A good day for me. More work, and a contact for even more work, and two more potential projects on Thursday. If I can keep this up for six months I can then work like a Labour minister for the remaining six months, and spend all my time mouthing off about stuff I don't understand and nobody cares about while doing the square root of diddly squat about any of it. I doubt I can lie as brazenly but I'll practice.
Not such a good day for democracy. Iain Dale was moved to use a word from Obo's vocabulary about a Labour film. I'm not surprised. Neither is Constantly Furious. Especially as the film shows lots of grim-faced officials with clipboards, which anyone who has lived in this country for the past decade will instantly recognise as Labour's Little Hitlers. They are not 'coming', these clipboard-wielding, officious morons. There are here, and have been for some time. The pod people are among us, hatched by Labour, nurtured by Labour and given supreme power to be a dickhead and get away with it by Labour.
I'm sure they'll still be around under the Tories. Tory councils have been demonstrating their ability to be dickheads and get away with it for quite some time. They have taken all Labour's petty laws and thoroughly enjoyed being dickheads with them.
I will never vote for either of them. Don't get excited, young Clegg, and don't get your hopes up, Oily Al, because I'm still smoking and drinking here and you still hate me and I am going to demand your canvassers explain why they think it is just fine and dandy to make my life a misery. And then explain why on Earth they think I'm going to vote for more of it. That's if I ever see a canvasser. The leaflets appear with smug and superior faces plastered all over them but I have never seen any of those faces in real life.
Which is, on the whole, a good thing. For me and for them.
The EU seem keen to have us leave too. They have demanded a total ban on smacking children for any reason whatsoever. Battering granny for 50p? Tsk, the little scamps. Repainting the neighbour's car with brake fluid and sewage, then taping 240-grit Emery paper to their windscreen wipers? Oh, bless the little artistic darlings. Dissecting a cat without anaesthetic? Gracious, surely a career as an NHS consultant is on the cards. Crucifying Fido? A future in the clergy is certain. I did have an example of a future Pope but thought it best to leave that one out. Labour and the Fundamentalist Atheists have hit him hard this week. So maybe adding budgie-buggery to the list is a little over the top.
No, no, no. Clout them until they stop doing it. Children push boundaries. Always have and always will. They reach the point where there are consequences and then retreat within those boundaries. That is how they learn what is and is not allowed and that is how they learn the limits of behaviour that keep a society from chaos. They don't all have to be punished. We learned a lot from the punishment meted out to others. We learned 'Hmm, best not do that'. That observational lesson is impossible now.
They will push the boundary until they reach the point where there are consequences. If there are never any consequences then there are no boundaries. No limits. Look at those repeat offenders that Judge Alzheimer keeps sending on their way with a lollipop and ruffled hair and a big badge saying 'ASBO'. No consequences, no limits.
I know someone who has joined the police. In Scotland, they don't take on any old scroat. There are interviews, fitness tests, medicals, exams and if you get through that lot there is something like fifteen weeks of training before you get to the probationary period in which another officer follows you around. This person has just started the training and one of the group has dropped out on day one. After months of exams and testing, they dropped out on day one. Why? Strict discipline. They have never seen it before.
At school, we could get 'lines' for having our ties on in a less than straight manner. Do any modern kids still get 'lines'? Prefects could hand out that punishment for things like talking in the library. Prefects had no authority to inflict physical punishment, that was the sole domain of the head teachers and you had to do something really serious to get it. This was not Eton. This was a South Wales grammar/comprehensive State school and it was in the constituency of a man so Red it had affected his hair and his face. I speak of none but the EuroKinnock his very own hideous self, the man solely responsible for breaking the chain of consistent Labour voting in my family. My father knew him, you see, and would rather vote for a real weasel than a ginger one with a big nose and a small brain.
The school changed from grammar to 'any old leg-iron' while I was there. Even after it changed, discipline was enforced. Dress code, no fidgeting in assembly, no answering back to teachers, turning up on time and doing the assigned homework were all enforced and all failure was punished.
Now the little sods get no punishment if they turn up dressed as Lady Gaga or even if they don't turn up at all. The girls are even worse. Grammar schools are necessary. The government has proved it.
Grammar schools were not elitist. They let me in, didn't they? They were an incentive. Really, they were the first incentive a growing child encountered. Infant school was a piece of piss. You learned to read and to count and that was pretty much it, there were no qualifications and whether you were good at it or not you all went to the same junior school anyway. We did spend considerable time learning about gills-pints-quarts-gallons and so on and that was a total waste of bloody time thanks to the EU and decimalization. It does let me bamboozle people by asking for wood in a four cm by three inches by two yards dimension but even so, I'm now stuck with knowing stuff nobody can use.
It was the eleven plus exam that was the first hint of future concern in a child's life. Fail that and you were sent to the Secondary Modern, a place filled with ravening skinheads and Deliverance toothless hillbillies with a taste for a bit of the old 'squeal like a piggie, boy'. Pass, and you could get into the grammar school where they spent much more time teaching you stuff than they did peeling your battered carcass off the playground. It was tense. I still remember waiting for those results and it was the first time I was ever really scared for the future. Not the last, but the first.
I passed because I had an incentive. I am, like almost every other human on the planet, a lazy sod at heart. If I won a big lottery payout I'd never work again. No yachts, no big cars, I'd work one more year after the win and then live on the interest. Tell me that failure means having to spend every day with the red-braces, shaven-headed Doc Martin's brigade and I will work like a Roman galley slave to avoid that. I need an incentive. Everyone does. Of course, my chances of winning the lottery would be improved if I bought a ticket. But not by very much.
Now? You get into university because Labour says you're poor. You don't get poor by working like stink, you get poor by giving up and just spending everything. As I once did - but I learned from it. Now I use excess cash not for excess junk but for reserves. Yet if you work and save and try to make your life better, Labour take away your chance of advancement and give it to some idle little one-toothed pig-poker who sat around waiting to be handed everything.
There is no incentive to work at primary school. You're all going to that same comprehensive anyway. There's no incentive to work at the comprehensive either because there is no 'dimbo' class to stay out of any more. They are all dimbo classes now. There is also no top class to work your way into so why bother? The intelligent are not less intelligent. They are the ones who recognise, very quickly, that the way through this ridiculous toytown version of education is to sit back and ride the train. In this way is the career criminal born. Not the chav 'duh... I am Asbo Boy'. I'm talking about the Joker here, or Saw, or the entire organisation behind the concept of 'Hostel'.
Yes, those are fictional, but the very cleverly produced phishing spam I see every day is not. The drug cartels are not fiction. Neither is the child slavery that is everywhere, the importation of immigrants for a 'job' that they find is in fact forced prostitution, the trafficking of people... these things are not set up and run by idiots.
They are set up and run by intelligent people who have no sense of boundaries or discipline. There have always been some and always will be. The question is, why is the EU intent on creating more of them?
And why are none of the main parties showing any interest at all?
Are they stupid or are they in on the game? You decide.