Zanu PF Nulabour were bad. They simply could not bring themselves to bring truth to politics – why should they have when we proved so easy to lie to? I watched the murder of the unfortunate Mr. Haq and could see no difference between that and the G20 killing earlier. Both he and Mr. Tomlinson were struck in the back by goons. I fear for our sanity, which appears in the hands of mad bureaucrats who can argue anything and see nothing beyond what they imagine they can get away with saying. Mr. Haq’s killers were incapable of seeing right from wrong. Is this the excuse of the rest of us? Newsnight is now reviewing ConDem to Mr.Bean music. There is no hope other than to earn enough money to be out of it, preferably living abroad. I assume this is where the establishment wants us.
Earlier, we were promised radical police reforms. They had no content other than elections for police commissioners and a British (at least English) FBI. Do have have a mad, rightwing homosexual in line for the latter? Are the former the new jobs for displaced MPs when they reduce the Commons to 500? Within moments, the ACPO chief was on telling us police already do the new, radical change stuff.
Years ago, an old friend described management theories as bullshit twaddle not worthy of argument. Economics was a dismal science, but at least worth arguing about. I disputed the latter, rather proving his point! We don’t have politics, just an immature phase before skins harden and we realise we have voted for the reptiles again. A woman on Newsnight talks of the unaccountable people who waste our money and have jobs for life. She is right, but ‘Yes Minister; only rides again. Kirsty Clapped-out rushes off as applause breaks out, cutting everyone short.
I have seen it all before, perhaps like the hardened cop who can’t see one of his or her own has acted like a pathetic, juvenile 60IQ killer. Money is tight, just after the post-constipation quantitative easing. Can I become a Muslim to get a cheaper grave (Ambush Predator today)? I watched the brilliant, if over long, ‘American Splendour’ last night. This is our practice and fate. I’d go for a pint, except the pub costs more for two than I paid for the whole litre of smuggled voddie in the freezer. Less than 3 pence at the brewery gate turns to £3 and more from ‘Cheerless Dave’. Add £8 in taxis and a little social intercourse comes to a day’s work. I dream of being able to patronise the Admiral Benbow. I do at home via the white van trade.
The answers about all tbis must be simple, otherwise they wouldn’t make it so difficult for us to talk sensibly about what is going on.