Cookie Notice

However, this blog is a US service and this site uses cookies from Google to deliver its services and analyze traffic. Your IP address and user-agent are shared with Google along with performance and security metrics to ensure quality of service, generate usage statistics, and to detect and address abuse.

Friday, 13 December 2013

Pisspoor Guardian gets it wrong again

Adam Brereton writing in the increasingly pisspoor Guardian either in ignorance or wilfully fails to understand Pope Francis on Capitalism. He doesn't like Rerum Novarum - an old favourite of this blog - either, almost certainly because it limits the lawful authority of the State over man, making human duties and obligations of those things that socialists imagine should be enforced and imposed by an all-powerful State. 

And Rerum Novarum comments on the same world as that of Burke and Adam Smith - a world in which a man who invests his savings in tools and his time in acquiring skills, to sell the products of both on his own account, is a Capitalist. The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker owe their livelihood to the communities they serve; they have an interest in the wealth and well-being of their fellows, as customers and purchasers of the products of their craft, to ensure their own wealth and well-being. Their belonging to the 'little platoons' creates bonds and obligations in common that act for the common good. Rerum Novarum provides a spiritual wrap for Burke and Smith and it all fits together in a very localist way. 

Brereton and those like him repeat the most stupid of mistakes. The village butcher and Global Mega-Pharma plc are equivalent capitalists under Brereton's construct, there being no Germanic compound words in English to distinguish small local responsible capitalists and large global rapacious and predatory capitalists. But let's be clear - the two are very different creatures. 

This is clear in the Pope's Apostolic Exhortation; it is the de-humanity of the global mega-firms, the international banks, the corporates and conglomerates to whom his comments are addressed. Francis says 'No'. No to an economy of exclusion, No to a new idolatry of money, No to a financial system that rules rather than serves, No to the inequality that spawns violence and No to selfishness and spiritual sloth. I have no problem at all with any of this; it's a break from the Marxist Catholicism of the South American 'liberation' movement and from an Argentine Pope excellent stuff indeed. 

Brereton hates all of this. A doctrine that Man must have authority over not only the State, but over global Statist corporations, is directly at odds with left-wing authoritarianism and Central Statism. Well, let him pick the bones from it - Francis has found an echo and hit the spot, and thank God for it.

Fat Boy kills his Uncle

So Fat Boy Kim Jong-un has killed his uncle. The uncle was no innocent - himself complicit in the torture, murder and starvation of tens of thousands of north Koreans - and at least had used his wealth and privilege to experience a little of a normal life outside north Korea's prison camps. Fat Boy is of course truly repulsive and I want to whip him with a riding crop every time the papers publish his revolting photo. We can only hope he ends his days huddled in a bullet-ridden heap like old Caecescu. 

And every time I write and publish a paragraph like that it is with joy and thanks that we still live in enough of a democracy to be able to do so freely.

Thursday, 12 December 2013

Who buys a bronze bust of Hitler?

I subscribe to an auction amalgamation service that generally gives me pleasure in placing small bids for unwanted and orphan lots under £50. One valued win had a bundle of three long-handled shoe horns, a walking stick with a missing ferrule and a pair of 16" salad servers inscribed 'Teignmouth" all for £8. Recently, amongst the low-priced lots was a piece simply described as 'A bronze bust of Adolf Hitler', and so it was. About 8" high, a little desk-bust looking uncannily like Norman Wisdom, but with the unmistakable 'tache and hair-lick. Who the hell would buy a bust of this monster, I thought - then chided myself that the same question could be asked about a revolting pair of souvenir salad servers.

The answer, it would appear, is Germans. The monster bust, that is. I don't know how they feel about salad servers. Apparently they still don't trust themselves with any exposure to National Socialism for fear that the nation will rise en masse and walk into Poland. Bavaria holds the copyright to Mein Kampf and under Euro rules after 70 years, in 2015, it will be out of copyright. Bavarian scholars have long been working on a new edition, with footnotes, and all with official State approval, ready to publish the year after next. But now, Bayern has cold feet and has announced that Hitler's turgid and semi-literate ranting will remain banned for fear it may inflame old pro-NS feelings in the State. 

I've opened the text of MK on Gutenberg. You can buy an English edition on Amazon - there's probably even a Kindle version for those into 3G fascism. To be frank, to get beyond page 3 you need to be the kind of person who has read the whole of Kim Il Sung's 8-volume autobiography (first volume online HERE). Hitler may have scored top marks for spittle-flinging, ranting, foaming at the mouth and incredibly camp hand gestures, but he couldn't write for figs. Reading him is like being trapped in a lift with a paranoid-schizo London cab driver with Tourettes. It's such risible rubbish that you'd have thought even the Germans could see through it - but no, they're still scared.

The Austrians if anything are even more paranoid. Their Verbotsgesetz 1947 law means it's not even safe to say that Hugo Boss designed some smart kit for the schwul nazis that would not be out of place in a London gay leather club today, but nationalism, xenophobic populism, and authoritarianism that makes no reference to the Hakenkreuz is fine. In Austria even possessing a copy of Mein Kampf is a crime unless it's kept under dual locks and only read by naked persons sitting in an immersion ice-bath under psychiatric supervision. Unless, of course, they have computers connected to the internet. 

Wednesday, 11 December 2013

Dead Mandela Theme Park

Kennedy's death in '63 didn't register with me. By '65, however, and Churchill's passing, I was fully engaged in the national sense of shock and loss, alive to the ending of an era. We sat quietly and respectfully watching the funeral on a small monochrome TV. The front pages of the newspapers - the Daily Express in our house - were in mourning. By the time Konrad Adenauer turned up his toes in '67 I was an old hand at public remembrance. When Diana was killed by a drunk driver I saw the Blairite version of national loss - tacky, maudlin, cheap, and vulgar vulgar vulgar.

The BBC tried its best to whip up a national sense of public loss with Mandela's death, but lacking a true depth of public grief just made itself look very silly. There was no sea of flowers overflowing Trafalgar Square, no silent crowds of tens of thousands and not a single construction crane in London stopped work, let alone bowed its head. Some silly arses in the papers demonstrated their foolishness; "Few people can be compared to Jesus Christ" wrote one in the Telegraph, "Nelson Mandela was one". May his strapline follow him in derision for the rest of his journalistic career.

Yesterday's debacle could have been a Blair creation. In remembrance for the 'People's President' the dominant images are Blairite; Cameron and a blond woman posing for a selfie, Clinton (for whom the term 'selfie' will always mean something singular) sitting two seats from Hillary, a half-deserted Dome Stadium, and a jeering, probably inebriated, crowd. And now Mandela's body will be interred in what will become a dead Mandela theme park, exploited by his descendants and widows, with all the taste of a Texan bordello designed by Posh and Becks. 

How different from the resting place of another great African, though of a different skin colour. In the Matopos, in a simple rock tomb, lies a man under a stone inscribed with just the words "Here lie the remains of Cecil John Rhodes".


Tuesday, 10 December 2013

EU hails its victory in Afghanistan

The EU issued a statement yesterday praising the work of the Euro Army in securing a victory in the Afghanistan campaign. Signor Barolo told the press corps 

"Operation Mozartballs was the first full outing for the European Army. Units under EU command were provided by Luxembourg, Belgium, Malta, Austria, Poland, UK, Netherlands and Denmark We are also grateful for some logistical support provided by the US. 

Just as the EU has kept the peace in Europe since 1945, for which we rightly received a Nobel Prize, our action in deciding to use military force to invade Afghanistan was made to secure peace. We thank those other nations across the world - Kenya, Kiribati, Tonga, the USA, Bhutan - that provided diplomatic and logistical support."

Troops of the Belgian 'Rabbit' battalion (12th Lesbian) of the IVth Haircare and Catering Corps carry a ceremonial tablecloth 

(Story in the Telegraph this morning; "In Afghanistan, EU personnel sat in offices in different parts of Kabul, rarely communicated with one another and had little coordination with the main effort which was, of course, being run by NATO).

Monday, 9 December 2013

IPSA is anything but 'Independent'

Pedants refrained from pointing out that yesterday's post was technically inaccurate; they could have commented that technically, it's not MPs who are awarding themselves an 11% increase but a completely independent detached body called the IPSA. That no-one did so probably means that mercifully few if any of you are fooled by this fiction. 

There's nothing in the least independent about Ian Kennedy's IPSA. At the heart of the Whitehall Big State, it is a body thoroughly committed to maintaining the status quo of the dying big three parties at any cost, committed to turning them into the permanent Parties of State using tax funding in the absence of popular support, committed to resisting any change in Parliament and to keeping outsiders out, and committed to keeping MPs well fed, boozed, fat and contented, with a cornucopia of junior ministerial posts, fat wedge, exclusive privileges and above all a sense of innate greatness. IPSA is committed to the cancer at the heart of the Rotten Parliament - that MPs are 'special'; a fiction that MPs are all too ready themselves to believe.    

So before they settled on 11% they asked MPs how much they really wanted. You can imagine the result. MPs, deluded by the nonsense of their 'specialness', demanded three-figure percentage increases. Kennedy could have asked the public instead, but people such as Kennedy are completely uninterested in public opinion. Good God, if his committee actually paid attention to what the public were saying (splutter!) it may actually be independent.

You've only got to look at the Whitehall club of membership of Kennedy's 'Independent' body to see the fiction. It's a million miles away from the QT audience who jeered and ridiculed Pickles when he tried to suggest that MPs were 'special'. And as the Mail reports, the pay commission members have never had to balance a household budget between one payday and the next.

So thank you for your common sense. And if the Commons is stupid enough to take more than 1% then every MP who votes for it deserves the tumbrils coming for them.

Sunday, 8 December 2013

MPs tell UK to go screw itself

Hard pressed families? The squeezed middle? Go screw yourselves ha ha ha ha!!

It's OUR Cost of Living that's the only one we care about!