Skip to main content

Right, I'm done.

It was Pastygate that did it, finally. Yes, I'm aware that that was the start of last week, and instant commentary and the inexorable flow of news has rendered this redundant but hey, this is coastalbog, it moves to its own damn time. Pastygate was the point I finally gave up.

I've limped along for years, hoping against scarred and battered hope that parliament was, ulimately, a force for good. Or if not that, at least a force for keeping the country staggering, gasping, along. Clearly not. And I'm a fool for thinking it. All those people I harangued for not voting over the years? I'm sorry guys, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.

You see, what did it for me, finally, was that in the week where the government, the fucking GOVERNMENT, were actively encouraging antisocial, fight in the streets and scrap for the last drop of petrol behaviour. In the week where the government, the fucking GOVERNMENT were unrepentant about essentially ho-ing it about for a quarter of a mill of premier league cock. In the week where the government, the fucking GOVERNMENT were more concerned with the semantics of the construction "jerry-can" than they were with RUNNING THE FUCKING COUNTRY. Where, oh where, were Her Majesty's Opposition?

In Gregg's.

Because some fucking genius in Millbank went "hey, like, yeah, the tories, like, never go to Gregg's yeah and like poor people totes go to like Greggs and we like are totes all about the poor people, yeah?"

Because, Ed, natch, spends every fucking spare moment he can queueing for a ham and cheese slice. This post, I am aware, contains a relatively high fuck quotient. And so it should. I'm fucking furious.

Galloway wins Bradford west. Galloway. A joke, a shot bolt, a one-hit wonder, somehow persaudes a 20% swing. The man who six months ago was lauding Bashar al-Assad as "that last Arab ruler, the true arab ruler" rips a massive swing vote out from under Labour's arses. The tories are interviewed about it, their vote went down 23%. All they can do is bleat about how it's worse for Labour. Ed's in Gregg's, Dave's having a "kitchen supper", Nick's hoping somone notices he's still here. Dear Labour: I don't care if you eat pasties, formulate some fucking policies. Dear Tories, if your vote goes down you're doing something wrong, I don't want to hear about how bad it was for somebody else, I want to hear about what YOU plan to do about it. Dear Lib Dems, bless you, are you still here? Really? Could have fooled everybody.

I'm done, I've had it. Finally, I'm sick of the bloody lot of them. Now I understand the plummeting voter turnout, now I understand voter apathy. It's not their fault, they were just a lot quicker on the uptake than me. The question is, if the whole system's fucked, which it clearly is, what next?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

What is happening?

An unpleasant, but in the grand scheme of things quite minor, incident occurred at a local school yesterday. Two lads entered the premises looking for another kid they wanted to assault. The school followed protocols and was locked down until the situation was resolved. Grim enough in and of itself, but not exactly a massive piece of news. Except, of course, on local Facebook pages, where a cast of many hang around visibly thirsting for events like this. This isn't a post about them, however. There is something desperately sad about a million posts on the same subject, everyone breathlessly recycling the same story without checking whether it might have already been covered. It speaks to an unfulfilled existence. Nor is this a post about Facebook and it's local pages, though they are a weird and interesting ecosystem. Were it not for running the pub, my Meta presence would be minimal, I need to be on there for work, and stuff like this is a necessary accoutrement. No, what depr...

Inedible

"He says it's inedible" said my front of house manager, as she laid the half-eaten fish and chips in front of me, and instantly I relaxed.  Clearly, I observed, it was edible to some degree. I comped it, because I can't be arsed arguing the toss, and I want to make my front of house's lives as simple as possible. The haddock had been delivered that morning. The fryers had been cleaned that morning. The batter had been made that morning (and it's very good batter, ask me nicely and I'll give you the recipe some time). The fish and chips was identical to the other 27 portions I'd sent out on that lunch service, all of which had come back more or less hoovered up, we have have a (justified, if I do say so myself) very good reputation for our chips. But it was, apparently, "inedible". When it comes to complaints, less is more. If you use a hyperbolic word like that, I'll switch off, you've marked yourself as a rube, a chump, I'm not g...

Worthless Art

Ah, we're back to calling humanities degrees rip-offs, are we? What a semi regular treat that is. There is a persistent strain of thought in British public life which runs thus: things are shit, blame clever people. When a politician needs a convenient punchbag, higher education is always a quick and easy mark. Everyone hates students, right? And those lecturers, bit up themselves, aren't they? And so Kemi Badenoch, bereft of ideas, takes up the cudgels once more, because why not? It's not like she's got anything else sensible to say. Might as well try and score a few populist points. Cuh, English degrees eh? What use are they?  Yes, this week, the erstwhile leader of His Majesty's Opposition decided to wander down a tired and well-trodden path and try to score a few points off the back of the much maligned Arts and Humanities. She's not the first, I highly doubt she'll be the last. She set out plans to a somewhat sparsely attended Conservative Party Confere...