Opinion: Giving up subtlety... (or a massive chunk of context for a throwaway gag)

Today would have been Michael Jackson's Birthday... if he hadn't died that is.

I was an obsessed Jackson fan as a child. The first Vinyl I bought was 'his'... 2 actually, 'Legend' and 'Triumph'... oh and I know they were both 'Jacksons' albums, but I was about 5... I wasn't there for Tito or Jermaine... I was there for Michael... and I know my Jacksons...

I stuck with him until the 90s, before abandoning him... for musical reasons... He'd changed his management, production team and even lost Rod Templeton as a song writing collaborator. He was given formulaic pop to sing, songs that could have gone to anyone...

I never gave those allegations much credence, believing that if even if hormone based medication given in his teens* hadn't actually 'chemically castrated' him, it had certainly altered his sexual drives. So although I do believe some of the the things that were alleged were inappropriate, and in fact someone in his staff should have grown a pair and told him to 'fucking pack it in with the kids sleep overs and stuff' I don't think he was a nonce... just foolish and coddled... it wasn't sexual behaviour... just lonely... and sad...

(*There are two versions of the 'hormone' conspiracy theory... one states that he was given a particularly powerful Hormone receptor inhibitor treatment for teenage acne, the dosage being enough to distort his hormone system permanently... the second version states the same, except that it was given to him with the intention of blocking puberty to delay changes to his voice)
But I respect his legacy... (maybe not as much as Prince, with hindsite.... although back in the day I would have cut my tongue out before saying anything like that)

When he died I was at Glastonbury. Tributes gushed from stages and jokes flew from tent to tent... some were good... most were not.

I remember seeing a man walking that morning, just hours after the announcement was made, with a T-shirt saying: 'Jackson 4'... That is a good joke. It is the best joke about his death I witnessed and is, to this day, the only one that made me audibly laugh. Most aren't like this, they're shockingly lazy, often recycled and with a nasty malice at the core...

So... why have I started a Blog about subtlety and the internet with a HUGE discussion about Michael Jackson?

Well, today... I posted a Michael Jackson Joke on Twitter and then on my Facebook. Facebook is fine. It's mainly real people I know and any douche is being a douche on purpose. Twitter on the other hand...

Well... let's just say it 'polarised'. Some were shrieking at me about whether I should even make a joke about him, whilst others tagged onto my post with a stream of exactly the bullshit, lazy, regurgitated pap-gags I just mentioned... and what was my joke? What was the group of nasty words, grouped nastily together to cause such ire?

"Today we commemorate the birthday of a legend, the late, great Michael Jackson and remember his gift to the world... jokes about Michael Jackson"

And how I wish I'd had this post, ready in advance, to send to both, equally dogmatic, ends of the spectrum.... it is the context... the life support system that allows subtlety to breath...

It's a horrible thing to dissect a joke... a joke reacts the same way as a frog woukd... i.e... it dies. But I'll do a few snips and hopefully leave it well enough to hop away...
At heart it's a simple misdirection gag. You think the 'Gift to the world' will be 'Music' if you're a fan, some bollocks about kids or plastic surgery if you're not... but it isn't it's 'jokes'... you are surprised and hopefully you laugh. That's the simple bit... the 'face value' bit...

It's also a joke about jokes, particularly the kind of joke that it is itself...

Honestly. That sentence does make sense. It's a joke about viral style celebrity gags and how they can blot out a genuine legacy... be honest, after Jackson died how many texts did you get discussing whether 'Off the Wall' is better than 'Thriller'?* No... you got texts about kids or surgeons... maybe Chimps...

*Off the wall is better than Thriller... fact

So that is what that Joke is about... it's neither pro or anti Jackson to be honest... it's a joke about jokes... and it's subtle. Which is why nobody on Twitter got the point... The internet can only deal in binary oppositions... black hat/white hat... like an old western. So to some I was a dick because I was making a joke that happened to mention their idol... to others it seemed I was inviting them to link a crass, stolen, ill thought out, gag, to mine...

No... I wasn't... I wasn't even starting a debate...
It was just a joke.... a subtle joke.

But, when presented with the evidence, I reckon it's time for me to give up on subtlety... so...
Duuur Duurrr Duuurrr Sex offences against kids are automatically funny whether they happened or not duurrr durr durrr you made a joke about someone I like so you know nothing and are bad durrr durrrr durrr plastic surgery is, by it's nature, hilarious durrr durrr durr durrrrrrrrr....
Repeat ad nauseum...
Die inside...

Opinion: Only the best in Human Achievement... oh and Will-I-Am...

So... you're in charge of a mission to Mars... the furthest place our youthful species has intentionally left it's first, tentative  mark... (I say intentionally because we've flung plenty of Astro-rubbish and board-stiff cosmo-dogs out there whilst taking these baby steps... do you think anyone spent millions retrieving the corpses of all those monkey-pilots we sent up?)

A robot called 'curiosity' will trundle around, taking pictures, zapping stuff with a laser, tweeting cute updates and generally being a hipster version of R2D2 without the potential for that Hilarious 'whistling noise which might be mistaken for censored swearing' gag...

At some point it is decided that this cute little big-trak will send back some music... the first Mars to Earth musical broadcast ever... in fact the first interplanetary dj set ever... Nothing like this has happened in the history of the universe... It's a big deal...

So, the pressure is on... It has to be right. Lucky you have the entire back catalogue of musical achievement to pick from, from the greatest symphonies, to the most heart-breaking ballads, to the most intricate IDM , to the most experimental jazz, to the most inclusive pop...

Given that, would you choose Will-I-Am?
Would I fuck!

Now... anyone reading this might think that a whole blog is a hell of a length to go to just to regurgitate an old Will-I-Am gag that I've done on Twitter before... probably not just me either... it's a sitter... I mean... it's the first think I thought of when I saw him... Literally... Will-I-Am, Would I Fuck... then I laughed myself into a coma... and by 'laughed' I mean 'Wept' and by 'Coma' I mean into 'my third bag of Haribo that night'

I remember the second thing I thought was: He would be a fine representative for a small English village if they ever happen to have an Olympic torch relay...

Honestly...

Anyway... the first ever broadcast from Mars Fm will be that guy... Not Bowie, the British Bard of space travel, not a piece by Mozart or Hendrix or Bach.... not 'Pump up the Volume' or Radiohead or Stevie Wonder... or even George Clinton and Afrika Bambaataa who are probably the most appropriate, being almost certainly aliens themselves...

Nope... we get William... Bill... Boring Bill... one of the ones from 'that band where they do a sample, then sing over a beat, repeat until fade or mass suicide'... But Why?

At first I thought we must have intercepted a broadcast from another civilisation... having painstakingly decoded it we have decided it is threatening in nature and this is our riposte... an auditory declaration of war on these far off adversaries...

Well, maybe warning shot... we'd save the big gun, Cheryl Cole, for when things got really dodgy, whereupon she will be shot at the alien race in order to deliver Geordie, 'Non-racist'* fisticuffs and horrifically off key vocals until they surrender or voluntarily explode...
(*No no no you cynics... Cheryl Tweedy didn't hit the black cleaning lady because she was black, it was because she was a cleaning lady.. so... not racist... legally... just a horrible, horrible person)

Unfortunately, despite being bad, Willie Yam isn't even good enough at being bad to be bad enough to broadcast for this reason... he's too... too boring. Any Alien hearing him might well imagine it was the audio equivalent of wallpaper paste... it's there for a job, but there's no way you'd notice it on it's own...

So, why use a poster child for tedious mediocrity... a 'rapper' that would make the Wham Rap look edgy...

Well... I think we did intercept a signal from Aliens, it is threatening and so, instead of sending out anything that might provoke an invasion we've opted for something so dull that nobody in their other-worldly minds would ever think of coming here...

"Fuck... what's that sound... where's it coming from?"
"The red one... it's sending it to the Blue/Green one"
"fuck... are those planets at war or something"
"Doesn't look like it"
"They should be... just... just turn it off... even though I can't understand the language you can tell he just keeps saying the same things over and over with the same noises happening"
"Must be what they're into in that Galaxy"
"Well...fuck going there... if they like music that takes longer to listen to than to make... they can piss right off... oh and tell all the other advanced races, until this lot can tell the difference between 'music' and 'a job lot of expensive samples unimaginatively assembled behind 7 or 8 words' there's no point in making contact"
"we could.. you know... just blast the galaxy into atoms?"
"They are suffering enough already"

So... in conclusion three points.
1) Will-I-Am is the greatest hero the earth has ever seen and all are indebted to him for every breath they draw

2) Space Travel is fucking awesome, but shouldn't pander to silly trends... it's a fucking Robot... and it's broadcasting from the surface of FUCKING MARS... if someone thinks it needs Will-I-Am to get 'the kids' interested then both they and those kids can fuck off... (although I suspect this isn't even the case judging by the Global reaction, from all ages, to the death of Neil Armstrong)

and,
3) I can't wait for the politicians to come back from wanking about on their holidays so I can actually write about something interesting... well not interesting... nothing is more interestinger than space travel... but something where I don't need a science doctorate to write something coherent and instead resort to a demented wibble about shit pop stars to find an 'angle'
*sobs*
Come back Clegg... all is forgiven...

Opinion: The Not-So-Current Bum (Or, 'news' without the 'new')

Today, that bastion of inestimable print jornalism, The Sun decided to bravely print pictures of a naked Prince Harry, caught in the act of 'Having Fun' in a vegas Hotel Room...

Some quarters are up in arms about this... it's all: "Post-Leveson" and "Intrusion" and "Blee" and "Blah"
Others are ecstatic about this... it's all "Post-Leveson" and "Press Freedom" and "Blee" and "Blah"

Anyone insane enough to have read this blog before might expect me to take the side of one particular set of Blee Blahs on this, and they'd have a point... I've never been shy in stating that print press is a running sore, and quite a dangerous one, spewing feculent puss into the trusting eyes of it's readers, and permanently warping the way they see the world...

I've never entirely bought that whole, 'we just hold a mirror up to the world' schtick...and the phrase that I am most proud of, as a writer, is the description of newspapers as 'Wanky Opinion Comics'... so I would scarcely call myself 'unbiased'...

(oh and I know this Blog is all opinion... that's why I put it in the title line... I also know that it's more than a little bit 'wanky'... but I never claim moral authority, and the only thing I hold a mirror up to is my own ravaged visage and then only briefly, before dropping it and shrieking...)

Anyway... although I don't 'like' the Sun in general and don't think they should have 'dun' it, it isn't for the usual "Oooh, Tabloids are Icky" reasons... in fact it's quite sympathetic... and I'd like to offer them some tactical advice... but in a nod to narrative convention I shall leave that to the end, hopefully forming some sort of conclusion that will make you nod to yourself in the cafe, take a sip of your 'victory' coffee and tearfully think to yourself 'I Love new Media'

So, perhaps as word padding, here are some of the reasons against publishing the pictures that I don't agree with/care a row of buttons about.

1) Intrusion.
I think it's fair to say that the 'intrusion' ship has sailed... thoroughly... in fact this ship has sailed, arrived, docked, been decommisioned and replaced by an airline service. That airline service is called 'The Internet' and it was airdropping these pictures whilst it's rival was still loading up the 'Limes for Scurvy'

This isn't a tabloid buying gutter pics of gussets, or doorstopping some poor unfortunate caught up in a celebrity affair, or even showing an 'evil' picture of someone accused of an atrocity, but who may well be innocent.. No... this is someone, allowed into the inner sanctum, armed with one of those 'oh-so-rare' camera phones the kids have these days... whether they were 'leaked innocently' or not, it still has more in common with a misjudged Facebook Pic going viral than a guy dressing as a comedy arab billionaire for stings.

No, the intrusion was that douche who brought the camera, and then let then pics onto the internet.... the currant Bun simply doesn't have the readership to beat it...

2) Respect for the Royals.

This... well I couldn't care less about respecting them. That's the Sun's job... I have nothing against them particularly, for the most part I don't consider them at all, until the media force them down our throat or someone uses 'Royal Assent' to ease us into a war. I find them a vaguely amusing tradition, quaint little set dressing that looks good on the periphery of things like... say, the Olympic ceremony... or that Jubilee thing... imagine that without royals... just a bunch of soggy boats and Paul McCartney singing Hey Jude... to himself... that would just be upsetting

The Sun seems to veer wildly in it's opinion, from serf-like deference, usually when some Johnny Foreigner makes some small faux pas against the myriad inexplicable social rules that surround them, all the way through to disdain for minor royals who dare to prefer theatre to war... (which, with a Patriarch like Phillip is probably the braver decision)...  all this via a pervish voyeurism, particularly if they are lucky enough to have some fresh, human DNA stirred into them and are thus 'attractive'...

So... I respect them to a point... but not as far as worrying about these pics... He looks quite good in them, fairly 'fit' and clearly enjoying himself... he is also clearly 'not a Lizard'... sorry Icke, no zipper down his back... fair play to the girls as well... he's a catch... nobody really comes off badly... except the douche who brought the camera and let the public into a bit of private sexy horseplay. The Douche..

The Royals just come across as a bit more fun... and therefore put off their inevitable binning for a few more years.

3) Questions of Public 'Decency'
Don't make me laugh... The posed mock up that they'd already printed trumps that thoroughly. Wealthy socialites being candid snapped is one thing, getting a 21 year old female intern to get her kit off batters that in the indecent stakes...

If there's a bare 19 year old pontifacating on the day's most intellectual stories on the third page, then the naked man ass on the other pages will do little damage to the moral fibre of the readership... in fact it might strike some necessary balance...
So what is my problem with this move?

Well, this may sound strange, but I thought the adversary more worthy than this... It seems like the move of a weak king, dressed up as a show of strength...

Ok... it's being pitched as a two fingers to Leveson... people in the News Int camp are saying this is the newsman taking back the news from the judiciary... it's bold... it's brave... it's the press rising from the ashes...

But of course it isn't... if they'd published on Wednesday that might be true, but now... too late. You aren't the brave boy who swaggered past teacher early on the last day of school, you're the ninth... and you're muttering 'But he did it first sir' as you display this defiance...

This is so disappointing to me. I like the Sun to know how strong it is... simply because it still fucking is... it is stronger than a gossip blog, or some little website... but it lets then take the flack and then claim that it's leading the charge...

Now... for me, they should have just styled it out... tried taking the moral high ground... say it isn't news anymore... because it isn't... it was on Wednesday... and quite frankly, in the position that all Print Media is in, I wouldn't be trying to emphasise how much braver, faster and more plugged in the online media is...

No... I'd be leaving that sort of bobbins to the anarchic world of the blogger and empasising all the advantages of print... whatever they may be... I just know that it isn't speed or bravery...
If you're admitting that a nerd in their bedroom, in baggy pants with food stains, can best your media empire... well, you start to look like an endangered species, a big lumbering thing... close to death and wheezing...

...and print media isn't there...

Well... not quite yet.

Opinion: All hail our new I.H.S Overlords! (Or how to use Jingoism to get TeamGB behind your wacky idea)

Bloggers choice: Today I had two things to potentially write about on here...

1) a light fluff piece gently mocking the N.H.S 'brand' proposals... based around an image that I find amusing

B) A strongly researched and controversial polemic about providing assisted suicide facilities to the physically healthy, but mentally shattered... this would not be a light read. It would be uncomfortable and heavy, like receiving a mercury enema in a gravity well...
Luckily, number 1 wins... fluff rules the day, it's easier to be flippant than to bother with serious research in this humidity to be honest... but stick around for that other one... it will appear eventually... and it'll be a 'Laff Riot' akin to Leigh Francis doing all of his 'character' at you... in a locked room... forever.

So instead of that I bring you fluff... and Fluff that will only deal in boundless positivity...

...and that might be tricky, because I'm planning a fluff piece about changes to the N.H.S... A subject that usually gets all sides in the political spectrum frothing incoherently... much like the 'pro-life debate' for the U.S, it is as divisive as it is obvious who is in the right.

Today the idea was floated to make the N.H.S a global health brand... a provider to the  world, probably on  the back of that very subtle advert Danny Boyle snuck into that Olympic Shindig... with Brand N.H.S's stock being so high it is no surprise that the world is crying out for merchandise: Bieber fans are throwing away posters of their hero and instead putting up N.H.S issue, 'standardised patient assessment sheets' whilst Lady Gaga was seen wrapping herself in N.H.S issue surgical bandage and saying: "Healthcare... I am a snake... the snake is art and my little monsters are provided free at the point of delivery... woop... I have a new single you know"
A phrase which 'Pop Linguistic' experts theorise may 'have something to do with the N.H.S... perhaps'

But how do you sell this idea back home. You could use 'numbers'... blather a load of statistics: 'if we blah blah in overseas markets blee blah blah we could improve investment in Bibble bibble Blee Blah and...'

Of course everyone in Britain knows that any number issued by an authority figure is likely to be utter nonsense... so... you have to appeal to something foreign and strange... something new to the national psyche, in order to  get slip it under the conscious radar and sneak it around the layer of cynicism that makes up 80% of the national character.
 
You have to appeal to 'National Pride'

Before the Olympics, the only thing Britain was honestly proud of was our self-depracation. Now... well... if Bradley Wiggins had asked for a peasants revolt... well, let's just say Westminster would have a row of head on spikes, the country would be renamed 'Team GB' and we would have our first, for life, genuine 'God-King'... and he would be a cyclist...

...and it is in this spirit that the Government needs to market this latest N.H.S change if they want us to really 'go for it'...

This isn't the old N.H.S, sitting around and waiting for illness to come to it, this is Team G.B.N.H.S and its going to chase down bad health, regardless of which country it's skulking in, catch it and kick it's putrid face off, before planting a Union flag in the glistening raw head flesh and singing a rousing rendition of 'Hey ]ude'...

Eventually we'd have Giant Robot Hospitals roaming the world on arachnid-style legs, firing anti-retroviral drugs into mouths of grateful H.I.V sufferers who weep and wave the new flag of the I.H.S, a clenched fist, clutching a syringe, punching a virus in the throat... however that might look.
On the horizon, a great flotilla of giant 'destroyer class' hospitals would rule the waves, surrounding a territory before bombarding it with sexual health advice pamphlets, prescriptions and quality assured surgical implements.

The commandos of this elite I.H.S could invade sovereign nations, bringing healthy foods and forcing a regime of cardio exercise onto people who are, in all honesty, slightly less appreciative than the H.I.V sufferers were.
But still, under the flag of the Great British N.H.S (Brand) they would be welcomed around the world.

The job, to make you healthy, even if they have to fuck you up to do it...

In fact people would be so joyous and grateful that they would spontaneously throw money at this I.H.S, so it could do that most implausible of tasks of being free at the point of delivery whilst still, somehow providing funding for the coffers back home...

The People of the U.K would love this new, go getting, health service more than ever... We'd cheer it on like an Olympic boxer that had won a gold despite 'only getting into the sport a few years ago'... we too would start buying the Team G.B.N.H.S merchandise... the 'official' catheter, the repeat prescription, the essential medical procedure...

...and it would all be so exciting that we'd probably even never notice that it was no longer 'National' or 'Free'...

Harsh Sleep Deprived Opinion: Late Entry in The Bellend Olympics (or, Spelling the 'Cult' of personality with an 'N')

I am never at my best when tired.
It makes me snarling and irritable...
It makes me want to go into a field of sacred cows armed with frag grenades, a chainsaw, bleary eyes and a wonky grin

There is a fair chance that some people might be offended by what I do to to this particular Bovine... but A) I'm too tired to give a 'Flying one at a Rolling One' and B) This guy is an utter Douche... I  mean really... Pick your heroes with a bit more care and you won't have to read stuff like this..

You may notice a lack of swearing thus far... that is a conscious decision... if I were to allow myself that little luxury then this post would have just been a copy/paste of an online profanity dictionary, with a name at the end... and that name: Julian Assange

Who is wizened enough to remember the first time any allegations were brought against Michael Jackson? I do... I was a child... I loved Jacko... I thought it was outrageous that my idol should have to answer to anything... on the other side they hated Jacko, and they also didn't think he needed to 'answer' for anything... just be strung up as a sex offender.   

Now, with the benefit of Hindsite I imagine there must have been cooler heads, smart people who said: "Well these are serious allegations and they need a thorough and transparent hearing"

Yeah... those people would have existed, but I wouldn't have heard them... or heard them as 'enemies', because my stupid, cola-bottle addled, child's brain could only process information in Black and White.

3 Points about that.
A) Does that kind of thinking sound familiar to you?

2) I still don't think Jackson's behaviour had a sexual dimension, but getting into bed with other people's kids is weird, creepy and someone should have delivered a healthy slap early on and told him: "Not Ok!"

D) Aren't you glad I didn't go for the Black/White gag? Someone, somewhere would have enjoyed it... but I wouldn't... I'd feel like a twattish mid-90's Comedian... and if you think you might have preferred to read that kind of joke, please leave... now... not a joke... roll up your laptop or smartphone as best you can and insert it into your colon in whichever manner you find most comfortable and do one...

Ok... with all of that in mind I shall begin... and remember... On this one I'm actually one of the 'cool heads'... even if my delivery is akin to a rabid tramp swearing at a goose in recycling bin...

Ok... I will now put in a point by point polemnic about why Saint Jules of Assange is just being a douche these days.

1) What's the opposite of a Martyr?

Politically, I am on the side of Wikileaks. I believe they do important works and may have donated to them in the past... I say 'may' in case any recruitment agencies are reading this and are put off by the idea of me donating money to a whistleblowing database, in which case that is something I didn't do...

Unfortunately the Wikileaks team now seem to be mainly a sounding board for Assange. Fair enough if his allegations are related to free speech issues... like say... Bradley Manning... but they aren't... they are to do with gross misuse of what that great 'Poet of the Penis', Russell Brand might call a 'Dinkle'...

Whether the allegations are criminal or not I'll return to later. Whether they are worth mobilising the entire force of a large organisation like Wikileaks for I can answer now... No... don't be stupid... Every association with this tawdry little escapade makes the once mighty Wikileaks look less a people's channel for disseminating  important information and more a happy-clappy cult of Guru worship.

He is using the whole Wikileaks organisation as a shield and it infuriates me... If it's non hierarchical, you should treat all individuals based on merit... in which case Manning should be the centrefold, and Assange airbrushed out. If, however, Assange is the actual 'leader' he should act like one and answer the legal questions so as not to damage the organisation, not act like every attack on him is an attack on Wikileaks, free speech, Puppies, Kittens, Sugar, Spice and 'All things nice'

2) Being a douche isn't a crime?

This is without a doubt my favourite nonsense misreading of these allegations. The upshot goes: 'Sure... he said he'd wear a condom... but the cheeky scamp took it off... whatyagonnado?'

So people see it as a douche-move... not a crime...

Ok... first off... the initiation of sex is NOT when that Condom is most needed... The... ahem... 'climax' is where it does it's best work... where it earns it's kudos... taking it off halfway through means you really needn't have bothered in the first place... Unless there was something else going on...

Ok... so in Law, consent to sex is kind of a legal contract... it is binding and can be withdrawn or amended... importantly it can have 'conditions'... if the condition of consent includes wearing a condom, then that's what you do... all the way through...

Put it in this, equally romantic and erotic, perspective... if she was selling him a car on the condition that he stuck to an agreed payment plan, but he stopped paying and kept the car... that is theft isn't it? Likewise... if the allegations are true, it is rape.

Now, perhaps these charges are 'trumped up'... but I don't know because the victims can't have their day in court... remember, if it's true then actual rape victims are getting silenced because the perpetrator is figurehead for a free speech website... if not well, he can clear himself and really stick it to the Governments of the world... wonder why he's not doing that?

Oh... and I'm not even going to get into the utter bellendry of doing that to a woman who specifically asked him to 'wrap up'... They stretch you know Jules... and no matter how large your mighty mutant Martyr's member is It would not burst because of such confinement...

If you don't respect your partner enough to follow the conditions... you don't deserve the 'play'... no matter how much of a rock star freedom fighter you think you are...

3) This isn't a spy film douche...

Now, I know Wikileaks is a massive irritant to many Governments, and it has also provided those same Governments with information on other Governments who in turn got angry with Wikileaks... I'm sure there are many in the intelligence services who would love to see him go away forever...

But that doesn't mean that this is entirely a political escapade... the best evidence for which is Assange's recent behaviour. He seems to want to portray himself as the Anti James Bond... a government wrecking cross between Jason Bourne and Ernesto Guevara... but that isn't how he's acting... frankly he's acting like a teenage film douche...

Ok... track record... and for this exercise let's assume he's completely innocent.
He is accused of an offence in Sweden... scarcely a tin-pot dictatorship rife with kidnappings and the kind of debt that leads to overly dodgy deals... No, they're seen as fairly calm sorts, who are of course signed up to the same declarations as us, which prevent extradition where real harm is probable... those pesky human rights acts that the Daily Mail bleat about...

So, does he answer these high-profile allegations in the full glare, and by that toke, protection of the worlds Media? No... he legs it. Ending up in Britain... perhap's he's a secret Daily Mail reader and believes all their 'Soft Justice' rhetoric... What he isn't is a tactician... Britain has a much more favourable extradition process with the US than Sweden... Damn!

So he's now in a far worse position if ending up in The US is his real fear... but not if his real fear is ending up in Sweden and facing these charges... anyway... he appeals to the highest UK courts... all of which decide there is a case to answer... In Sweden... to which he shrieks: 'But I don't want to go to the U.S' and legs it to an Embassy... and then it gets really weird... I mean proper demented...

He runs to Ecuador for help. Ecuador who don't really have much sympathy for human rights causes. Ecuador, who admittedly don't have a strong extradition process with America, but also don't have any human rights protection in place if they did decide to bow to pressure.

I don't think it's unreasonable to say that Ecuador are, at best, accepting him as a political pawn, either to show defiance of the US, or... well maybe something more nefarious.... Put it this way, if it was me, I'd be worried that Ecuador might arrange an under the counter deal with the U.S... Their pockets are deep and anyone can use a little extra money... of course, that would only worry me if the U.S were my real concern... not Sweden...

Of course, if you're (hypothetically, of course) trying to stir up as much publicity as possible and avoid Sweden, those actions make perfect sense... if not they look like the plot to a rubbish spy movie...

4) Thinking you're the centre of the Universe is 'Anti-Copernican'*
(*A joke adapted from Prof Brian Cox being witty)

But didn't he offer to be questioned in Sweden if they assured he couldn't be extradited to the U.S... and also offered to be questioned by Swedes, under juristiction, in London?

Yes... and doesn't that appear reasonable?

Sort of, if you think you're the centre of the universe and that intricate international law is just a set of guidelines that can be abandoned for the convenience of one man. Sweden is legally bound by it's extradition process with the U.S... they cannot assure him of anything, because it may turn out he's done something. Under those circumstances they would be in breach of international law if they kept to that assurance.

Likewise the U.K is legally bound by it's commitment to Sweden... they simply cannot let him leave U.K soil. Also, allowing the questioning to take place here is in violation of both UK and Swedish Law... and while all this is going on, the UK remains bound by diplomatic agreement with Ecuador. It cannot use the loopholes available to get at him, no matter how much simpler that would be, because it would set a precedent... Law is complicated. You can't just mess them about all over the place, ignoring any consequencr, just because you are the almighty 'You'

Conclusion:

Yeah... I'm expecting abuse for this one, mainly from people who think that defending Assange and defending Free Speech are the same thing. But this is just my own, personal, sleep deprived opinion... That said... That he's a douche and he's using a noble organisation to shield himself from the consequence of his own douchey, egotistical actions...

Who can remember Sabu... the hacker who was compromised by intelligence services and ordered to undermine Anonymous? Well they want to  ask for their money back... he's an amateur compared to Assange... and it's outrageous. Now more than ever the world needs Wikileaks to be Wikileaks... Not a message board for a publicity-obsessed narcissist.

(P.S. There is really no need to call me a douche... I already know this... and am I in the Pay of the Lizard People? No... but I am welcome to most offers...)

Opinion: 2 Messy Break-ups at once...surely David Cameron is the unluckiest man who ever lived..

Now that the Olympics are well and truly over and the dust has settled, it's time to take a chilled, dispassionate look at all the winners and Losers... and for once it is utterly clear on this occasion who is who...

There’s something strangely perverse about feeling sorry for David Cameron. Never has a man appeared to be so designed for high office… presumably from conception onwards he was supposed to be 'the boss'... In fact this may have been one of the few occasions that the subject came up during the conception.
"I tell you what dear, if I hit the target with this little blighter, I'm sure our boy... and it will be a boy... will one day use his thoroughbred Genetics and inherited wealth to hold a fractional lead in a messy coalition Government"

Given that, my feeling pity for him must be roughly akin to a levied peasant in Egypt worrying about how the Sun God Ra is getting on with the other Gods.
But I do feel sorry for him. In fact I think he is currently the unluckiest man in the world...

... and here's why;

The Olympics, and lack of  political news have highlighted the fact that D-Cam appears to be going through all the trappings of a very messy break up… except in this case, he's in the impossible position of handling two ex’s at once. Two... and I can tell you that is the most unenviable position in the world.
Making it worse, neither are particularly subtle.. in fact, although very different, both are equally troublesome, publicity happy and keen to tell all of Dave's mates how he was "crap in bed and was scared to pathetic blubbing by the (utterly dreadful) Paranormal Activity films"

Well... Metaphorically speaking of course...

Nick Clegg has taken the route of the 'mopey fantasist' Ex... My personal favourite… He’s wailing about how it was 'That Bastard' who broke the rules of the relationship: "The bastard… *sniff* the utter utter bastard... but, we have to stay together for the children and... *sob*... and I still love him and you know… maybe If I lose that extra pound and *sniff* have my hair done he’ll still want me back… we can still make this partnership work... I know we can... *Massive theatrical breakdown*"

You can imagine Nick starting off the evening by getting ready to go out, putting on new shoes, spending a lot of his time making the new 'break up hair do' look ‘just so’, all whilst listening to inspiring power ballads.

But you can also imagine him ending that same evening having not gone anywhere. Eye make up running down the cheeks, looking at reception pictures of him and Dave in the ‘Rose Garden’ in happier days and instead of ‘I will survive’ he’s snivelling along to ‘The Winner Takes it all’ using an empty gin bottle as a microphone… But on the news.To the whole nation.

And then there’s Boris… The 'Other Ex'

He of course has gone completely the opposite way: genuine confidence, looking great, his new hairdo has worked a treat, and now the serious business of flirting with all of Dave’s old mates can begin.
Now when both of them turn up at the same party, like say, the Olympics, it's the Glamorous Bojo the crowd are all waiting for… nobody looks over at Dave at all, except with shifty, suspicious, sideways glances... and when Bojo finally silks in, all glittering smile and lush barnet, all the heads turn... even Dave's as he is briefly distracted from standing in the corner, trying to appear casual... and as if he still totally belongs there, whilst putting on his best 'Not at all bothered over here' face...

But all the onlookers know what he’s really doing there… You can imagine the conversation going something like:
Wealthy Tory Donor 1: "Oh god HE’s here.."
Wealthy Tory Donor 2: "Well I didn't invite him"
WTD1: "Nobody does these days.. I tell you he better not come over all jealous and make a scene..."
WTD2: "I know... he shows up everywhere... like a stalker..."
WTD1: "Well... I'm not standng for it... Look, if he even looks like he's going over there.. yeah... you just get between them… I reckon I’m going to go for the first dance tonight"

This is Boris being wooed by the city… (apparently)… the form this 'wooing' might take I dread to think. With our BoJo it could be almost anything. The upshot remains the same: some powerful people seem very keen that Boris should be the next Tory candidate to be Prime Minister.

How do we know this, well probably because a completely different group of powerful people have engineered a leak to make it look like the first group of powerful people want him in.. either way at least one group of powerful people genuinely think that their best interests are served with the Ex…
Poor D-Cam knows this… and even as he tries to show himself off at public events, being all 'over the relationship' and 'well casual' and 'proper virile'… he's still got that other ex in the background, snivelling: "No No No... We're together... you need me… we can be back how it was… the Coalition cannot fail..."

...and if you can't feel sorry for that predicament... well... you are either made of stone... or you're one of those ex's mentioned above... and if you are... and you're actually reading this... the message is simple:
"You go girlfriend..."

A Cheery wave to Potential Future Employers

Hello there.
There are many reasons you may be reading this. Perhaps you are a political 'slash fiction' obsessive and have Googled the phrase 'George Osborne Piss Bukkake'... terms which have brought people to this blog in the past, whereupon I cannot even begin to imagine the 'wilting' disappointment they experienced.

You may be a friend of mine, scanning my gibberings for 'cries for help' or other evidence of that cataclysmic breakdown that has been in the post for two decades. Don't worry, I am a 'Brinksman'... All the pleasure for me is derived from sailing close to the edge, giving every impression that I will fall at any moment, but, in reality I am never less than completely in control... The bouts of hysterical laughter/weeping/animal impressions are just theatrical tools I employ.

Maybe I tricked you into coming here, luring you from your preferred social network by attaching the link to a gag, or hashtag, that was just too damn enticing to pass up... In which case, sorry... the entries prior to this are much more entertaining... oh and can you click on the 'music links' dotted around this page... you don't even have to listen... you can mute them... I'll never ever know that*, but I will see the 'play' statistic one day and it will make me smile... think of it like charity... but free... and for someone who doesn't particularly deserve, or need it.
(*Unless of course you leave me a comment telling me... but at least I'd get a comment then... I keep hearing about a plague of 'Trolls'... they must be afeared of me)

You may even be a member of #TeamBozier...

Most likely you've got here through the 'Badly Drawn Roy' post... which still gets plenty of visitors every day. He seems to be doing ok, although I have had no further direct contact with him. I'm happy to have helped, although the people who contacted me about it seemed to massively over-estimate my involvement...

There is however a possibility that you are a recruiter, or an employer, who has Googled my name to see what that sewer of human behaviour, the internet, will vomit onto their desks when my name is uttered...

... and Luckily you've ended up here first, and not my 'George Osborne Many-Wee-Wonder-site'... (Which honestly doesn't exist... although it should... and if I had the erotic fiction skills I would make one... I mean, look how well 'Fifty Shades of Lame' is doing... now... 'Mild Squirm' fiction for girls... that's where the money is)

So hello to you... and whatever job you're searching me for, I can assure you I'll be very good at it... and of course much more hard-working than is apparent on  this Blog.

I am however puzzled as to what you hope this little search will achieve? Really... I'm not complaining... far be it from me to deride your procedures Potential Future Boss... that would be stupid... but, has nobody ever told you: Nobody is completely themselves on the internet... because that is what the internet is for.

Some of my friends who read this blog have asked me about this: Am I worried about what I write on here, bearing in mind that you... yes 'you' are actually now reading it... (Oooh... how 'Meta'... if you are a recruiter reading this blog, drop me a clever comment... and then give me that job... whatever it is)
...and the answer to that is: 'of course not'... it's a mildly snarky opinion, music, social media and politics blog, it could never have any bearing whatsoever on my ability to do any job... it's fluff...
So those same friends ask: Well... what about your portrayal of yourself as an acerbic misanthrope who lives entirely in the realms of social media and the internet...

Well... in that case I have to entrust in the intelligence of the reader (You... Yes, your intelligence... high pressure I know) I imagine if you are able to use a search engine, you will be able to understand the difference between the real world and the 'let's pretend' world.

I mean, I bet at least half of you immediately started shaking your head when you saw that I used that awful, tawdry 'A friend asked me' device a few moments ago in a vain attempt at keeping this meander-wagon steered in the right direction... Of course I've never been asked these questions... anyone who asked them would be insane, and incapable of any human interaction... let alone 'Friendship'. As soon as those questions left their non existent lips, I'd punch them in their non-existent face... except of course I wouldn't because 'they' don't exist... and the 'me' that types this is an internet persona...

All clear?

So the queation remains: What can you really learn about someone from the internet?
The Answer: Well... nothing really... nothing of any use in the actual material, fleshbag world... Why? because the internet allows, nay encourages all of us to lie and exaggerate...

Someone I know says on Facebook (complete with imagex flitered to resemble a Polaroid shot): 'OMG Had The Awesomest Breakfast Ever!'
They didn't... it was fry up... just an unremarkable fry up without black pudding... a fact which no 'trendy' filter can disguise

Someone else says 'Big night last night... proper dead now'
Well they aren't are they? There's no way to Tweet from beyond the grave... (or is there? see previous post... whether this idea interests you or not, it's simply funnier than this one)

The internet is no better a source of important recruitment information than a horoscope... or the graffiti on a toilet door... or the ravings of the woman behind the bottle bins at Tesco who insists I am Roy Orbison...

On the other hand, this you can trust implicitly oh wise, witty and attractive recruiter person...
I'll be bloody great at that job...
Whatever it is...
...oh and I like Black pudding on a fry up...
Don't judge me...

Internet startup: Inanity beyond death... How to continue to babble from beyond your, richly deserved, grave...

For those few people who have read this blog more than once (stalkers, sexual deviants lured in by odd search terms, blog favourite #TeamBozier and the like) I may come across as a 'Tron-Like' figure... a man made of  light and wires, who zips around and unreal social media universe on his lightcycle... or special effect 'line'... without a care in your dull, matter-based, human world...

But of course I do have a 'care' in that vile human world, with its 'smells', unusual impulses and personal stickiness and no matter how much I try to ignore it, it stubbornly refuses to stop existing... a great big lumpy, fleshy 'care' that needs to be tended and fuelled and generally maintained whilst reacting in all sorts of disturbing and unpleasant ways to various stimulation under the smug excuse of 'emotional response'

Yes I am talking about the skinsack that holds all the important bits together, my body... the envelope that contains the 'essential me' on it's tedious journey from birth to death, via a series of trips to chain coffee outlets and bouts of existential despair. There is no upgrade scheme for this piece of hardware incidentally... and the only people seriously looking into separating the useful parts from the meat bag are 'Astral Scientists' who seem to think the solution involves smoking weed and engaging in marathon staring sessions at patterns from old, failed cultures they pretend to understand... as opposed to my preferred solution which involves highly invasive and destructive surgery and a 70 foot tall mechanical body..

Yes, ALL of you internet people are, like me, attached to a load of biological processes in shoes... which will, like all inferior biological technology, clap out on you one day... it will die..completely.. and there is no way off stopping it, and there's no reboot... it will be gone, but the real you... the internet you, will just continue to exist, trapped in limbo without those fleshy sausages to press the buttons that allow it to be...

But it doesn't have to be this way...

And that's where my new start up business comes in... for a small cash cost and an incredibly dangerous operation we will attach sensors to all of your major organs. When these notoriously temperamental bio-components finally, and inevitably wear out, a signal will be sent to our HQ and one of two of our exclusive packages will be activated.

1) Basic 'Last words' package.
On our cheapest package, the exact moment you die, one of our operatives will seize control of all your social media profiles in order to process that final update... this can be a factual appraisal: Cause of Death*, time etc... a profound comment, either self composed or created with one of our crack team of greetings card inlay writers...

Of course, death doesn't have to be a downer. you could go for something 'lighter' like: "Dead now, LOL" or perhaps "All your grave are belong to me"

If you happen to have complicated legacy arrangements that involve pirates, traps or haunted houses you could use this service to give your grieving relatives that first, fun 'starter clue'... the limits are only your imagination... and of course the psychological frailty of your next of kin...

*Note, the 'factual appraisal' option is not recommended for all and we cannot be held responsible for any breakdowns and/or copycat suicide/murders resulting from your nearest and dearest reading that you have just ’passed on’ due to severe rectal trauma, dressed as a girl guide in the shopping precinct of Ipswich town centre...

2) Our premier service works in exactly the same way as the budget one, except... it won't stop! Instead, our highly advanced bank of computers will analyse your posting style based on criteria such as: Overall inanity, fondness for pictures of cats, misunderstanding of what the word 'troll' means in an internet context, weird belief in conspiracies... etc etc...

Then the magic happens...

After a curt announcement regarding the (not especially) 'sad' demise of your sagging protein vessel, your social media  accounts will continue 'as normal', but with our machines matching your posting frequency and style, but obviously surpassing your pitifully inadequate 'human' wit, wisdom, profundity and spelling... for ever... and ever... and... well you get the point...

Sounds good eh?

Now to ask Louise Mensch and Go #TeamBozier if they want in...
We will make this happen... for you...

Opinion: David Cameron... Not really a Lizard.. It was a trick!

Yesterday Nicola Adams made History by being the first British Olympic Boxing Champion in the Women's event.

It was an amazing display of athleticism and will. She is a sporting Legend

Everybody watched it. Everybody enjoyed.

David Cameron was watching it. He tweeted a picture on the official Number 10 Feed.

Bless him. Even if it wasn't staged... Well... It definitely looked that way... and it was. I mean... Did he set it on a Timer and prop it up behind the kettle? Nope.

Photoshop/Visual Humour  GOD Beau B'Dor  kicked it off. I won't put his here. Suffice to say they are amazing.... and they would make mine look the amateur hour quick and dirties they are... 

But, I thought, This could be fun. So... Presented below are my contributions to this fledgling meme:

 Dunno what the fuss is about... he looks totally natural here...

David Cameron watching something to remind him of happier times..

Come on.. That Picture was BEGGING for it... I mean... Look at it.

Now... I don't think Cameron is literally a Lizard man... That is far too tin foil hat, even for me... But Come on... it looks funny... he looks like a Lizard. Like in V... or in David Icke's head... so it went down ok, and yeah... a few people passed it around. I got R.T's and even a few utterly uncredited prints of it on 'News Blogs'...  Hence I record it here, under my name.... It's a joke... a silly joke.

But The picture below that. David Cameron watching Boris Floundering in a River... Well that one didn't go down as well.. in fact it sank with no trace... Pity really, because with the time he's having with Boris recently... well, I imagine he would greatly enjoy watching the great White-Maned Woolly Wonder bobbing off down a river... smiling at the thought that, this time, he might finally be gone forever...

Anti-Viral: Dumb-ass Nostalgia Posts... or 'Hit like if you also used to Put your face in a bucket of wasps, broken glass and Sulphuric Acid'

Hello...
Welcome to the first in an irregular series in which I, your splenetic and bilesome narrator, attempt to hook, land and gut the most nauseating memes that float past my beady eye...

First up... Those 'wasn't the time of MY childhood great' messages that Facebook vomits periodically into my timeline once or twice a week...

They are usually put there by people who haven't bothered reading them to the end... I don't blame them... Aside from a sentimentality that is so cloying that even a scouse Peter Kay fan might regard them as a 'bit too Mawkish', they then throw in a weird 'Daily Mail' style 'Cor Blimey that safety thing is a bit Silly isn't it?' attitude to further lose any touch with reality..

If you're on a social network, you will have seen a variation of this meme. They usually turn up with half a million 'likes' and a closing line that says something like:
'Share if you drank from the garden Hose and survived'
'Hit like if you went hungry for refusing your Mom's food'
'Hit like and share if you think that progress and increased wellbeing is shit and you would actually rather time go backwards to a fantasy, 'Lord of the Rings' when you could juggle chainsaws on a bike without a helmet down an unlit road with no phone or medicine without the PC brigade jumping on your back'*
(*well... that's the Subtext anyway)

That in mind I wrote this and sent it into the world...

"My Curfew was when it got dark, even though I had no idea what the word 'Curfew' meant and the fact that 'When it gets Dark' changes year round, meaning it was often grossly unfair and arbitrary. 

When it was time to come in I had to go immediately and if it was late I would worry my Mum, because there was no easily obtainable, portable, communication device that could have allayed her fears... and when we were chased by what used to be called a 'stranger' (statistically, a more common occurrence then than today) there was no way to get help other than screaming for it through a haze of tears and snot.

Infant mortality, abductions and violent crime were higher, but there was no liquid soap.. so that was better... right?

Oh and although you could get your mouth washed out with soap for being 'cheeky', you probably wouldn't for being Racist, Sexist or Homophobic, because that was the staple of 'Entertainment' shows and was thus Okey-Dokey-Fine. 

Yes, I rode a bike without a helmet, and the two times I crashed it it was dumb, blind luck that saved me from death and not well-made safety equipment.

Getting Dirty was ok, but due to the less advanced washing machines/detergents of the time, getting your clothes dirty was not... oh and incidents of filicide through 'Zealous Discipline' were also far far more common...

Click Like if You too have a deluded and vaguely sinister attachment to a period in history, insisting it is somehow 'better' just because it was when you were young!"

I'm guessing my half a million likes and shares are stuck in an internet pipe somewhere. I can wait...

Do I have a point or am I just being a sarky clever clogs?

Well...a little from column A, little from Column B...

I am a sarky clever clogs, but my point is... Things are getting better, both in this country and across the globe. Crime is going down, diseases have better survival rates, base level of poverty is nowhere near the level of even twenty years ago... that isn't to say there isn't more to be done, just that you can only do that by looking forward... the good things in the past are already being built on, that is what progress is....

Part of that progress is an increased awareness of the need for Safety controls for workers... Now, many will confuse this with spurious liitigation by ambulance chasing lawyers... but, like the much maligned 'Political Correctness' it is a neccesary framework to establish, even if (like any framework ever) it is sometimes used by unscrupulous dipshits for their own ends, unaware that they are ruining everything for everyone.

To summarise there was never an EU law stating you have to wear goggles to play conkers, just as nobody ever banned Christmas... but there were three maintanance men slowly roasted to death in a belt fed bread oven (over the course of an hour long  cycle) after the correct procedures were not followed in order 'to save Time'...

I remember my childhood... it was bloody ace...
And the past in general... fantastic...
But, If you don't think you are living in the best of all possible times, (excepting that which comes after), you are either: not looking at the evidence or allowing a nostalgia for your own youth to utterly cloud your judgement...

Opinion: Boris... Just Boris

Boris Johnson is a phenomena.

Yesterday he was being touted by the Telegraph as a strong candidate to Usurp David Cameron before the 2015 Election, having wooed party Donors his way with a 'Strong Pro Business' stance.

Did I say strong? I meant utterly frenzied, even going to the utterly 'Balls Out crazy' move of inviting Rupert Murdoch to be his personal guest at the Olympics... 

To appreciate just how 'Strong' a 'Pro Business' gesture this is, just remember, A) This Billionaire Mogul isn't exactly at his most popular at the moment and B) Boris is responsible for the Met Police, who are currently in the middle of investigating News Corp (amongst others) over various things, and are themselves under pressure, having been accused of complicity in some of the things they are now investigating...

So... Yesterday he seemed unstoppable. The city had their boy, willing to perform a very very PDA with one of the most divisive figures in U.K business, they were misty-eyeing at him like the nerdy library kid gawping the pretty girl who wouldn't speak to him*... potentially it was just a matter of getting the public to fall for him in the same way...

Today...
Well Today... This:

Now some people are writing off his chances. Guffawing at him...
'Oh look at the Silly Dangling Man'
'He can never win... Look at him... He is a Silly... a Silly...'

Be warned though, don't write him off... This is Meat and Gravy to this man...
Don't forget he was swept to victory as Mayor of London on a Platform of: 'Being Quite Funny on Panel Shows' and being 'Less Sickeningly Odious than Ken Livingstone'
Now you may not think that is an adequate enough skillset to lead a country... and you'd be correct...
But that doesn't mean it couldn't happen...

Even Cameron was forced to admit it: "If any other politician got stuck on a zipwire it would be disastrous. With Boris it's a triumph."


...and I imagine that quote was uttered through teeth so gritted that the merest agitation would have caused them to shatter into microscopic fragments. Whilst it is true that Duncan praised Macbeth before the regicide, it is slightly more unusual for him to cheer him on between stabbings.

Before the Mayoral Election I begged London to not vote for him. I obviously didn't have as much influence as I hoped... I should also note that I begged them to avoid voting for Livingstone, but it would be a bit suspect to call what happened a win for me...

I feel there is a genuinely worrying trend to put personality before ability in politics these days. Tories will lay the blame at the feet of Tony Blair, Labour will claim that Thatcher did it first, (Like so many of the 'Things Tony Did')... The Lib Dems... well they'll say.. something... probably something that sits between the two and means nothing...

Could the Country do this on a larger scale? Would they gamble the future of our nation on a man who most closely resembles Wurzel Gummage before he became an enchanted scarecrow?

Well... People like Boris... He is a surprisingly good public speaker for someone who has a default setting of 'Incoherent'. He knows how to get a crowd going, witness his 60,00 person bitchslap of Mittens Romney... and he can laugh at himself, evinced by his sterling buffoonery/recovery whilst hanging over his city like something from a rejected line of Bullingdon christmas decorations...

Will they vote for him?

Of course.. they voted for him in London... and he is clever.. he is one of the few to take an important lesson from American Politics, the 'Dubya' lesson that nobody else has ever been brave enough to utilise: In times of crisis, people tend to have more trust in those who they feel are less intelligent than themselves.

Of course, anyone who thinks this about Boris, but doesn't happen to work at CERN, is utterly wrong. He is highly educated, strategic and has cultivated this persona for years... and besides, he has advisors for any of the really hard stuff... by any measure he is more intelligent than most. But the perception is unthreatening: How could he possibly be tricking us? He'd forget and blurt out any nefarious plans before tripping over and grabbing the breasts of a female assistant in a 'hilarious carry-on' Manner...

So, he has the vote of the 'Banter' brigade... even if anyone who uses that word in the positive is arguably so witless as to not deserve oxygen, let alone any deciding power over the future of our country.

... and The 'Average Tory' voter?
Well... he does poll well amongst the rank and file. He is seen as being more Tory than the Neo-Blair Conservatism of Cameron... and besides.. Cameron is just that bit too shiny and airbrushed (Both in real life and in campaign literature)... He's a middle manager... lift muzak... the human equivalent of an Ikea shelving unit... perfectly functional and well designed, but nothing too exciting...

Boris on the other hand is a Rocket Powered Union jack painted Grandfather Clock, almost a caricature of 'Dribblingly Insane Ruling Class'. Where Cameron wouldn't follow a 'Conservative' idea out of the door if Public Opinion was raining too heavily, Boris... Well Boris would throw himself straight out of the window... and with his luck he'd land squarely on his feet, the idea in his hand and a rose in his teeth... and Public opinion... well it would Laud him... because he's Boris... and that's just what he does...

...and Labour... what can they do?

Well. They can only hope that the Public fall out of love with him... because, with the ammo they're currently packing, they aren't going to win the battle of personalities any time soon... and any attempt to ridicule Boris or conventional attempt knock him off his pedestal will only increase his 'Clown-Shoe' Cache.

So what do they have left?
They need to find their own Lovable chap who doesn't take himself too seriously, who can raise a crowd into a US style woop and who doesn't mind cultivating a ridiculous persona, whilst using it to cloak a genuinely astute political brain...

... to me that sounds like only one other Political Figure...

So... who else is up for Bojo Vs Prezza in 2015?

(*Yeah... I mean me here... Obviously)