Archive for the Today’s Society Category

Thatcher To Get State Funeral. Not Yet, Sadly.

Posted in Fury Home, People, Politics, Today's Society with tags , , , , , , , on July 13, 2008 by bootlegmarkchapman
Om hold for now

On hold for now

Anyone who spends as much time as I do on various Internet message boards will have been at risk this morning of signing on to a forum and seeing in the “Latest Topics” a reference to the news that Baroness Thatcher is set to be given a state funeral.  As excitement built and fingers clicked mice, we were set for colossal disappointment, as it turns out that the story concerned advance planning for a future ceremony when she finally edges one to the slips.  Champagne went back on ice, street parties were cancelled and the special china went back into cupboards all over the country.

The question of why her descent into Hades should be given a state send-off will have been a secondary concern for those of us hoping that 2008 will be the year our Thatcher-Mugabe-Doherty accumulator finally pays out.  But it is a valid one.  Even Churchill didn’t get the full trimmings. and he is considered by many to be the greatest Briton in history.  Churchill saw off global fascism, Thatcher’s only war triumph came against some shepherds.  Though the Baroness saw off many of her arch-enemies, it has to be remembered that those enemies included British industry.  Ready though her supporters are to trumpet that Thatcher “saved Britain”, all she actually did was mortgage its future for a short-term boost.

  • “She gave countless working-class families the chance to buy their council houses” – by taking out mortgages they could ill afford.
  • “She was unstinting in her defence of people’s freedoms” – except the Chilean people’s freedom to not be executed, tortured or “disappeared”.
  • “She had the courage of her convictions, and didn’t run the country by focus group” – no, that would have entailed listening to someone else’s opinions.

The same people who will pen hagiographies of Thatcher when she goes are the people who bemoan the lack of respect in today’s society, the lawlessness of youth in ghettoised inner cities.  The same people who never stop to think that respect may be incompatible with the selfishness encouraged in Thatcher’s Britain, and that crime is encouraged by poverty and unemployment.  But why would Thatcher have encouraged respect in the people of Britain anyway?  Given the job she did raising her own son, who sees no harm in aiding an illegal coup d’etat in Equatorial Guinea (allegedly … oh fuck it, sue me, good luck getting a payout), it’s hardly surprising that the Britain she created is so short on decency.  My generation is often referred to as “Thatcher’s children”.  I can’t stress how glad I am that that is just a metaphor, and that I have a good mother instead.

I’m aware of the irony of casting aspersions on other people’s levels of respect and decency in a post where I make clear my impatience for the death of an 82-year-old woman, but let’s just say that the breakdown of society has caused me to let a bit of hypocrisy slide.

So the celebrations may be postponed, but the plans for my area’s street party remain in my briefcase.  There may yet be another few false alarms, but let’s view it as a chance to stockpile supplies.  If there is to be a state funeral for this awful, awful woman, then let us match it with our jubilation.  For all the people who died poor and unheralded thanks to the country she created in her own image, and who will not be able to raise a glass, let’s make sure that – if she can look up and see us from where she’s going – she is left in no doubt that there IS such a thing as society.  And that we’ll be queueing to dance on her grave.

Advertisements

Sorry to disappoint…

Posted in Fury Home, People, The Modern World, The Written Word, Today's Society with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 6, 2008 by bootlegmarkchapman

One thing I love about WordPress as a blogging platform is the cornucopia of stats that it dishes out.  For instance, I can see who has linked to the blog, which posts are the most popular, and get a graph of the days when the most traffic has come through the site.  As a stats nerd and a self-obsessed feedback whore, this is the stuff my dreams are made of.

A particularly interesting stat is which search terms have brought people here through Google and other search engines.  A stat like this can be very important when looking to increase hits, letting me know what people who visit the blog most want to see.  My pet subjects, as regular readers will know (and hi to both of you, by the way), include the BNP and tabloid dishonesty, so one would expect to see them feature heavily in any breakdown of search terms.  So let’s now have a look at the list since this blog was created:

So, thanks in large part to this post I have had 144 visits from what I have to assume are mostly 18-30 -year old men with erect penises in their hands.  Especially when one takes into account that I have had a further ten searches for either “Lynsey Dawn McKenzie fucking” or “Lynsey Dawn McKenzie fucked”, with seven looking for Jodie Marsh in a similar role.  The truly amusing aspect of this is that I have mentioned Lynsey Dawn McKenzie a grand total of twice, the context for said mentions being as follows:

“you hire forty security guards to patrol your Big TV Wedding when the only celebs there are Syd Little and Lynsey Dawn McKenzie. For fuck’s sake, my postman is more famous than Lynsey Dawn McKenzie.”

Which incidentally is still true, although I grant you that my postman has not shown up in my Google referrals.  Not as yet anyway.

I can only speculate as to how many cocks have de-tumesced as a result of being greeted not by some photos of a vaguely well-known porn actress being plunged by some chav, but by a stream of angry rhetoric.  Perhaps in some bizarre Pavlovian accident there are now a number of guys in Burberry caps who can only maintain wood if someone stands over them calling Richard Barnbrook a cunt.  It is to they that I wish to apologise.  But seriously, Lynsey Dawn McKenzie?  I wouldn’t touch her with someone else’s ten foot barge pole.  For a bet.

So, never let it be said that I am happy to accept undeserved credit.  I will have to be more careful what I post about in my blogs from now on, and can promise that there will be absolutely no mention of XXX hot teen action cumshot Jenna Jameson anal masturbation naughty nurse schoolgirl three cocks all at once blow job and twice up the arse 2girls1cup rimming hot asian spunktrumpet on a thursday.  And I’m a man who keeps a promise.

Labia.

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”.

Kay Burley – what the fuck?

Posted in fuckwits, Fury Home, Media, Today's Society with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on February 29, 2008 by Toni

A serial killer is jailed. The seriousness of his crimes ensures that he will not live another day as a free man. The mandatory press galoots lobbying for the return of the death penalty hop all over it. A further two sex killers are locked up within a week and the debate gathers pace. Press coverage, much of it unedifying in the extreme, piles up, and one wonders where the next angle will be found. Will the tone be elevated by conscientious journalism, or dragged further into the gutter by some hack who asks questions first and thinks later? A two-word answer for you: Kay Burley.

Having secured an interview with Pamela Wright, partner of the murderer Steve Wright, Burley posed a question that will go down in history for its sheer jaw-dropping insensitivity. “Do you think if you’d had a better sex life, he wouldn’t have done this?” asked Burley, demonstrating an interview technique which, having long ago found the bottom of the barrel, has struck out for new and interesting depths. I have yet to decide whether or not it is to Wright’s credit that she considered and answered, rather than driving a stake into Burley’s heart.

It will come as no surprise to anyone that I’m no fan of the Murdoch empire, and that I feel it has done for journalistic standards what Guy Ritchie has done for cinema. Indeed I feel that were Dante still alive today that he would have to revise his Inferno to add an extra circle just for Rupert and his legacy. It’s a personal opinion, and I am aware it is not a particularly unique one. So it takes something truly head-spinning to surprise me where Sky News are concerned – and somehow Burley has pulled out of the bag an absolute scorcher, one that takes the old certainties, sets fire to them, urinates all over them until the fire is dead, and then puts them through some kind of crushing mechanism before scattering them to all four corners of the globe. Then visits them all and pisses on them again.

Burley will retain her job at Sky News. It’s an organisation so far beyond redemption that word has it they don’t bother with mirrors in the toilets because so few of its employees have reflections. Scientifically-controlled tests have shown that when a television set is tuned to Sky News, the room temperature drops by on average five degrees Celsius, and if you play its incidental music backwards a voice can be heard exhorting the viewer to sacrifice a neighbour so that Rupert Murdoch can feed off their soul. It’s broadly similar to Fox News, the main difference being that for Fox the method of execution is by use of a ceremonial sword, whereas in the UK the viewer is advised to use half a brick.

Rumours that Burley was persuaded to drop from the interview her follow-up question “So do you feel 50% to blame yourself, you horrible frigid bitch?” are as yet unconfirmed, but it is believed that on taking a short break from drowning new-born puppies to watch the interview, Rupert Murdoch sent Burley a congratulatory telegram written in the blood of slaughtered infants.

Will Burley apologise for attempting to spread the blame around in such a ghoulish way? Will she penitently give some thought to journalistic and moral standards in future? It’s hard to imagine it happening, sadly. Indeed, I’d be willing to bet that Hell will freeze over before that happens. Which is great news for Our Kay, as she’ll have somewhere nice and familiar to practice if she decides to give Dancing on Ice another go.

EDIT: I just read this post. Says it better than I did. Sod.

EDIT 2:  Anyone wishing to push Burley towards the exit door at Sky News can sign the petition here.

Jodie Marsh again.

Posted in fuckwits, Fury Home, People, The Modern World, Today's Society with tags , , , , , , , on February 27, 2008 by bootlegmarkchapman

About a fortnight ago I posted an angry damnation of celebrity fuckwit Jodie Marsh and, therein, I posited the oft-expressed point of view that she existed only to make “Katie” Jordan “Price” look good.  Jode, as I like to never call her, has often trumpeted the fact that she’s better than Jordan because her sweater-cows are all real, even calling her autobiography (fucked if I’m linking to an Amazon page for it, the dire cunt that she is, I’m not risking someone actually buying it as a result) “Keeping It Real”.

Anyway, it now emerges that she’s going to have her boobs done – with some lucky magazine stumping up the cash for her in return for the first photos of the new knockers.  There is no font currently in existence that would adequately carry enough weight to do justice to the enormous “FOR FUCK’S SAKE” that this development merits.  After years of gurning about how “real” she is, la Marsh has decided to throw her only remaining card directly into a fucking big shredder.  And some futile arse is going to pay her to do it.

Not only this, but in another stunning development, Marsh has told a leading magazine that the recent break-up of her pretend marriage to some bloke led her to consider suicide.  This is roughly the 964th time that she has considered suicide, having previously given the idea some thought when she got booed on Celebrity Big Brother, and on one occasion when she couldn’t find the teabags.  As a long-term sufferer of clinical depression I can honestly testify to having had very real suicidal feelings and … how to put this … these feelings did not manifest themselves in a desire to go out and get bladdered in a nightclub before making crude denunciations of anyone who had ever looked at me funny.  Call me sceptical, I just don’t quite buy it.

In the earlier post, incidentally, I made a suggestion that Marsh’s existence may cause our planet to be consumed by the purifying fires of judgement.  Can it be any coincidence, I am forced to wonder, that within 24 hours of the latest Marshian revelations, England was struck by a right big earthquake?  It damn near knocked me off my sofa, and caused me to spill red ink all over my Big List of Reasons I’m Jealous of Jodie Marsh and Want to be Like Her but I’m Just a Desperate Wannabe.

Please, Jodie, I’m begging you.  For the sake of the human race, please don’t get your norks inflated.  You have angered the Gods of Squalid Repetitive N-list Celebrities, and this earthquake may only be the beginning.  We’re counting on you.

Internet Suicide Cult Redux

Posted in Fury Home, People, The Modern World, The Written Word, Today's Society with tags , , , , , on February 21, 2008 by bootlegmarkchapman

As the number of people dying from suicide in Bridgend continues to increase, so does the level of prurience in the media’s coverage of what they are still trying to claim is an “Internet Suicide Cult”. Despite the continued insistence from friends, family and police that social networking sites had precisely nothing to do with the latest case, the Sun yesterday adorned its front page headline with a ticker referring to Bridgend’s series of tragic deaths in the aforementioned terms. Aside from the unpalatable scapegoating – more on which later – it’s hard not to feel that the very suggestion that internet fame has anything to do with a teenager ending their life is somehow insulting.

Insulting in the sense that, when someone decides to end their life, it is not a decision that is entered into lightly. Whether from long-term depression or from developments in one’s life that drive them over the edge, suicide happens because a person is feeling such extreme pain that they feel they can no longer live with it. To suggest that a Bebo memorial page plays any part in the decision process is so misguided as to be infuriating – tantamount to suggesting that the suicide victim has considered minimal posthumous celebrity to be more important than the feelings of their nearest and dearest. That’s not the way it works.

Being blunt, a lot of the recent coverage of the supposed “suicide cult” has amounted to crocodile tears. Chiefly tabloid newspapers are dishing up entirely synthetic sympathy in order to wring the maximum coverage from events that are exclusively the business of the communities touched by the suicides. An angle is manufactured and tweaked to make these events more newsworthy. From much of this reporting, one could easily come to the conclusion that Bridgend itself was a smallish town, where the members of this “cult” lived side by side. It was interesting to learn from an article written by the press spokesman from the Bridgend branch of the Samaritans that only one of the seven victims originally linked was from the town itself. The others lived in outlying communities within a county whose population numbers 132,000. Also in this article, Philip Irwin mentions that the total (currently set by the press at 17) is significantly lower than the suicide count for Bridgend in 2006, when it reached 28.

These facts, however, don’t make it into most newspaper reports, as they interfere with the exciting angle that the press have chosen. Looking at this story in the Sun, it’s hard not to feel that they have a list of the “depressed dozen” (there’s a time and place for snappy alliteration, and I can’t help feeling an article about youth suicide is not it) and are waiting to tick the members off one by one.

The other angle, regarding the supposed Bebo link between the suicides, is perhaps more ghoulish.  Actively suggesting that a person has ended their life for 15 minutes of debatable fame is one thing.  Sticking it on the front page and linking to the stories via thumbnail pictures on your website is quite another.  Irony doesn’t seem to enter the mind of a tabloid editor.  Find me ten random teenagers, and I will show you eight people who have a Bebo account.  To imply that the site is in any way nourishing a suicidal mindset among youngsters is as cock-eyed as suggesting that the suicides are in some way attributable to playing pool or wearing trainers.

Simply put, all that links the suicides is as follows:  They all live in the same county, they’re all young and they are all dead.  And all their memories are being sullied by disreputable gung-ho tabloid bullshit.  Unfortunately, it’s gone too far to expect the press to display a modicum of restraint or journalistic integrity on this issue.  They’ve got their story that keeps on giving – why bother with anything that seems like hard work and research?