Optimism is a bad solution

How I wish I had these levels of blind stupid optimism in my heart:

We’re winning: the good, decent, sensible, value-creating, hard-working, straight-talking, pub-bantering, piss-taking real people are on the verge of trouncing the politically correct, social-justice-worshipping, humourless, economy-draining, finger-wagging, parasitical nonentities who’ve been ruling the roost these last few years.

We’ve had enough of the Jolyon Maughams and the Gary Linekers and the John Bercows and the Mark Ovlands pratting around on top of our train carriages and preventing us from going where we want to go.

The Brexit train is about to leave the station. And it’ll take more than a bunch of posturing, prancing gimps to stop us.

These are the words of the man who brought us the “dogshit yoghurt fallacy“, now asking us to believe that cultural entropy can be reversed. That degeneration can be magically turned into renaissance in a way that has only ever been achieved before by bloody revolution or total war. That getting Brexit – actually or in name only – will unmix the dogshit from the yoghurt and, somehow, put all these people and their pet projects back in their box.

Perhaps he also imagines that by manhandling a couple of crusty dickheads at Canning Town we have somehow started to reduce the flow of money from our pockets to the green blob, the micromanagement of our daily lives will somehow be upended, all the slebs will suddenly stop lecturing us like a bunch of coked-up primary school ma’ams and Greta Thunberg will step on a landmine, with hilarious consequences.

At least Tim Newman is a bit more measured in his instinct that things are on the up:

Today’s incident [The Extinction Rebellion tube train kicking], coming off the back of the authorities’ decision to ban any more unauthorised Extinction Rebellion protests in London, might be a sign things are starting to turn. On top of that, it looks as though Boris might have reached a deal with the EU which can pass a parliamentary vote and see Britain leaving the EU at the end of the month as planned. While probably not perfect, it is better than May’s appalling Withdrawal Agreement and does actually represent Brexit in more than name only. That will leave an awful lot of Remain activists unemployed, and a fair few MPs staring down the barrel of a P45 cannon at the next election.

All in all, things are looking a little brighter after today, aren’t they?

It’s admirable and typically English to seek out the chink of light through the clouds. The Canning Town Twat-Kicking made me smile. But one swallow does not make a spring.

It might be a good way to have a happy Sunday but, in the long term, we don’t profit from kidding ourselves that it’ll all be okay, when an unemotional look at the situation would make it clear that we are now more than 50 years into the progressive project and its deeply entrenched beneficiaries are not about to change their tune on the back of a couple of isolated defeats.

The idea that if the global warming gravytrain is cancelled, its travellers will turn to productive activities that truly enrich humanity is absurd. Or that when Brexit is done, the defeated remainers will turn to upholding popular will and the greatest economic and societal good, reducing violent crime and social fragmentation by acting upon empirical evidence as it relates to uncomfortable questions of ethnicity, culture and religion, improving opportunities for all to live a fulfilling, rewarding and uncoerced life.

The Devil makes work for idle hands. Take away climate change and Brexit and it’ll be some other sort of futile ‘conservation’ or ‘improvement’ that they dedicate themselves to… whatever they choose, it’ll just be another pretext on which to demand we all ‘think of the children’, a different stick to beat us with and another lucrative bandwagon to board.

We can and do fight for ground inch by inch and yard by yard, and while we may have gained an inch at Canning Town, and a foot-pound of momentum from whatever Brexit turns out to be, it’s just the beginning of a long and gruelling fight-back.  One that most people don’t have the time, resources or tenacity for. Hell, most of the people who are old and wise enough to see it all for what it is will be dead before there’s the faintest hope of consigning the current hegemony to the landfill of stupid ideas and ruinous mass delusions.

And, as far as most people are concerned, there is still everything to gain from at least appearing to be onboard with the progressive theocracy, and everything to lose by disembarking. As long as there’s football/the royal family/X-Factor/Punch & Judy politics to confect a drama out of, most people won’t keep on making too much of a fuss.

I hestitate to draw parallels with Classical legends or Biblical struggles or the decline and fall of the Roman Empire and the onset of the Dark Ages, but you can if you like and I wouldn’t object. Each would illustrate some useful lessons that we should all pay heed to.

Those of us with the will and means to fight must not let fatigue lead us to complacency, even for a lazy Sunday.

Now, fingers crossed for ManU to trounce Liverpool, eh?


A compromise is a defeat you’re forced to smile about

This Brexit deal. It’s as good as done isn’t it? And done we have been.

MPs have their careers to think about, after all. Tories who don’t want to go into an election as ‘Brexit blockers’ will back it. Labour MPs who are in Brexit constituencies will seize the opportunity, whatever their ‘leader’ says. They’ll sell it to Brexiters as a good deal for leavers, and to Remainers as a good deal for them. It’ll be neither.

The public have reached a point of such fatigue with the whole merry dance that, punch drunk, enough of them will sign up to just about anything that ends all this turmoil.

I have to admit that Boris’s team have wrung more in the way of concessions out of the EU than I expected. But it’s not enough.

They have been rowing back from such a compromised starting position – courtesy of May’s ‘deal’ – that it would be almost impossible to get from there to anything I might consider a satisfactory conclusion.

Some people of my acquantance are very much minded to accept that this deal is as good as it’s going to get, and that there is no chance we will be exiting on a WTO basis, so it’s this or it’s remain in the EU.

Well, I think I’d prefer to remain than accept this deal that inevitably means the EU will have us by the goolies in ways that are doubtless yet to be uncovered, and will lead either to our ultimate acquiescence, or to years of arguing in the ECJ under rules made up by our opponent while we’re locked out of the room.

To me, nothing fundamental has changed. The UK would still be left in a position where it has no influence over EU policy, but would be bound to give them powers and jurisdiction whereby they will prevent the UK becoming a meaningful export competitor to EU countries and, by the way, the EU would still own the fish stocks in UK territorial waters, which I suspect is just the tip of the iceberg in terms of what we’ll be giving up.

Something that every outlet has been notably silent on so-far is the question of free movement. Is it in or out? the only media noise about the ending of free movement relates to the no-deal scenario, which we ain’t going to get.

Fast forward 6 months: the deal will be done, we’ll be into a transition period, and slowly the gremlins will begin to emerge from the nuance and interpretations of the text of the agreement. As negotiations move forward with the EU on trade, it will become increasingly clear that the UK and the EU are reading each and every paragraph in very different ways from one another and in all likelihood, the UK will get nary a timely hearing from the adjudicating courts. The remainers’ next phase of action will be well underway, and their practice at binding the hands of the PM will be put to good use making sure the free trade agreement carries all sorts of remainer baggage

Meanwhile, Boris will have gotten his election and will sweep to victory – of sorts – restoring the slender but workable majority that Cameron won in 2015. The Brexit party will, mostly by accident, end up with maybe 2 MPs, who will turn out to be patently unsuited to the task. The UK having been ejected from the EU parliament, the Brexit party’s powerbase (and income) will disintegrate. The incipient disagreement we see today about whether to support Boris’s deal will have degenerated into civil war on several fronts. The election will have caused pretty much everyone in the party to disagree with everyone else in the party about matters of economics, welfare, the NHS, defence, the environment, education, aid, foreign policy etc.

People complaining about the terms we’re under with the EU will be reduced to a rump, portrayed by media as Meldrewish malcontents who haven’t moved on from the eurosceptic days of the nineties, and the establishment will be at liberty to get back their traditional all-party fart-sniffing competition, during which time they can workshop ideas about how next to screw with the lives of us plebs, a good many of whom will again have no meaningful representation in parliament or public life.

Notice, by the way, that Delingpole is telling us not to blame his chum Boris for this being a dog’s breakfast, and that his chum Jacob Rees Mogg is selling this deal hard. Which very much aligns with what I’ve said previously about this pair.

The Spectator – which has been softening and moving to the woke left for a while now – has gone all in on Boris’s deal, as has the Telegraph. These being the only ever serious pro-Brexit organs, and both being former stomping grounds for Boris, wherein he no-doubt retains chummy connections, leaves those of us who still want what we voted for without any medium of support at all.

So I reject Boris’s deal, and all that flows from it, because it’s just a differently-dressed dogshit sandwich.

Death or glory!


P.S. All that said, if the long-term outcome of this is that the UK breaks up, shedding Northern Ireland and Scotland, then I’ll consider that a decent enough consolation prize.

I wrote some things about the Brexit Party recently, and why it would be impossible for the Tories to get into bed with them.

That was then, when I had done nothing to scratch the surface of the BP movement. Now I have had a look under the covers at the constituency level, I’m afraid I’m even more pessimistic.

Last week I attended a meeting to introduce the Brexit Party PPC for my area. Had I gone as an undercover remainer looking for succour, the occasion could not have passed more happily.

There is a woefully inadequate candidate, who has clearly had the benefit of no prior scrutiny or suitability vetting, no strategic guidance, no training and no support or facilitation from the centre, barring a few bundles of Brexit freesheets to hand out to volunteers who could put them through letterboxes.

And distributing those newssheets is all our candidate cared about. She had no thoughts even about which letterboxes they went through… no street-by-street or even ward-by-ward targeting. She couldn’t even spare 5 minutes to tell us who she is, what we were there for and what the party’s strategy is nationally and locally. I was left unpersuaded that she had a satisfactory answer for any of those questions, to be honest.

It’s clear from talking the old Kippers at the meeting who have been around the block with this, that the party harbours no ambition to win this seat in the affluent South-East, in spite of literally half the constituency having voted for Brexit. I guess Farage and Tice must have something like 50-100 target seats in the midlands and the north: just enough to hold the balance of power were a portion of those, by some miracle, elected. And I suppose they have to put candidates in every seat to mop up all the votes nationally, so they can point at the numbers and say, just as UKIP did in 2015, ‘no fair, we got 4 million votes and just one lousy seat in parliament.’

And then the remainers, Labour, Tory and LibDems can all point and laugh at the silly Brexiters.

I’m afraid to confirm it appears that the minute the election is called, the Brexit Party is going to be found out in the way I descrived previously and, after the ensuing media bloodbath, they’re going to do well to poll better than UKIP, less still get any candidates into parliament. It’s one thing not to want professional politicians, but if the alternative is politicians who can’t even convene and chair a meeting at the village hall, I’m not sure I’m buying what’s for sale.

Still, I suppose it solves the conundrum of letting Labour in through the middle by splitting the Tory vote.

It makes me sad though. A great many people are, once again, not going to get what they were solemnly promised, and after all hope and faith is lost, we’ll end up with millions more people, whether they realise it or not, in Galt’s Gulch.


Get used to it Greta…

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I don’t know how to tell you this, Greta, but welcome to the world. If you think what they did to your childhood is bad, I suggest you strap in for them screwing up your adulthood, your prospects for raising a family in safety, your retirement and any aspirations you may ever have. Trust me, the planet won’t be in your top 20 concerns by the time the show really gets going.

All this pre-supposes, of course, that she continues to subscribe to this pathetic version of the world where she has no agency. And it overlooks the fact that if anyone has responsibiity for the state of her childhood, it’s the parents who have scared her half to death with tales of environmental armageddon, and subsequently allowed this unfortunate girl to make a total fool of herself on the global stage, dancing to the tune of this very global leadership she purports to castigate.

I don’t know if I wish dawning realisation on her, because when it comes, it won’t be pleasant for her.


Put your money where your mouth is

There’s a law of nature that powers the world of jobsworths everywhere: If you don’t give a man something important to do, he will make whatever he is doing important.

Tim Newman has a good piece on his blog about the British* propensity to take opportunities for conformity and petty power-wielding to the nth degree, and how our national attitude of grumbling capitulation compares to that of the heroically intransigent French.

He tells a story about a BMW service manager’s ‘more than my jobsworth’ view of the world, but then pricks our bubble of righteous indignation thusly:

There’s nothing a British jobsworth likes more than pompously telling you something mundane is illegal, truth be damned.

I decided to take the car in anyway.

Okay. I get it. We all compromise our principles from time to time, in the interests of convenience or whatever is the perceived priority in the moment.

There was no reason for Tim to do so in this case. He could have taken his car elsewhere, to a reputable independent, for example. But no, he dropped his trousers and bent over for Derek Humdrum from BMW Service, then took to his blog to complain that his arse hurts.

Well, I’m sorry Tim. It’s not good enough. There are times when we must regrettably acquiesce to the idiot majority, but in the situation described there was absolutely no reason not to take your business elsewhere, and probably save a few quid  in the process.

If we keep giving in to the jobsworths and the pecksniffs, we do nothing whatsoever to discourage or disoblige them, or anything to favour those with a more reasonable and pragmatic view of the world. Both of which we should do at every available opportunity.

Resist the greyness!


*It’s not a uniquely British phenomenon – it’s also the Germans and the Scandinavians in my experience.

Fuck off, Dishface

I fondly imagined I’d never have to utter those words again, but he’s back.

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Naturally he’s getting a sympathetic hearing from the Remainer Sunday Times. I can’t imagine why anyone would do that except for those who desparately miss the murderous grinning chimp Blair.

And while it’s terribly sad that his child died, it does not detract from his calamitous time in office, his fake squishy conservatism and the way he dropped the B-bomb on the country and then fucked off as if he’d broken a household ornament and needed to scarper before nanny caught up with him.

Just in case you were thinking of buying his ghastly apologia of a book, and further feathering the nest of this cockroach, please don’t. Please download a ripped-off copy to read on your phone/tablet/laptop/etchasketch.

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I’ll post a link once the book’s out.



Progs rage against the effects of their own policies…

Woe is spreading amongst progressives about the problem of collapsing levels of rape conviction and rising rates of rape.

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Indeed it’s a problem that should concern us all, but some of us have some insight into why it might be happening that is lacking amongst those with the prog-blinkers on.

The collapse of rape trials is clearly a reaction amongst police and prosecutors in the wake of a series of scandalously mishandled complaints, during which their ”believe all victims” ethos – itself a begging of the question – whereby young men suffered procedural torment and reputational ruin, and only belatedly saw anything resembling justice when the lawyers deigned to look at the actual evidence exonerating the men.

The drip drip drip of women who have falsely accused men also has its effect in the minds of police, prosecutors and juries.

The rising incidence of genuine rape cases… well how to explain that? Perhaps the general emasculation of law enforcement has played a part. Perhaps the continuous incoming tide of people from places that have no respect for women has something to do with it.

Perhaps the sense of entitlement and the taboo of ‘slut shaming’ amongst young women – amongst other snubs to feminine virtue – is leading them to make choices that leave them more vulnerable than good sense would dictate. Perhaps their lack of regard for their own propriety and safety makes it difficult for authorities and juries to buy their tales of woe.

Every last thing here that contrubutes to the problem is a direct or indirect result of progressive political philospohy and policy. And yet they will never reaslise or accept it, because this is the one kind of cognitive dissonance they simply cannot entertain. It would break them. So they’ll double down again and demand more ill-conceived and poorly drafted laws, no doubt further disadvantaging innocent men accused of awful crimes.

The cycle of fuckwittery and ruined lives will continue. Justice will become an ever more distant dream for anyone unlucky enough to become tangled in the web of progressive nonsense.