Wednesday, July 09, 2008
SNP candidate: take down those England flags
Even though I'd like Labour to take a richly-deserved beating in Glasgow East (though I repeat that I do not see that happening), that's no excuse for the sort of stupidity that saw SNP candidate John Mason attack Labour's Margaret Curran for planning to combine the MP's role with her MSP job - stupid and hypocritical, given that's exactly what his own leader is doing.But one step further down the ladder from stupidity is bigotry. So let's step into the time machine and go back to the heady days of 2006, when men were men, Hillary was frontrunner, and England qualified for major footballing tournaments...
A Scottish school was condemned today for flying too many England flags in a World Cup display.
Hillhead High in Glasgow was "unwise" to use a large majority of England flags in a corridor decoration, according to senior Scottish National Party councillor John Mason.
Mr Mason took the step of writing to the headteacher, arguing he should balance up the display and also accusing him of making a political statement.
The councillor said: "I received a complaint from someone at the school who had objected to the number of England flags.
"From what I understand it was almost exclusively England, and I think it was ill advised to attach the World Cup to England in that way.
"The headteacher tried to draw a comparison with St Andrew's Day and Chinese New Year.
"But the World Cup is an international event and I would expect the school to dig out 32 flags."
Mr Mason said he considered the matter a serious issue.
He said: "I feel that's making a political statement. I would have thought the school should be taking a neutral view.
"I think it was very unwise of the school." [source]
I think it was unwise of Mason, because it makes him out to be a copper-plated bigot and a moron. It may not lose him too many votes in Glasgow East, let's face it (his surname has probably done for him already, anyway); but I am bemused, to put it mildly, that this is the sort of chip-on-shoulder, shortbread-tin nationialism that Eck wants to promote after a successful year in government.
If this hasn't come up in the campaign yet, I think it should, and I would be interested to hear Mr Mason defend his ludicrous and petty anti-English spite on a national stage.
Labels: Idiotarians, Scotland, SNP
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Racism in toddlers, again
This is by turns depressing and horrifying:
Nursery staff must be alert for racist remarks among toddlers, a government-sponsored agency report has said. [...]
The 336-page guide said staff should investigate the reasons behind apparent racial prejudice.
It said: "A child may react negatively to a culinary tradition other than their own by saying, 'Yuck!"'.
That may indicate a lack of familiarity with that particular food, or "more seriously a reaction to a food associated with people from a particular ethnic or cultural community".
Words almost fail you, don't they? What complete duck-brained mupptards we are ruled by. Have these "experts" ever tried to feed a fucking toddler? With some kids, it's like trying to split the atom; we all know there are certain foods that certain children just won't put in their mouths, despite our best efforts. How heartening, then, to know that the eating habits of our offspring are, from the very earliest age, carefully being scrutinised for signs of latent racism.
One wonders where this might end. Perhaps a grimace at the sight of yet another spoonful of stewed apples might be interpreted as betokening a foul prejudice against West Country folk, say; maybe your little nipper's aversion to deep-fried food marks him out as an anti-Scottish xenophobe. That's going to fuck their healthy eating campaign, isn't it?
Anyway, parent, the lesson here is simple; even if your child reacts badly to a certain foodgroup, don't take the risk. Next time you sit down to an Indian takeaway in front of The Bill, make sure you include the whole family - and don't take any shit from your toddler about how his king prawn vindaloo is "yucky", because one day, six months from now, your name's going to be on a fucking database with a red flag next to it.
God, I hate these people so much.
(The government, that is, not Indians.)
Labels: Idiotarians, Nanny state
Monday, July 07, 2008
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
By George!
Absolutely disgraceful:
A British minister admitted Tuesday that the government had spent just 230 pounds promoting England's national day over the last five years.
Culture Minister Margaret Hodge confessed her department spent 116 pounds on promoting Saint George's Day this year, 114 pounds in 2007 -- and absolutely nothing in the previous three years.
I just have so many questions here, I don't know where to begin. They spent £116? On what? What does that buy you, in Brown's Britain? Two and a half hours of bouncy castle hire? Enough glue to make a medium-sized papier-mâché dragon? A keg of bitter and a multipack of Roast Beef and Mustard Brannigans between fifty million people? Not exactly a nationwide jamboree, is it?
If I were an Englishman, I'd be genuinely disgusted - but not surprised - at this, and what it says about the government's priorities. As one of the few Scots who believes in a smaller state, I'm just thankful that the bastards are keeping the annual budget rise pegged below the rate of inflation. Makes a welcome fucking change.
[h/t: Robin]
Labels: Culture, Idiotarians
Friday, June 06, 2008
Utterly pointless comment of the day
So, we're all to have "free" swimming by 2012, thanks to the Olympics (well, "free" in the sense of costing £10 billion, that is).
Over-60s are to be given free admission to public swimming pools in an £80m first stage of the initiative. [...]
Sport minister Andy Burnham indicated future funding would allow free entry to under-16s, then to everyone by 2012.
Great. But it was the response from Help The Aged that was utterly fucking stupid:
The charity's head of healthy ageing Pamela Holmes said: "Free swimming for the over-60s will help those older people who like to swim, and local authorities will welcome the financial support for this programme.
"But for those people who don't enjoy swimming, or for those with problems such as poor strength, uncertain balance and weak bones, swimming classes offer nothing at all."
Well, no fucking shit, Pamela.
Labels: Idiotarians
Saturday, May 31, 2008
A great spot...
...by the Spectator:
Consider this from the venerable Times of India on Saturday:"The Guardian is far to the Left of not just the Tories but also of New Labour, the paper's constituency seemingly that of the "Londonistan" of mullahs and minarets. The Guardian used to be called the Manchester Guardian; today it might well be called, by fans and foes alike, the Madrassa Guardian."
Zing!
Labels: Humour, Idiotarians
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Off to scrub my eyeballs till they bleed...
Give me an AK-47, a full clip, and three minutes. That's all I ask.
(via)
Labels: Euroweenies, Idiotarians, We're all doomed...
Monday, May 12, 2008
Another day gone, another bottle lost
This miserable man just gets more jelly-boned by the day:
Gordon Brown will not receive the Dalai Lama in Downing Street in an effort to avoid confrontation with China over Tibet, The Times has learnt.
The Prime Minister will, instead, see the Tibetan spiritual leader in Lambeth Palace, home of the Archbishop of Canterbury, enabling him to claim to the Chinese that he is receiving the Dalai Lama in a spiritual rather than political capacity. [...]
Both Tony Blair and John Major saw the Dalai Lama in Downing Street. Angela Merkel became the first German head of state [sic] to meet him last September, while President Bush received him at the White House and presented him with the Congressional Gold Medal.
It's almost as artless as the farcical "compromise" with the Olympic torch, which just ended up making Gordon - and us - look daft. Why does this man continually insist on shooting himself in the foot in quite such a comedy fashion? After so many daft cock-ups, the narrative is now all about where the next custard pie is coming from, not about policy - let alone the poor bloody Tibetans.
Perhaps he should welcome the Dalai Lama to Downing Street but refuse to touch him.
Labels: Idiotarians, Nu Lab
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Monbiot today
Monday, April 21, 2008
The importance of researching your protest banners
Friday, April 18, 2008
Lock up the mediums
Reader, brace yourself. Three cheers for the European Union:
Mediums, psychics, tarot card readers and spiritual healers are predicting problems in the future over new European Union legislation which they fear could leave them open to litigation from sceptics. [...]
Britain's 1951 Fraudulent Mediums Act is to be repealed next month and replaced by the EU Unfair Commercial Practices Directive, which comes into force on May 26.
Under the outgoing legislation, the prosecution had to prove that a medium or spiritual healer had intended to be fraudulent in order to secure a conviction. But under the new European consumer protection directive, it will be the psychic's responsibility to prove they did not mislead or coerce credulous consumers.
"The problem is that it's turning spiritualism, the religion, into a consumer product, which it is not," said Carole McEntee-Taylor, the founder of the Spiritual Workers' Association.
I am not normally in favour of increased regulation of any industry, and certainly not a fan of the onerous and stupid legislation that typically emanates from Brussels. But in this case I am happy to make an exception.
Was there ever a more transparently fraudulent money-making scheme than the "psychic industry"? Most of the psychics I am [dimly] aware of operate out of tiny fleapits in run-down shopping arcades, or do guest readings in the upstairs rooms of Edinburgh pubs between 1pm and 4pm on weekday afternoons. If I had the gift of second sight, you can be fucking sure I wouldn't be reading people's palms in the Felcher and Firkin for a fiver a time; I'd be making thousands of pounds an hour on Betfair from the balcony of my villa in the Seychelles, watching a naked girl try to mix a pina colada with her free hand. No, wait; two naked girls.
Now, you might say that this is no different from purveyors of homeopathic medicines, or companies that sell "detox kits", and I probably wouldn't disagree; execute every one of those motherfuckers too. No, no, you would continue, what you meant was that if someone is stupid enough to pay you cash money to tell their fortune, or bring you a message from your dead cat, then that is none of the state's business and they should be allowed to fleece you in peace. And yes, you would be right, of course you would be right; this is yet another item in the long list of things which is fuck all of the EU's business but which now finds itself the object of regulation nonetheless.
And yet I find that I cannot wholly condemn our European masters this time out. It's about time a few tarot readers did some time in chokey. Charlie Brooker has taken some abuse from denizens of the right-wing blogosphere this week (sorry, boys, but I'm with PDF on this one), but he has the occultists down to a tee;
I'm quite hardcore on this. I think every psychic and medium in this country belongs in prison. Even the ones demented enough to believe in what they're doing. In fact, especially them. Give them windowless cells and make them crap in buckets. They can spend the rest of their days sewing mailbags in the dark.
The problem with trying to jail all the mediums in Britain is they'd a) see it coming, and escape overseas to somewhere even more gullible, like Narnia, before you'd passed the legislation, or b) call on their ghostly friends in the spirit world to whisk them from harm's reach.
Except they couldn't because ghosts - unlike scumbags and conmen - don't exist.
Enthusiastically seconded. My only additional suggestion would be to lock their food and water in a safe in the corner of their cell, and tell them that they can eat when they guess the code. That'd sort the wheat from the fucking chaff all right. "Mmmm, mmm, I'm getting a nine? A nine? Or it could be a six? Yes, a six? Is that number special to you somehow?". Fuck you, Mysterio the Great, you're going to starve to death like an unwanted puppy. Don't take it too hard, though; if you want to tell your wife you love her, we'll arrange a fucking seance. (Let's hope she's got some spare cash, eh?)
We'll leave the last word to Susie Collings, from something called the College of Psychic Studies:
"There is always the possibility that mediums will be targeted by people intent on making money by suing what they see as easy targets, and that is a big concern for the individual."
Oh, the humanity!
Labels: Abuse, Flying Spaghetti Monster, Idiotarians, Scumbags
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
How journalism works
The Independent, leader column, 7th November 2005:
At last, some refreshing signs of intelligent thinking on climate change are coming out of Whitehall. The Environment minister, Elliot Morley, reveals today in an interview with this newspaper that the Government is drawing up plans to impose a "biofuel obligation" on oil companies. This would require major firms such as BP and Shell to blend a fixed proportion of biofuels with the petrol and diesel they sell on Britain's garage forecourts. This has the potential to be the biggest green innovation in the British petrol market since the introduction of unleaded petrol a decade and a half ago.
The beauty of biofuels - petrol made from sugar beet and diesel made from oilseed rape - is that they are "carbon neutral". The quantity of C02 they produce when burnt has already been absorbed by the crops used to make them. There is no reason why a biofuel quota should not work.
The Independent, front page, 15th April 2008:

From today, all petrol and diesel sold on forecourts must contain at least 2.5 per cent biofuel. The Government insists its flagship environmental policy will make Britain's 33 million vehicles greener. But a formidable coalition of campaigners is warning that, far from helping to reverse climate change, the UK's biofuel revolution will speed up global warming and the loss of vital habitat worldwide.
Amid growing evidence that massive investment in biofuels by developed countries is helping to cause a food crisis for the world's poor, the ecological cost of the push to produce billions of litres of petrol and diesel from plant sources will be highlighted today with protests across the country and growing political pressure to impose guarantees that the new technology reduces carbon emissions.
Never mind, guys; nobody died. What? Oh.
Labels: Hacks, Idiotarians, We're all doomed...
Friday, April 11, 2008
Up where they belong
I thought at first that this was a joke, but apparently it is not:

Donna Vassar, part of the Vassar education dynasty, has launched plans to build a $300m (£150m) private getaway for stressed-out presidents and prime ministers who want to "reconnect with their unique purpose in life".
The Universitas Leadership Sanctuary is intended as part monastery and part conference centre where the most powerful men and women on the planet can get away from it all with a combination of reading, contemplation and even a spot of gardening.
To remind them of their role as leaders of the planet, the sanctuary will be built in the shape of a four-storey globe on the shores of Lake Las Vegas, a privately-owned lake in the south Nevada desert where temperatures can reach 50C at the height of summer.
The main globe building will be on four levels. The ground floor will house a library and the first floor a debating chamber, while on the second floor will be technology to help make the building energy efficient. At the top, under a dome of glass, will be the spiritual heart of the development - the contemplation space where leaders will be encouraged to sit in silence.
If this is for real, I think it's an excellent scheme. After a hard day fucking stuff up for everyone else, our lords and masters need to unwind, and where better than a futuristic four-storey globe in the Nevada desert? I particularly like the "sit in silence" bit; a little more of that would do wonders for the nation's morale at a time like this. Like a recalcitrant child, we could send Alistair Darling away to contemplate his manifold failings; sit in silence, you badger-faced cunt, and think about what you've done. Then again, the Universitas Leadership Sanctuary doesn't look like the sort of place he'd be invited to in the first place. Maybe we can get him barred.
True, some might cavil at the idea of our leaders taking time off to relax in luxury with the phone off the hook, but I'm all in favour of it; every minute they spend in some daft "meditation globe" with patchouli oil being rubbed into their temples is time they can't use to pass a doltish law or dip into our pockets for yet more money to fund their pointless schemes.
I couldn't help thinking, though, that the striking structure seemed oddly familiar-looking. Where, I wondered, had I seen this before? And then I remembered...

In the miserably bad movie Contact [though some people seemed to like it], scientists and world leaders argued about the true function of that strange-looking globe, built to specifications faxed down to us by aliens for reasons they weren't letting on. Was it some form of transport, or a fiendish doomsday weapon that would kill us all? Well, in the event, it merely catapulted Jodie Foster through a wormhole in space and deposited her some 26 light-years from Earth.
Wouldn't it be nice if the Universitas Leadership Sanctuary could do the same?
Labels: Idiotarians, Random observations
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Bulletproof but stupid
The only proper response to this outburst, from Zoe Williams, is a snort of derision:
The term hoodie initially seemed racist to me, a way of saying "a group of young black guys", without actually calling anyone black, and nobody could point it out, because the first person to say the racist connection would be the first person who made it. It never became necessary to protest over this sleight of hand, however, since the criminal connotation of the look was immediately subverted by that very association - all young people, of all races, of all classes, anyone under 25 who wanted to look a bit downtown, started dressing in this way.
Mhuh? "Hoodie" is racist? Who knew? All I can say to you, Zoe, is come to the leafy west of Edinburgh. To the well-heeled homeowners round about me, "hoodie" doesn't mean "black". It never has and it never will, because the kids hanging around street corners in Corstorphine aren't black; they're pasty-faced little douchebags whiter than any shade of pale.
That's not to say there isn't racism in Scotland, God knows; merely to point out that Zoe inhabits a particular corner of London media life so insulated from the real world that she has to project all her own experiences onto the rest of us as a substitute for actually knowing what she's talking about. What worries her must, by definition, be a problem for us, too. A glance at any daily front page in the Independent gives you an idea what I mean. Mm, yes. Plastic bags. Something must be done. "Food miles". Absolutely. A Chilean glacier retreating? Terrible. Terrible. Shit, we're out of tapenade.
In a sense it's classic Guardianista handwringing - Zoe hates herself for the slightly jittery feeling she gets when she sees a group of black youths on a street corner, and if her spider sense can detect lurking racism inside even herself, then it stands to reason that the rest of us, whose liberal credentials are far less impeccable, must be far, far worse, surely?
As Tom Paine astutely notes this morning,
We laughed at the obsessives on our University campus who could explain everything in terms of race, class or sexual orientation. University was such an exhilarating experience after the squalid anti-intellectualism of our comprehensive schools that we could not take seriously those who preferred such formulae to thought.
Most hilarious of all were leftist students from privileged backgrounds who, on any logical application of their own formulae, were the enemy. They simply decided that holding with greater intensity the views that cast them as such would exonerate them. Indeed, in a classic piece of doublethink, heterosexual whites from wealthy backgrounds seemed to think themselves more virtuous for being leftist witch-hunters of racists and homophobes.
Isn't there enough racism in this country without seeing it where it's not?
Labels: Hacks, Idiotarians
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Stupidity of the day
In a speech in Philadelphia today, Sen. Hillary Clinton, D-NY, will compare herself to Philly icon Rocky Balboa.
"Well, could you imagine if Rocky Balboa had gotten half way up those Art Museum steps and said, 'Well, I guess that’s about far enough?'" Clinton will ask, according to her prepared remarks released to the press.
"Let me tell you something, when it comes to finishing the fight, Rocky and I have a lot in common," she will tell the Pennsylvania A.F.L.-C.I.O. audience. "I never quit. I never give up. And neither do the American people." [source]
I think Alex Massie says all that needs saying about this:
Rocky lost. To a black man.
So, yeah, they do have something in common after all.
Labels: Election '08, Idiotarians
Friday, March 28, 2008
"The Force can have a strong influence on the weak-minded"
This is magnificent:
Jedi Master Jonba Hehol - known to family and friends as Barney Jones, 36, of Holyhead - was giving a TV interview in his back garden for a documentary when a man, dressed in a black bin-bag and wearing Darth Vader's trademark shiny black helmet, leapt over his garden fence.
Wielding a metal crutch - his lightsaber presumably being in for repairs - the Sith Lord proceeded to lay about his opponent, whose Jedi powers proved inadequate for the task of defending himself.
After besting Master Hehol in single combat, Vader, who The Sun reports was under the influence of alcohol, went on to assault the camera crew and a hairdresser.
Master Hehol, a hairdresser, who founded the first-ever British Jedi Church in loving homage to the world-famous science fiction franchise with his brother Daniel, was unimpressed by the revenge of the Sith. "This wasn't a joke. This was serious," he said.
Police are investigating a claim of assault.
Holyhead, eh? You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy...
Labels: Entertainment, Humour, Idiotarians
Monday, March 24, 2008
Full moon, empty head
Mr Eugenides is, to his perpetual astonishment, single - despite the legions of female readers who email in for dates after seeing the pouting baby at the top of this page and assuming (quite erroneously, I assure you) that your scribe will be equally as cute when they meet him in the flesh.
Which is why I tend, despite myself, to find myself reading articles like this, and then immediately wonder why I bothered:
Brits take an average of 22 dates, three one-night stands and three long-term relationships before settling down, says a new poll. Couples revealed how long it had taken to find The One for entertainment website BT PodShow.
No, I've never heard of "entertainment website BT PodShow" either. Nor will I be Googling it - and don't you, either. That's just what the cunts want.
Some needed as many as 50 dates with potential partners. And nine per cent reckon it takes at least ten one-night stands.
This is irresistible logic. If at first you don't find love, bang as many random women as possible until you do. Great work, BT PodShow. I trust there's a link to Marie Stopes on your website.
Talking regularly and an active sex life were what people were looking for. Poor personal hygiene, no sense of humour and being bad in bed were the biggest turn-offs, the poll found.
People don't like shagging people who smell? I mean, honestly, could this get any more boilerplate? The answer, astonishingly, is yes:
The good news for those still searching is this weekend is the best chance of the year to banish those single days.
Oho, this is looking up. Why?
Relationship expert Jo Hemmings said: "The four-day Bank Holiday gives us double the free time of a normal weekend, so double the chances to enjoy ourselves and find love. And the onset of spring, a full moon and an abundance of chocolate Easter eggs will all play their part."
I'm reminded of Woody Allen's immortal endorsement of bisexuality: that it doubles your chance of a date on a Saturday night. Jo Hemmings' advice is rather less profound; plenty of spare time + plenty of chocolate = plenty of sex. By that rationale, those lucky bastards in the cancer ward at the Western General are presumably getting laid all the fucking time.
What is a "relationship expert", anyway? Surely, by definition, someone who is an "expert" in relationships must have had loads of them, right? Which doesn't exactly bode well for an article on how to, er, succeed in relationships. Would you trust a heart surgeon who was a "medical negligence expert"?
Whatever: thanks, BT PodShow and Jo Hemmings: you've reminded me that if there's one thing worse than being single, it's being a gibbering fucking idiot.
Labels: Idiotarians, Random observations, Sex
Monday, March 17, 2008
Hooters comes to Scotland

Anyone who tells the egregious Cathy Jamieson MSP to go and take a running jump is, prima facie, a friend of mine. So it is that spirit that I welcome the news that US bar/restaurant chain Hooters is looking to open outlets in Scotland, much to the displeasure of McFeministas everywhere.
"Hooters" is American slang for breasts and the waitresses wear white vests and orange hotpants.
But [Scottish Labour deputy leader Cathy] Jamieson said: "Scotland does not want these so-called restaurants coming to our cities.
"Violence against women is a big problem in Scotland and these types of establishments do nothing to promote equality or positive images of women in the workplace.
"Hooters is a rather old-fashioned 1980s concept. I think both men and women have moved on from this kind of quite degrading spectacle."
A spokeswoman for Scottish Women's Aid said: "A company that not only promotes but demands the objectification of women in the workplace should have no place in Scotland."
Various other talking heads then pop up to denounce this return to the chauvinistic Dark Ages and generally predict the end of civilisation if onion rings are served to hungry Scottish punters by girls in shorts.
Now, for the avoidance of doubt, Mr Eugenides deeply disapproves of such exploitative, sexist trash, but his libertarian principles force him to conclude, however reluctantly, that pneumatic young women must be allowed to dress in skintight vests and shorts to serve him beer, if that is really their wish. Some might go further, indeed, and say that it is not a restaurant's fucking job to "promote equality or positive images of women", and that Cathy Jamieson should go and fuck herself, always assuming she can manage the logistics of doing that with a paper bag hiding her ugly fucking face.
To their eternal credit, Hooters clearly feel the same way, and relish the opportunity to make their contempt for oor Cathy unmistakeably clear on their website:
"Hooters girls have the same right to use their natural female sex appeal to earn a living as do supermodels Cindy Crawford and Naomi Campbell.
"To Hooters, the women's rights movement is important because it guarantees women have the right to choose their own careers, be it a supreme court justice or Hooters girl."
Priceless. We've come a long way, sisters.
Labels: Idiotarians, Nu Lab, Scotland, Sex
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
A matter of perspective
On the BBC's plans to spend £25m setting up an Arabic channel to compete with Al-Jazeera, among others:
[Abdel] Bari Atwan, the editor of the London-based Arabic newspaper al-Quds, said he feared the channel could become a "mouthpiece" for the British Government.
"Look at the BBC coverage during the Iraq war. It was a disaster. Nothing more than propaganda for Tony Blair's Government," he said.
You what?
Labels: Burning our money, Idiotarians, Middle East mayhem
Friday, February 29, 2008
Quel twat énorme
It really has been a vintage 24 hours for eco-lunacy. Yesterday we had the joy of "E-Day", a whole day devoted to persuading people to switch off their appliances and save energy. By 6pm last night, when the day of action ended, total energy consumption was, deliciously, slightly above average, leading to some crestfallen post-mortems among our hemp-wearing chums.
Today, I am grateful to the peerless Longrider for alerting me to this rare old tale of idiocy which demands to be savoured, like a fine wine, at some length:
A man who planned to walk from Bristol to India without any money has quit, after getting as far as Calais, France.
Mark Boyle, 28, who set out four weeks ago with only T-shirts, a bandage and sandals, hoped to rely on the kindness of strangers for food and lodging. But, because he could not speak French, people thought he was free-loading or an asylum seeker.
Mr Boyle, a former organic food company boss, belongs to the Freeconomy movement which wants to get rid of money altogether.
In his online diary at the start of his journey to Porbander, Gandhi's birthplace [of course - E], he said he was given two free dinners on his first evening away in Glastonbury.
Later, he was joined in Dover by two companions, and the three managed to get to Calais. But in one of his last entries, he wrote: "...not only did no one not speak the language [sic], they had also seen us as just a bunch of freeloading backpackers, which is the complete opposite of what the pilgrimage is really about.
Freeloading? Perish the thought! If only they had spoken English, you could have explained why you wanted to waive the usual capitalist system of payment for goods and services and just take their stuff for nothing. I'm sure they'd have been enthusiastic. (I can't help thinking, though, that the complete opposite would have been walking through France giving other people free stuff, rather than merely taking it from others. Hey ho.)
Risible though all this is, one thing still nagged me. How did they get across the Channel? Presumably they didn't swim. The answer was gleaned from Mark's blog, even a brief glance at which elevates this story to a whole new level of joy:
Everyone we spoke to was enthused by what we were attempting to do, but given it was a Sunday and that all management were off, no one had any power to do anything about it. [...] We also learned that the ferry companies there had to really cut back on free tickets last year as they were – and still are - being killed by the cheap fare airlines.
You can get free ferry tickets to France? Why the fuck are we paying for them, then? This loon might be onto something, you know.
Six hours after we were meant to have left the country, a mother and daughter who had been on the hunt for pilgrims heard my tin whistle playing and miraculously found us.
No, me neither.
The daughter, Katie, wanted to come on the pilgrimage, and for three hours we debated it. [...] Sitting mentally exhausted from the emotions of fear and joy and pressure the whole discussion brought up, my thoughts turned to getting across to France. Just then Katie's mum, the other half of this crazy afternoon, said that she would love to contribute to the journey. And after a few minutes thinking about whether this gift fitted in with our belief of doing everything unconditionally, we decided to accept the universe's offer and we were on our way.
I'd love to have been a fly on the wall of this discussion. "We don't believe in using money," Mark is saying in my mind's eye, with a tortured expression on his face, "but if you want to shell out £100 on getting us across onto that Stena Line ferry, we wouldn't say no." Really, I can't imagine why anyone thought he was un freeloadeur. Do go and read the whole thing, it really is great stuff. Who couldn't love a blog that contains material like "Eric decided that given his lack of training and the critical food situation that to go to Belgium would have been a suicide mission"?
Indeed, I don't know why I never thought of this. "I am a Freeconomist," I shall say. "I do not believe in money, and thus have none. Can the universe please buy me dinner?". I will be met by quizzical stares, but will persist. "No freeloader I. No, I have a philosophy and a blog. I'm walking to India. I'm deeep, man. I want to live in a world where we can get rid of money altogether. But in the meantime, can I have for free something which you've paid for using yours?"
A whole world of possibilities opens up. "Can you give me a beer for nothing? I don't believe in paying for alcohol, you see". "I have no girlfriend, because I don't believe in relationships. Can I fuck yours?" What could go wrong?
Somewhere near Bristol, meanwhile, there's a commune missing an idiot.
Labels: Idiotarians





