Archive for the fuckwits Category

Blog Review: Richard Barnbrook

Posted in fuckwits, Fury Home, Media, Music, Politics, The Written Word with tags , , , , , , , , , , on July 5, 2008 by bootlegmarkchapman
Richard Barnbrook spots a black person in the middle distance

Richard Barnbrook spots a black person in the middle distance

Regular readers will know of my unrestrained adoration of Richard Barnbrook, London Assembly member and aspiring film director. It was to my delight, then, that I stumbled across the swivel-eyed racist’s blog on the My Telegraph site. As you will know, because they never tire of telling us, the BNP gets censored at every turn and its members are hauled over the coals for the merest little slip (like suggesting that rape isn’t all that bad). So it’s refreshing to be able to read ole Rich’s words as he intended them to be seen, and for doubt to be removed once and for all – he really is a colossal arsewit.

Recently, Richard has found himself forced to throw light on the tragic situation of John from London – for those of you who don’t wish to be overcome with all-too-understandable emotion at the poor guy’s plight, he is so sickened by the present state of the nation (with all the nasty immigrants) that he is planning to leave the country – or “emigrate” as I believe the vernacular goes. Confusing solution to such a problem, no doubt, but that’s how life is when you’re a “working white class” person in Britain.

Of course, being a dynamic kind of guy, the kind of guy who gets engaged to a woman mere weeks after the start of a relationship because he’s impulsive like that AND DEFINITELY HETEROSEXUAL, Rich doesn’t rely on correspondence from working white class guys to raise awareness of problems. In this post he fearlessly swedges in against the university course on which some British Muslims are learning to fly planes. But just be warned, Muslims – Richard B is on to you! He’s not about to be gagged on this issue, or any other because he is RICHARD BARNBROOK.

It’s not just Muslims and multi-cultural Britain that he’s got in his sights, though. He also makes clear that he’s not about to accept any flannel off renowned Marxist thought-criminal Lily Allen. Having earlier likened her hairstyle to that of Boris Johnson – and isn’t it good to see that the BNP are weighing in on such weighty issues? – Rich approvingly notes that she’s now dyed it “girlie pink” and has been posing on a Union Jack duvet cover. All is in order, yes? Apparently not:

Imagine my surprise though when I found out today that she has written a nasty song about me, called Guess Who Batman? and put it up on youtube. It just shows that one needs to be careful when making comments about silly spoilt pop star girls. She must be mad, and having a little pop star diva strop. Still I reckon she is just frustrasted at being surrounded by non blokes or boys who are girls…whatever they call themselves these days.

I think you might mean “homosexuals”, RB. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten? Probably you’re just frustrated at being surrounded in the GLA by people who don’t agree with you, or sentient beings … whatever they call themselves these days.

But don’t assume from what I’ve said that Richard just churns out the words. He reads what other people have to say for themselves, and even responds with constructive criticism, as seen here on another blogger’s post – a review of To Kill a Mockingbird. See? Richard can speak on the big political issues, he can direct gay porn AND he can berate 18-year-old girls.  You may not agree with him on the issues, but Richard Barnbrook undeniably has style.

Criminals: “We hate a different kind of criminal!”

Posted in fuckwits, Fury Home, Media, The Modern World, The Written Word with tags , , , , , on June 5, 2008 by bootlegmarkchapman

After a long spell away, I’ve decided to cover a topic which may not be furiously relevant or all over the tabloids, but one which has exercised my spleen for many a year, and which I never cease to find fascinating. It’s an issue that the press rarely seem to pick up on, even though it is they that give it the most coverage. I’m referring to the issue of prisoners appointing themselves as moral arbiters, particularly with reference to cases where children are involved.

The abduction, murder or abuse of children is vile, and it’s not exactly rocking the boat to point that out. We are all aware of it, and there are few people clamouring for the release of offenders such as Ian Huntley or Roy Whiting. But not a single case involving a child seems to pass without the press informing us that the prisoners incarcerated alongside the suspect are taking a personal interest. In a recent example Karen Matthews, the mother of the abducted child Shannon Matthews and herself accused of child neglect and perverting the course of justice, was placed on suicide watch following threats from fellow prisoners. This is very far from an isolated example, and it begs a vital question: Are these people the least self-aware morons on the planet, or what?

In the course of the papers’ coverage of the death threats and bullying of prisoners such as Karen Matthews, it is difficult to find among the often quasi-approving text any detail of what those doing the bullying were convicted of themselves, but I’m willing to bet that at best a minority are in for shoplifting or public nudity. In general, we’re talking GBH convicts, armed robbers and, without question, murderers. So what has brought about the conversion that miraculously changes them into saints where a high-profile case involving children is concerned? Everyone has the right to an opinion, of course, and it’s one of a few rights that is (and should remain) unaffected by a criminal conviction. But would these people’s rushes to moral judgement not, perhaps, have been better employed before they smashed a glass in someone’s face or stabbed a complete stranger?

There’s an old joke, the telling of which I will make a complete mess of now, for your delectation.

A man driving down the road is arrested by police who suspect that the vehicle he is driving has been stolen. He is charged with the offence and is told he can face trial by jury or by magistrates. He asks for clarification of the difference between the two. “Well,” he is told, “the magistrates are court-appointed legal experts who will listen to the evidence and judge your case on its merits. A jury would consist of twelve of your peers who will do the same”. “Peers?” says the man, “what does that mean?” “Well, twelve ordinary people, just like you.” replies his counsel.

“In that case,” says the man, “I think I’ll take my chances with the magistrates. I’m fucked if I want to be judged by twelve car thieves!”

Not, I will grant you, very funny. But it raises a point which I can’t help thinking is often ignored – that the very worst people to judge a moral quandary are those who have been proven morally suspect. Most people in jail, whatever you may think about the vagaries of the legal system, are there for a reason. They’re not nice people, and their morals are not what you might call … how to put this … remotely intact. So instead of yelling death threats after lights out or planning to smuggle a Stanley knife into the shower block, could they not just try and sort out the motes in their own eyes first? Put some thought into why they are behind bars, maybe consider some remorse for their victims, look at changing their ways?

The “justification” that is often given (and swallowed by many who should know better) is that people who harm children – or allow them to come to harm – are in a special class all by themselves. The scum of the earth. As though there is some kind of league table. Now, I’m not saying that my own moral judgement is without its flaws, but if your one claim to the moral high ground is that the person whose life you took, whose body or safety you violated was born before Bros released their debut single “I Owe You Nothing”, then you’re desperately ill-equipped to judge anyone. More fool anyone for trumpeting your entitlement to do so – you may be a different sort of bastard, but you’re still a bastard.

The legal system will have its say on Karen Matthews, as it has and will do in the future with other suspects. And it is far, far better equipped so to do than a bunch of criminals.

Downtime Announcement (sort of)

Posted in fuckwits on April 3, 2008 by bootlegmarkchapman
I’ll shortly be going silent for a few weeks, as I’m moving again, into a nicer flat, as of tomorrow.  I have a vague impression that I’ll pop on to check e-mail and stuff in an internet cafe, but yeah, there you go.

It’d be nice if you’d miss me or something.  Christ.  People, I dunno.

Boris and the BNP – a marriage made in Hell

Posted in fuckwits, Media, People, Politics, The Written Word, Today's Society with tags , , , , , , , on April 2, 2008 by bootlegmarkchapman

uselessidiot.jpg

I don’t suppose it’s a massive surprise that the BNP have recommended that their voters in the London mayoral election give their second preference vote to Boris Johnson. The humour – and the irony – in the situation comes from the efforts by both parties to distance themselves from one another. They are both clearly concerned with the sensibilities of their potential core vote – Tories and those impressed by celebrity on Boris’ side, unreconstructed Nazis on Barnbrook’s. While the BNP are concerned that being too glowing about Boris will upset the voters who don’t think the Tory party are quite racist enough, Boris is playing the “don’t take that ‘piccaninny’ stuff too seriously, I’m a lovable rogue” card. But in this case, Boris and the BNP are well-matched.

The article from which the “piccaninny” quotes came often gives rise to howls of foul play – innocent words taken out of context and all that – but there aren’t many ways that a description of African people as “piccaninnies” can be taken. In fact, there is only one way, and it’s hideously patronising towards an entire race. Yes, it is racism. And it’s far from the only instance in that article, let alone Johnson’s entire public career. It may well be that the leaden-footed intervention from the Brainless Nazi Party is a timely boost to those fighting against Johnson’s campaign, and we may at least have them to thank for that.

Currently, according to a recent Evening Standard poll, support for Johnson outstrips Ken Livingstone’s by 10%. For the most part, Johnson’s support hinges on two things:

  1. This would be Livingstone’s third term as Mayor. Though he is widely seen as having done a good job, there is a concern over the freshness of his leadership, and this is aggravated by the current unpopularity of the Labour government.
  2. People have seen Boris on the telly, and they find all that “Gosh, cripes” stuff funny and endearing. While this is precisely the last thing that should be used to justify voting him in as Mayor, it’s working for him because people forget that the future of their city would be negatively affected by having a pompous moron at the head of its legislative assembly.

There is not much that can be done about the first, outside of continuing to push the message that Ken has already been pushing. Therefore to keep Boris from getting in and making an absolute cunt of everything, it is on the second of these two fronts that he must be challenged, and it is key that people continue to draw attention to Boris’ sniffy expression of distaste for black people. It could, therefore, be very helpful to make a nod to the fact that the BNP seem very comfortable with the idea of Boris as Mayor. For all that they lampoon him as a joke candidate, he’s scarcely any more ludicrous a personality than Richard Barnbrook or Nick Eriksen, who today had to stand down from the assembly election because he was exposed as someone who thinks it’s OK for husbands to rape their wives. Briefly continuing this tangent, it’s amusing that the freaks accuse the media of taking Eriksen’s comments out of context when the blog is still up and if anything, makes him look even more of a knuckle-dragger than the excerpts that have been widely quoted.

What is absolutely certain is this:  we can laugh at the idea of Boris Johnson as a serious politician until the cows come home and make comedy racist jibes about the yaks.  But at the moment there is a very real danger that, come May, he could be mayor of one of the most important cities on the planet.  It will be harder to laugh when he welcomes delegates from all over the world and causes widespread offence by laughing at their clothes.  Prince Philip may be a colonial throwback with a regrettably loose tongue, but at least he’s subservient to his more circumspect, more civilised wife.  When Boris next says something horrendous, it could be that there’s no-one to slap him down, because if a bunch of star-struck, politically illiterate people have their way, he’ll be the highest authority in his firm.  The fact that the BNP are pushing for this to happen should be a wake-up call for people who might let this happen.

For evil to prosper, we just need loads of twats

Posted in fuckwits, Politics, Today's Society with tags , , , , , , , , on March 29, 2008 by bootlegmarkchapman

Before I smashed my right pinky in a kitchen accident of earth-shaking idiocy, I wrote a post about the desperate attempts by the Bigoted Nazi Party to portray themselves as a cuddly, modern party that absolutely doesn’t hate blacks and gays. As I may have failed to mention at the time, these efforts have already had ground-breaking results, bringing Griffin’s Gang no fewer than zero seats in Parliament. That’s not to say that their ideas haven’t found favour with some, however.

This guy decided to take me to task on my liberal, utopian viewpoint. He decided that I have a utopian viewpoint because he’s not very bright. Here, for those who don’t wish to swim through a sea of barely literate and hugely speculative piss, are his edited highlights (he’s the one in italics, I by extension am not).

So you are happy to let the UK be taken over by religious ideology which has its roots in 7th Century Arabia? – Yes, that’s EXACTLY what I said. Kudos on reading between the lines. When I said “Nick Griffin could pledge to dangle his dick in a bucket of custard on taking his seat in the House of Commons in the full knowledge that he won’t need to make good on it”, what I actually meant was “please open a Halal butcher’s in my living room”. Fuckwit.
During the early 70’s a plan was put into operation by which these people could take over the UK and Europe, this plan needed uncontrolled immigration of Muslims. – Wow, that’s quite a bolt from the blue, I must read the proof that you’ve so kindly provided. What’s that? You have none? Oh. Well, that’s a shock.
The plan has worked very well, within 50 years the British population on this Island will be a minority…FACT NOT FICTION. Now do you really believe that the Muslims will not bring in a Islamic state when they have the power to do so? – well, regular readers will know that, while I get a lot of my demographic information from deranged pricks in blog comments, I do sometimes look to the most recent Census. This belt-and-braces approach can sometimes lead to conflicting information. While my correspondent tells me that unlimited immigration from Muslim countries means that the British population on this island will be under Islamic rule by 2058, the Census seems to suggest that the White British section of the population makes up around 85% of the total population! Who to believe? The bell-end or the people who actually have the information at their fingertips? While one side has a devoted team of statisticians and all the data, the other types SOUNDBITES IN BLOCK CAPITALS.
Come on what is your plan apart from doing NOTHING? – well, gee, I dunno. I was just going to drape loads of bacon over myself and hope the Muslims would be scared to touch me.
So I await with baited breathe what your answer to this problem really is or are you just a big waste of breath like the rest of these mamby pamby liberals look here’s utopia idiots who think everyone is like you? – I myself am waiting with “baited breathe” to find out what “mamby pamby liberals” are. I think it’s like “namby pamby liberals” but with a bit more dancing. But I will agree, I am concerned about the rise in numbers of “look here’s utopia idiots” who think everyone is like me. I can’t move for those cunts, it’s becoming a real grind.
I am really considering joining the BNP and will most likely give them my vote and I don’t really care what you think about that – I had been labouring under the impression that everybody really cared what I thought about everything, and now this happens. I’m honestly not sure I can carry on living.

So there it is. For anyone who had previously thought all BNP voters were idiots, I bet you’re feeling really silly now.  For everyone else, I hope you’ve enjoyed this edition of “Someone Talking Complete Balls And Tying It Together With False Statistics And Making Bewildering Assertions And For Some Reason Expecting Me To Feel Really Put Out That He Doesn’t Consult Me Before Forming An Opinion”.

Right-wing bigot hits out at bigger right-wing bigot

Posted in fuckwits, Media, People, Politics, The Written Word, TV with tags , , , , , , , , , , on March 7, 2008 by bootlegmarkchapman

The BBC should really know better. Perhaps it was pre-emptively avoiding claims of suppression from the Bigoted Nazi Party by allowing Nick Griffin to speak on air, but when you invite a moron to speak you can’t be too shocked when he says something idiotic. So it was last night when Nick crowbarred some Islamophobia into a topic on white working-class fears over a drink-and-drug culture. An intemperate, ludicrous statement that even had Jon Gaunt (yes, that Jon Gaunt) distancing himself from Griffin’s remarks.

It’s tempting to feel that Griffin and his merry band of fascist fuckwits should be ushered from the airwaves and never given a platform to speak. After all, for their claims to be a mainstream political party, they do not have, and never have had, a Westminster seat. Even Respect have one of those. They have some seats on local councils – which makes them equal in impact to the Cornish separatist movement. They even got excited at coming second in a parish council election. Given their negligible, virtually non-existent political imprint, they could justifiably be under a press blackout for reasons of irrelevance. But then we’d hear them cry out about being “gagged” because they “tell the truth”. We know, of course, that “the truth” is their eternal enemy, but they do love their persecution complex.

Since they dumped the boots, put on suits and decided to play at being real, grown-up politicians, the BNP have been exposed a thousand times as the racist scum that they are. Griffin’s comic stylings on Newsnight were instantly derided not only by Gaunt, but also by Kirsty Wark, but the people who chose to interview Griffin for the show also need to take a look at themselves. Was it really sensible to ask a question – any question – of a man whose political relevance is minuscule and derived entirely from intolerant rabble-rousing? Griffin claims to speak for the white working-class, but so do a huge number of other people, including a great many who, if they see a red light on a TV camera, don’t immediately think “Durrrr, I’m on TV again, time to say something naughty!”

Disappointingly, this move gave Gaunt a chance to lambast the BBC for painting the white working class as bigots, and align himself for perhaps the first and only time with the Observer’s Andrew Anthony – but even more disappointingly there was a lot to agree with in the rest of what Gaunt said.  Nick Griffin is not a fair representation of what working-class white people (a subset of society in which I am included) think and feel.  His politics of fear and hate have been rejected time and time and time again when it matters, and yet he still plays the “censorship” card in order to cling to some spurious relevance.  The media, more fool them, fall for it and give him time to air his nonsensical ramblings in the name of free speech.

The press and the television media need to have more confidence in saying “no” to Griffin and other extremists.  When the tiresome and inevitable cries of unfair suppression go up, they can point to the fact that for all the acres of coverage the BNP have already had, the party still has no MPs in Westminster, is running far behind the main parties in the race for London mayor, and can only garner a small protest vote at council elections which confer as much power as the average Parent-Teacher Association.

There is a counter-argument, of course, that allowing the BNP to speak forestalls any accusations of lack of balance.  This argument, however, is defective because these accusations continue even today.  It doesn’t require a change in policy to keep these idiots off the air, just a realisation that the BNP really aren’t that important.  Balance is one thing, going out of your way to appease tossers is quite another.

How to piss on your own chips, by Marion Cotillard

Posted in fuckwits, Fury Home, Media, People, The Modern World with tags , , , , , , , , on March 2, 2008 by bootlegmarkchapman

It was all going so well.  A Bafta followed by an Oscar to go along with a Golden Globe and the new Audrey Tautou was a most palpable hit in Hollywood.  With a role alongside Johnny Depp in the soon-to-begin filming  “Public Enemies” 2008 was all set to be her year.  And then this happens.  It remains to be seen whether her career will be fatally stymied – there’s no shortage of actors out there with questionable views but solid CVs – but it’s safe to say that the recent thawing of US-French relations is unlikely to extend to a broad forgiveness of Cotillard’s frankly bizarre comments regarding the World Trade Centre attacks.

OK, so she hasn’t blamed the Jews for it – apologies for the distasteful link, but I feel that idiocy should be exposed – but unless she has a thunderously good explanation for the comments, it seems likely that instead of being the actress that casting directors immediately call when a part calls for an elfin French lady, Cotillard is going to be as fashionable as shit-flavoured milkshakes in the near future.  “3000 people were killed to save on re-wiring” ought to be a line of reasoning that causes conspiracy theorists the world over take one look at the bottles in their hands, rub their eyes and join the sentient world in thinking “OK, now that is fucking scary shit.”

Now, Tom Cruise’s interesting assertions that Scientologists are the only people capable of helping the victims of a motorway pile-up are one thing – a batshit-loony thing that adds to the already teetering pile of evidence that he leans towards being a touch eccentric (pleasedon’tsuepleasedon’tsuepleasedon’tsue) – but these remarks, and his adherence to the Cult of Scientology, only became common knowledge when he was already big box-office, and largely bullet-proof where the success of his films was concerned.  He could jump the couch 365 days of the year – 366 this year – and his next work would still attract large crowds on the strength of his name and little else.  Cotillard, although already established in France having appeared in the Taxi trilogy, had seemed set to become a global star and a bankable name, with three of the most prestigious cinematic awards in her handbag before March had even begun.

There’s little point looking into the merits of her argument – it’s possibly even weaker than the “Jewish Conspiracy” clownery.  She also seems to buy into the argument that the moon landings were faked, despite numerous point-by-point dismissals of that particular canard.  People who disbelieve conspiracy theories are frequently upbraided with remarks commenting on their gullibility, but when you scratch the surface of these theories they are very often hollow and easily disproved.  Indeed, if you challenge a conspiracy theory with one of the many reams of evidence that disprove it, the reply often comes back:  “That just goes to prove that they were worried people would work it out – they fabricated all that evidence to make us look like cranks.”

Marion Cotillard, however, has handed the anti-conspiracy community (of which I am pleased to be a part) a loaded revolver.  There’s really no work involved in making her look like a crank.  She’s done that herself, and in so doing has probably guaranteed Audrey Tautou another few take-it-to-the-bank default French babe roles.  Felicitations, Marion ma petite.