people are reluctant to let this spoil their fun. But lest there be in doubt that Harry is the grandson of the Duke of Edinburgh and the inheritor of those Hanoverian military gene, the following should resolve all doubts:

From PA News
Prince Harry tonight apologised after being pictured in a Nazi uniform at a fancy dress party.
The Sun’s front page showed the Prince, with a cigarette and drink in hand, wearing a swastika armband.
The newspaper said he had attended a fancy dress party in the uniform of a fascist soldier.
In a statement, the Prince said: "I am very sorry if I caused any offence or embarrassment to anyone. It was a poor choice of costume and I apologise."

Great timing with the 60th anniversary of the liberation of the concentration camps coming up.

Then there comes the usual rentagob MP:
Doug Henderson, Labour MP for Newcastle upon Tyne North and a former armed forces minister, said Prince Harry should not now be allowed to become a British Army officer.
"After the revelations this evening I don’t think this young man is suitable for Sandhurst," he said.
"If it was anyone else the application wouldn’t be considered. It should be withdrawn immediately."

But this would have deprived the armed forces of men of the calibre of Keith Moon. How could that be right?

They're at it again

Not content with invading Iraq, I'm sorry to report that the British government is planning another flagrant breach of international law. In this case, I'm sorry to report it involves pumping money into some of the most corrupt countries on earth (who can't be trusted not to spend it all on dodgy military matters). Worst of all, if this article is any guide, the British plan will be done in defiance of the international rules that are supposed to govern states' behaviour.

The UN should do something.

The Kulturkampf continues

We are always told that one of the great things about blogging is its ability to provide instant news and reaction to almost anything (see tedious newspaper columns passim).

So in that spirit here's something it's taken me a few days to getting around to: Cork's apotheosis as Europe's Cultural Capital. Saturday's opening featured the usual tedious bits of officialdom; street carnival; John Spillane singing a song which rhymed 'Farranree' with 'see', 'history' and 'country' (those present at the ceremony complained they couldn't hear a thing, lucky them); the rather Wagnerian image of a serpent rising from the River Lee (I stayed indoors to watch it on TV) and fireworks (great stuff, right outside my window).

You would have to be more of a sneering cynic than I am to hope the thing flops, although worries about the tiny budget, lack of information made available to the public (every household was supposed to receive a calendar of events last year. I'm still waiting for mine) and lack of advertising (hands up anyone outside of Ireland who knew about it) won't go away, you know.

One imagines that the unofficial aspects will provide many of the highlights, but as long as I remain in Cork, I shall be more interested in contenders for the following:

The Cork 2005 Seamus Brennan Messiah XXI Memorial Award.

The award will honour any cultural event which takes councillors, social workers or the Irish Times as its muse. You can all imagine the sort of thing, I'm sure: patronising, pretentious, ill-thought out, tediously worthy, overly official or just plain idiotic. It'll have to be something pretty special to outdo the updated Messiah which the Irish government commissioned to mark the millennium, however.

Anything involving Riverdance is also to be condemned, but in stronger terms.

One early contender: Culture in the hospitals. Ah, dying are you? Let me tell about Janacek before you go. (Note also the great planning that sees them scrambling to fill the post now).

I also gather that the lord mayor is planning to visit Irish peacekeepers in Liberia, not to boost their morale or thank them for their work, but to promote the city of culture thing. That sounds a likely contender.

Now that Jerry Springer's out of the way

I wish to protest about another grossly offensive, so-called opera which is being aired a once-reputable British public body.

This work features incest, extreme violence and ultimately challenges divine power over earth.

I hope that all-religious minded people will condemn this shocking exhibition.

New Year advice

At this time plenty of people who have pigged out over the holidays try to lose weight. Fortunately for those who haven't worked out that the trick is to eat less and exercise more, lifestyle magazines and the like will be offering plenty of flashy new diets to help them. In this spirit I offer two of my own patented weight-loss ideas.

The Special Brew diet. They say booze make you fat, but have you ever seen a wino with a beer gut? Simply avoid food and subsist of a diet of cheap, but lethally strong lager and you'll see the weight come off. (For a touch of Pete Doherty chic Haribo Bear sweets are permitted.)


The Irish peasant diet. The Irish weren't fat in the Nineteenth century, were they? Eat nothing expect spuds and if they run out, tough. Remember, even if you're on an island, on no account supplement your diet by going fishing. For added historical authenticity do as I do and live in a freezing hovel owned by a heartless landlord.

If these work for you, do please let me know. I rather fancy a share of the Atkins market.

US to blame for killer wave

It had to be the Grauniad, didn't it? In strict honesty, they can't blame the Yanks directly, but Jeremy Seabrook has a damned good try. He manages to rise above the usual level of pointing out the bleeding obvious in an aggressively self-righteous manner by implying that Bush is somehow to blame.

The ruins of Galle and Bandar Aceh called forth images of Falluja, Mosul and Gaza. Imperial powers, it seems, anticipate the destructive capacity of nature.

and if that wasn't damning enough, the whole capitalist system should also feel thoroughly ashamed of itself for offering to help

Western governments, which can disburse so lavishly in the art of war, offer a few million as if it were exceptional largesse... (This was written before the US upped its financial contribution) Yet we inhabit systems of social and economic injustice that exacerbate the insecurity of the poor, while the west is prepared to lay waste distant towns and cities in the name of a security that, in the end, eludes us all.

The moral: it's a great pity we aren't nicer to each other all the time.

Personally I'm waiting for a Bushite to respond by blaming Islamic fundamentalism. After all, the ruined towns have also been compared to Ground Zero and God had more than a bit part in the tsunami and the September 11 attacks.

Update: no sooner do I issue the challenge that I find that Normblog Geras has already asked why we don't just blame Saddam (sort of). Doesn't the fellow ever rest?