A Brand New Start?

Or just more of the same old bullshit? 

When a primped, preened and perfumed philanthropist like Russell Brand starts pontificating about how no-one should vote anymore and demands a revolution with all the gusto of a slightly camp Che Guevara, it’s going to raise a few Paxmanesque eyebrows. The question is, has the celebrity gangbanger taken his half-baked ideas out of the oven far too quickly? 

Some time inbetween banging on about changing the world in the not so New Statesman and ripping Jeremy Paxman a new asshole, Brand has picked up the diamond encrusted baton dropped by every ‘caring and sharing’ celebrity’s spiritual forefather - Bono, and just won’t stop banging his bongo drum about just how rigged the only card game in town is. 

He’s got a point, we do live in a world governed by corruption, steeped in greed and staggering under the weight of its own bullshit. But it’s also worth remembering that it’s a world where the disease, famine, poor health, dire working/living conditions, unavailability of choice and out and out inequality which our forefathers lived with from cradle to grave, has been either eradicated altogether or vastly improved upon. 

Yes, the swine have still got their snouts in the trough, the elite still exploit, the wealthy rule the roost, and the class system still weakens and rots the guts of the UK like a vile parasite born beyond time and reason. In short, the path of the righteous man is still beset on all side by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men,”

So what’s a poor boy to do? Well, Russ the rebel reveals in his guest editor column for The New Statesman that, “Total revolution of consciousness and our entire social, political and economic system is what interests me.” Sounds grand doesn’t it, if a little bit vague, but it didn’t stop savage Utopians everywhere beating their chest and snarling, “Count me in you long-haired Commie cunt.” or words to that effect. 

The only problem with the flambouyant comedian’s cosmic revolution is, “It’s not on the ballot.” So the answer? Tell em’ how it is Russ! “I have never voted. Like most people I am utterly disenchanted by politics. Like most people I regard politicians as frauds and liars and the current political system as nothing more than a bureaucratic means for furthering the augmentation and advantages of economic elites,” barked Russell, before snapping like a well-off student high on a toxic cocktail of  Marx, Mao, and Pot, “I will never vote and I don’t think you should, either.” 

Now while it’s not a particularly palatable option to vote for “a man (David Cameron) whose face resembles a little painted egg,” and just as upsetting to vote for the spineless and unprincipled piece of stray flatulence that calls itself Nick Clegg, we’ve yet to give the other heavyweight contender in the red corner an opportunity  to roll with the punches and lift the belt. Admittedly, despite his promising pledges to hit the energy companies where it hurts,  Ed Miliband may well  turn out to be a jet engine made of jelly disguised as a chocolate teapot, but how’s a punter to known if he doesn’t chance his hand? 

Advising a nation already sedated and dosed to the eyebrows with cynicism, trivia, greed, sex, materialism, vanity and general all round thoughtfulness, to not vote because it’s a tacit act of compliance, is a big, bad crock of steaming hippy bullshit.  

Not voting is the equivalent of holding up a white flag and whimpering, “Stick a fork in my ass and turn me over man, I’m done!” It’s the worst form of submission and it’s a complete sell-out of the human race. Not voting, is like your pulling your trousers down or lifting up your skirt and whistling, “Hey, over here totalitarianism, I’m ready for my shafting.” 

The sacrifices and the struggles of groups like the Chartists and the Suffragettes gave the proletariat a tangible and very real weapon, that the powers that be went to great lengths not to relinquish. To just toss aside the fight for alternatives and resign from democratic responsibility in a display of jaded celebrity cynicism and self-serving waffle is playing right into the very hands of those men in dark corridors who strive to rule without public accountability and decide your fate for you.

The welfare state, the NHS, our education system, and all those other miraculous things we take for granted and shamelessly treat as our birthright, wouldn’t be possible without democracy and the power of the ballot box. Great change takes time, it doesn’t happen overnight, in fact, it happens so slow, you don’t even realise it.  It’s like grass growing. Grass seeds need to be nurtured with both water, sunlight and great patience before they can grow into a sweet meadow for animals to feed off, or a nice garden for the kids to play in. It’s a long and boring process but it’s really worth the effort because grass has a habit of sticking around. 

And then one day, without you even realising, a lush layer of grass has grown over what was formerly a desolate wasteland and things have got a great deal better. Only trouble is, now you can’t remember how bad it was before, so the little asshole on your shoulder whispers in your ear, “But things aren’t that great now and they can only can better,” and before you know it “You want the world and you want it now!” And then along comes some old tart with the promise of revolution, and revolution, doesn’t come with the baggage of boring nuances, reasoned debate,  and all the other complicated weights and measures that democracy carries around with it like a dusty  ball and chain. Revolutions comes screaming like a wide-eyed madman in the middle of the night with the beating heart of the righteous, the fury of injustice and all the accountability of a wild animal. 

Revolution is not like grass growing one little bit, it’s raw, it’s sexy and possesses all the wonderful theatrics and indifferent violence of a thunder storm.  It’s home is in the streets and whenever it makes an appearance, one thing is always guaranteed, rivers of blood will flow and might will make right. In its aftermath the world is not usually a better place. Corpses litter the streets and souls sicken with despair, but somewhere and somehow the grass still grows and waits patiently for someone to notice its inherent beauty again. 

A wheel revolves slowly and builds up speed, if it spins too fast, it breaks off its axl and the whole convoy is derailed. Democracy is a slow lumbering beast, but it does work, and its biggest endorsement is your vote. David Foster Wallace hit the nail squarely upon the head when he said, “If you are bored and disgusted by politics and don’t bother to vote, you are in effect voting for the entrenched Establishments of the two major parties, who please rest assured are not dumb, and who are keenly aware that it is in their interests to keep you disgusted and bored and cynical and to give you every possible psychological reason to stay at home doing one-hitters and watching MTV on primary day. By all means stay home if you want, but don’t bullshit yourself that you’re not voting. In reality, there is no such thing as not voting: you either vote by voting, or you vote by staying home and tacitly doubling the value of some Diehard’s vote.”

It’s easy to agree with Brand when he said he want change, it’s an instinct as old as the hills, and it’s difficult to resist the urge to pin on your “smash the state” badge and shout, “Hell yeah! let’s have a fucking revolution” when he speaks so passionately about a recent visit to a rubbish dump in Kenya in along the lines of, “This was a nation made of waste with no end in sight. Domestic waste, medical waste, industrial waste formed their own perverse geography. Stinking rivers sluiced through banks of putrid trash, mountains, valleys, peaks and troughs all formed from discarded filth. An ecology based on our indifference and ignorance in the “cradle of civilisation” where our species is said to have originated. Here amid the pestilence I saw Armageddon. Here the end of the world is not a prophecy but a condition.”

But when a few weeks later, Russ finds himself at a Givenchy fashion show in Paris unable to appreciate the ‘immaculate, ‘heavenly’ and ‘gleaming sophistication on show because his mind was plagued by phantoms of the slum children of Kenya, it’s difficult to take him seriously. Especially when he writes solemnly, like a sixth-form poet with a big heart but an even bigger image, “The price of this decadence was their degradation.”

If that was not enough to turn even the most gentle souls into Holden Caulfield and shout, “Phony” at the top of their lungs, Brand digs an even deeper hole and starts pontificating in all seriousness, albeit with the self-satisfied smirk of a man who knows he’ll never go without, “The price of privilege is poverty. Profit is the most profane word we have.”

Which is quite a thing to announce when you’re a multi-millionaire who has spent a considerable time at the rock face in the craven pursuit of wealth and fame. The next time Russ gets on his soapbox and turns into Citizen Smith you may want to think on the fact that he’s currently dating the heiress Jemima Khan, who is the daughter of Anglo-French billionaire financier and tycoon Sir James Goldsmith. Khan also happens to be the Associate editor of the New Statesman and editor-at-large for Vanity Fair. Do you see a pattern emerging? There’s a club, you’re not in it, but Brand and every other multi-millionaire celebrity on the planet is. Let’s be honest, unless you win the lottery or know how to really kick a ball, it usually takes a lot of effort, cunning, ruthlessness, compromise and a questionable mindset to make a million, never mind 15 million? In this world, sticking to your principles does not usually equate with making lots of cash. In fact, not unlike dirtbag politicians, Brand and one of his best mates, ‘Wozzy’ were once paid vast amounts of public money (The BBC license fee) to act like irresponsible and sleazy twats.

But let’s be fair, everyone is entitled to have their Road to Damascus moment. Brand has seen the light realised the cult of greed and celebrity he’s so deeply  embroiled so deeply in is not very pleasant and wants change in a big way. Brand said,  “It's easy to attack me, I'm a right twerp, I'm a junkie and a cheeky monkey, I accept it, but that doesn't detract from the incontrovertible fact that we are living in a time of huge economic disparity and confronting ecological disaster.” He also said, “When I first got a few quid it was like an anesthetic that made me forget what was important but now I've woken up. I can't deny that I've done a lot of daft things while I was under the capitalist fugue.”

Yet here’s the rub, as much as Brand admits, “The people that govern us don't want an active population who are politically engaged, they want passive consumers distracted by the spectacle of which I accept I am a part.” He’s still as much part of that huge economic disparity as the politicians and businessmen he criticises. No-one’s expecting him to wave his wand conjour up a global utopia overnight, but the simple fact is when someone, and it doesn’t matter what their intent may be, eats too much of the communal pie, some poor bleeder will go without. Greed is greed no matter which way you want to dress it up. Poor man rich man, beggar man, thief, or comedian, no-one needs a million pounds in the bank, and most celebrities with their conceit ego, and never-ending greed for more fame and more wealth are pretty much, a prize product of unregulated capitalism.  Try naming any famous people under Stalin’s regime and see how far you get. What are celebrities, if not an elite band of emotionally retarded narcissists whose whole world revolves around their hugely profitable Brand? It’s not enough that they’re in your face 24-7 and have hijacked just about everything that was once the sole domain of us poor folk. Now celebrities want to be revolutionaries. You just watch them que up to follow Russell’s lead, until we end up with some sort of vapid reality show called “I’m a celebrity rebel who don’t give a fuck mister!” 

The great Aneurin Bevan spent his life championing social justice and the rights of the working people. He used to say, “Campaign in poetry, govern in prose." Because he understood all about capturing people’s imagination with heroic oratory before knuckling down and doing the grunt and groan mule work of turning a vision into a reality. Talking the talk is easy, walking the walk is the hard part. MPs like Bevan also understood that a communal society was only possible if there was personal responsibility.

It’s not responsible sit at home and let those who would deny you freedom and equality to become victorious through your apathy and idleness. Neither is it responsible for those with malicious intent to wield governmental power. So you go to war, not in the streets, but in the ballot box, by highlighting injustices, by writing letters, by penning petitions, by spreading information, by getting educated, by getting informed, by combating ignorance, by questioning everything, by standing up for yourself and battling for equal rights, civil rights, and constant improvements in our education and health systems. All this and much, much more is possible in our current democratic system. Countless unrecorded battles take place every day between individuals,  pressure groups and both local and central governments that all accumulate to make a big difference to millions of people’s lives. 

So you can sit back, and blame the government and big business for all the world’s wrongs and all that is base in human nature whilst stuffing your face with junk and watching streams of shit on the TV, or you can get up off your fat ass, finally stop with all the piss and moaning and take responsibility. But above all else, remember not to cut yourself too large a slice of the pie. 

Ten Psychopaths Who Were Also in Charge of Countries

"We want the world and we want it now!"

Psychopaths are undoubtedly a dangerous breed but never more so than when they are in charge of a country. In an ideal world it would be nice to think that past kings, presidents, prime ministers and dictators weren’t criminally insane and pathologically corrupt, but history has proven otherwise. It’s said that power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely, so with that in mind let’s take a peek at ten of the most deranged and dangerous men who have ever sat on a throne, controlled armies, and altered the course of history on a diabolical whim. 

Henry VIII

The ginger loverman with a gammy leg wasn’t just a royal womanizer who got married six times and fathered countless bastards, he also had two of his wives (Anne Boleyn and Kathryn Howard) beheaded after accusing them of having affairs. The overweight and balding lothario also ordered the execution of countless others, including his own servants, military advisors, assorted noblemen, advisors, and of course, Catholics. In fact it’s been suggested that an estimated 72,000 heads rolled during ‘fat Harry’s’ bloodthirsty reign. Yet the Welsh psycho's outrageous behavior doesn’t just start and stop with killing people. Although he later accused Anne Boleyn of witchcraft and sleeping with anything in a pair of Tudor tights, he had previously loved the Scarlet Jezebel so much he booted the Catholic Church out of the country and appointed himself Supreme Head of the newly appointed Church of England, just so he could get a divorce from his brother's widow, Catherine of Aragon, and marry Boleyn. Obviously being excommunicated by the Pope and triggering the bloody English reformation in order to get laid, suggests we’re dealing with a disturbed individual, and it comes as no surprise that when assessed by Professor Kevin Dutton against a ‘psychopathic spectrum,’ the King, who divorced wife number four, Anne of Cleaves, for being “too ugly”, scored an impressive 174 against a ‘starting’ psychopath score of 168. 

Vlad the Impaler 

Vlad III, Prince of Wallachia was an industrial strength psychopath, responsible for carnage and slaughter on an epic scale. So terrible were ‘Vlad the Impaler’s’ deeds that horror writer Bram Stoker based Dracula on him. Ironically, the famous literary vampire’s evil ways pale into insignificance when compared with the rivers of blood that the sadistic tyrant from Transylvania caused to flow. Lording over an area that encompasses much of modern-day Romania, Vlad ruled his subjects with an iron fist and an even sharper stake. The mustached monster enjoyed nothing more than skinning, boiling, decapitating, blinding and roasting his victims, of whom there were thousands. He was also partial to cutting off people’s ears, noses, limbs, and sexual organs. Yet what Vlad loved more than anything else was to impale people, hence his nickname. Driving a stake through a victim’s buttocks until it protruded out of their mouth was as gruesome and hideous as it sounds. Even worse, Vlad had his stakes oiled and smoothed to ensure the victim would ensure a terribly slow and excruciatingly painful death. The psychopathic prince is said to have killed tens of thousands of people in a single day using this method. Disturbingly enough, Prince Charles of England is actually a descendant of Vlad and would definitely have a viable ‘stake’ in being the new King of Romainia if the country’s monarchial system was ever restored.

Idi Amin 

The last 25 years of Idi Amin’s life were spent in disgraced exile in Saudi Arabia, and when you consider the terrible and bloody eight year reign associated with the Ugandan dictator’s name, it’s safe to say he got off lightly. Not only was Idi’s barbaric regime blamed for the mass execution and tribal purge of over 500,000 people, the six foot plus psychopath's personal appetite for carnage and sex was legendary. Idi was rumored to have kept the heads of his most despised enemies in the fridge and then of course there are those pesky rumors of cannibalism that just refuse to lay down and die. Forcing political prisoners to kill each other with sledgehammers and fathering over 60 children with different women was all in a day’s work for this dictator. However, it’s Idi’s obsession of going by the catchy title of, “His Excellency President for Life, Field Marshal Al Hadji Doctor Idi Amin, VC, DSO, MC, Lord of All the Beasts of the Earth and Fishes of the Sea, and Conqueror of the British Empire in Africa in General and Uganda in Particular,” which poignantly indicates above all else just what a true blue, howling at the moon nut-job unfortunate Uganda had on their hands between 1971-1979. Idi seized power via a military coup and his rule by force and fear brought nothing but bloodshed, tragedy and economic ruin to the country he professed to love. Like all psychopaths Amin possessed no redeeming qualities but alas, only the good die young, and the man who would be “King of Scotland” lived until 2003 before he finally shuffled off this mortal coil aged 78.

Pol Pot 

Without any knowledge of his life, the very name Pol Pot seems to scream “Dangerous psycho alert!” And so it should. In Cambodia between 1975 and 1979, Pot and his dreaded Khmer Rouge claimed the lives of over one million people. If you weren’t executed under Pot’s medieval regime, the chances are disease or starvation would finish you off. As we know, psychos can be both remarkably charming and terribly ruthless. Pot was both. The product of both a Buddhist and Roman Catholic education, Pol later became a Marxist and with the help of his fierce and committed followers, he finally overthrew the US backed Cambodian government and initiated his vision of an agrarian utopia. Cities were emptied, money was abolished, private property was reclaimed, religion was outlawed and intellectuals or anyone who dared to voice an opinion were routinely rounded up and killed. In its place rural collectives were set up which were radical, socialist, and also criminally responsible for the deaths of thousands of men, women and children. Pot and the Khmer Rouge were finally kicked back into the jungle in 1979 after Vietnam invaded. Pot officially retired as leader in the late 1980s and died in April 1998. He was never held responsible for his catalogue of crimes and in an interview towards the end of his life, the aging tyrant responsible for the genocide caused by a toxic cocktail of Maoism and nationalism simply said, "My conscience is clear.” However, the hand of history begs to differ. 

Joseph Stalin 

He may have played a large part in ridding the world of fellow psychopath Adolph Hitler and turning the USSR into a superpower, but let’s not beat around the bush, Stalin was a monster. His totalitarian and unforgiving regime of purges, mind control, and gulags suggested that under his rule, the Soviet Union became a deadly product of it’s leader’s pathology. Psychopaths are estimated to account for four percent of the population, and during Stalin’s time as top boy, the judicial system, police force, media, army and educational establishments seemed to account for Soviet Russia’s entire quota. Tens of millions of caring and fully developed people from all walks of life were accused of lacking ideological purity and deviating from communist principles by Stalin and his Bolshevik cronies before being routinely slaughtered with as much thought as lighting a cigarette. During Stalin’s “Great Terror”, killing and repression was everywhere and his 1937 purge, where millions were executed and sent to labour camps without trial, stands as one of the bleakest episodes in Russia’s history. The son of an alcoholic cobbler who became little more than a power crazed gangster with a withered arm, club foot, and a pox scarred face, has a lot to answer for when the sun rises on Judgement day. 

Emperor Caligula 

When a man declares himself a god and takes advice from his horse, it’s probably wise to give him a wide berth. When that same dude also happens to be a Roman Emperor it’s probably best to run as fast as you can and don’t look back. Born Gaius, the ancient nutter was only later given the nickname Caligula which means “Little Boot” or “Bootikins” because of his fondness for dressing up as a legionary as a child and parading about his father Germanicus’s military camps. When he first became Emperor at the tender age of 24, the ancient Romans loved Calligula because he gave them “bread and circuses” and flamboyant psychopaths were usually well received in the “eternal city,” as were rulers who abolished taxes. Yet after the first seven months of his rule it all went pear-shaped in a big way. After falling seriously ill, the Caligula that returned was either a different man or he finally felt secure enough in to finally show his true colors. Either way, a dangerous psychopath who worshipped cruelty, perversion and death and insisted on being treated like a god was now in charge of a super power. “Bootikins” had big issues. Just how big can be garnered by the fact that he made it a crime, punishable by death, if any member of the public happened to look down upon him, or mention goats in his presence. The fact that he wanted to erect a series of statues of himself in synagogues, slept with his three sisters, and called off an invasion of Britain at the last minute just so his troops could gather sea shells, meant this particular nut job had to go before he caused some real damage. Calligula was assassinated by the Praetorian Guard after only five years of rule at the age of 29. History has not been kind. 

Genghis Khan 

Genghis is the chosen pet name for big dogs with bad temperaments the world over, and there’s a reason for that. The bloodthirsty heathen that was Khan is rumored to have killed 1,748,000 people in a single hour. Now while that’s undoubtedly an exaggeration of sorts, there can be no doubt that the little father of Mongolia enjoyed immersing himself wholeheartedly in death and destruction on a psychopathic scale. To effectively gauge the scale of Khan’s appetite for slaughter and rape. It was estimated in 2003 that as many as 16 million people  (0.5 percent of the global population) were descendants of Khan. Which isn’t surprising when you consider the romantic barbarian was fond of saying, “Happiness is to kill the foe, ride his horses, watch his wife and daughters weep, and seize them to your bosom.” Khan’s real name was the lot less catchier ‘Temujin’, but after uniting the nomadic tribes of northeast Asia and establishing a Mongol Empire that occupied most of Central Asia and China through a terrible campaign which involved the wholesale massacres of civilian populations,  he was forever known as the “Universal Ruler” which translates as Genghis Khan. As well as leaving behind a mountain of human skulls, Khan’s legacy is also a very environmentally aware one. In fact he has been branded the greenest invader in history. Because he butchered some 40 million people, their unburied and rotting corpses caused forests to grow once again on huge tracts of cultivated land. This removed nigh on 700 million tons of carbon from the atmosphere, which is about the same amount produced each year from the global use of petrol. Ecologists have cited it as the first ever example of manmade global cooling, but it’s doubtful if Khan will be receiving the Nobel Peace Prize for his endeavors any time soon.

Chairman Mao

Mao Zedong was yet another Marxist with a taste for carnage. The little peasant teacher who believed that, “Political power grows out of the barrel of a gun," was responsible for founding the People’s Republic of China which sought to reshape Chinese society in accord with Mao’s unique vision. The only problem is when your vision involves organizing farmers into collectives, complete state control, and the ruthless suppression of any dissident voices, you’re going to upset a few apple-carts. Mao’s ‘Great Leap Forward’ of 1958 didn’t lead to the long hoped for mass mobilization of labour or any great increase in agricultural and industrial production. Rather it led to a marked decline in output, widespread famine and millions of deaths. What’s a psycho to do hey? Well, eight years later Zedong tried to win back public favor with his ‘Cultural Revolution.’ Which spelt ‘BAD LUCK’ if you were considered one of China’s ‘impure elements.’ In the name of the ‘revolutionary spirit’  one-and-a-half million people were killed as the country’s cultural heritage was on the receiving end of one hell of a kicking. With anarchy threatening, Mao sent in the troops to quell any uprising and tell everyone just who the boss was. Mao died on 9 September 1976 and he is now widely regarded as one of the most important individuals to have  played a part on the world stage. His supporters, and there are many, praise him for turning China into a world power. Under his leadership, China’s population swelled from 550 to over 900 million, but Mao’s apologists tend to gloss over that fact that during his time in power, 40-70 million men, women and children died through forced labour, starvation and execution. 

Kim Jong - il 

According to North Korean folklore, when the man the people fondly referred to as “Dear Leader” was born, a bright star lit up the heavens, winter became spring and a double rainbow miraculously appeared. In reality little Kim was born in Siberia where his father was hiding from the Japanese. Yet for 17 years an alcoholic James Bond obsessive with a speech impediment who cared nothing for the common folk was allowed to lord it over an entire country that became the world’s fifth-largest military and nuclear power. While the rest of Korea starved, Kim boasted a wine cellar which housed over 10,000 bottles and his fondness for lobsters was legendary. Measuring at five feet, three inches, Kim was a small man who disliked other small people, but his ego was of course, huge. According to the state, Kim was the best golfer in history who once knocked up an impressive 11 hole-in-ones on an 18-hole course. The renaissance man was also said to have written six operas in two years. A true psycho’s boast if there ever was one. Whilst Kim pranced about in his favored four-inch platform heels and Khaki jumpsuits, famine ravaged North Korea, but that was OK because the little man had four billion dollars tucked away in European banks, just in case the people decided enough was enough and it was time for the little man to go. Apparently Kim never needed to defecate, which would explain why this particular power-crazed tyrant was full of crap to the very end. 

Adolph Hitler

Probably the most famous nutter in history, Hitler’s psychotic ways didn’t just damage a country they damaged an entire world. From an early age, Hitler’s grand obsession with himself was apparent. The failed artist carried enough spite, resentment and envy around with him to fill a football team of psychopaths. Anyone who writes a book and call it “My Struggle” (Mien Kampf) has obviously spent a lifetime courting delusions of grandeur. Yet when those delusions became a reality, the little Austrian with a strange mustache was given carte blanche to enact his terrible fantasies of power and superiority on a grand scale. Millions died in the horror and hell that the Nazis and their Fuhrer created, and the world has yet to recover. Hitler’s regime was one of bureaucratic carnage, where a human life was worth less than a number in a ledger. Anyone who opposed the Nazis or failed to live up to the “ideals” which governed their doctrine of hate, were humiliated, degraded and destroyed in a systematic, sterile and callous fashion. The Nazis didn’t just want to destroy the body, they wanted to destroy the soul. Hitler’s Nuremberg speeches can be likened to a portrait of a psychopath in full flight, as the whole of Germany was hypnotized by this manic creature who spoke seductively to the basest instincts in humanity. For their misplaced loyalty, the German people were repaid with death and derision by the man whom they believed to be their savior. As Berlin burned and his people were being killed in a war they had already lost, Hitler refused to discuss surrender terms with the Allies. Instead, safe and secure in his bunker, Hitler failed to answer for his crimes and simply shot himself instead. In the end, the craven coward escaped the courts of man, but his trial in the court of history has been eternally damming, ensuring that Hitler’s reign will never be perceived in accord with his dying wish as, “Six years of struggle, which in spite of all reverses will go down in history as the most glorious and most courageous manifestation of a people's will to live.” 

To Frack or not to Frack?

Now that’s the Fracking Question!

Drilling deep holes into mama earth and poking around in her innards with all the tender care of a backstreet abortionist seems like a recipe for disaster, but how ‘fracking’ bad  is shale gas energy? 

'Fracking!' The very word sounds guttural and seems to carry the faint odour of degraded perversion. In fact, the very mention of 'Frack' is enough to get certain politicians and corporate cretins all red-faced and excited as they froth at the mouth like JR Ewing on ‘mama’s finest homegrown crack’ at the thought of all that gloriously sensual untapped profit that lies buried like pirate's treasure deep beneath the fields and woodland of this green and pleasant land.

Equally, fracking is seen as hell incarnate by the hordes of placard waving, welly boot wearers who like the idea of living like a big footed hobbit in the cosy and environmentally friendly realms of Middle Earth but who would moan like buggery if due to a global energy shortage they didn't have enough petrol to drive their car to Waitrose, or enough electricity to charge their smartphones and take to twitter to smugly pontificate about how they are single-handedly saving the earth,

The reality of fracking is it may have revolutionised the energy industry in the USA but it does pose a fair few environmental concerns and could hinder the worldwide campaign to invest in renewable sources of energy in place of blind reliance on the finite supply of fossil fuels. In terms of climate change and the energy crisis, critics argue shale gas energy is very much a case of short-term gain, long-term pain.

Yet since they have adopted fracking in a big way,carbon emissions in the USA are at their lowest since 1994 causing UK shale enthusiasts to dance for joy and cry 'Hallelujah' at the prospect of what has been described glowing terms as a "cheap low carbon bonanza" which will act as a massive boost for the economy and employment, without burdening the bill payer with all the extra taxes and subsidies generated by 'green' energy sources such as wind farms and solar panels.

And you may well ask what would be so wrong with the UK generating and owning all the electricity it needs to shine in the dark skies of globalisation and enjoying a reduction, no matter how insignificant, in our energy bills? Well nothing, but at what cost?

Fracking in the UK has already resulted in two small earthquakes in the Blackpool area in 2011 and there is also the concern that groundwater surrounding the fracking sites may be contaminated by a leak of the potentially carcinogenic chemicals used in the fracking process.

Now while the USA may boast that fracking has given them gas security for the next 100 years and has afforded them the opportunity to generate electricity at half the CO2 emission of coal, what good will it do them if their drinking water is toxic and the whole of Hollywood has been swallowed up by an earthquake?

Of course, it's not like there's never been a major oil leak or a nuclear power station disaster, but do we really want to make a bad situation worse by throwing the unknown quantity that is fracking into the mix? Wouldn't that be really 'fracking' stupid?

The question remains - If fracking's dark satanic mills are allowed to pepper the British countryside like a rouge and particularly vile case of teenage acne, will the lights stay on or will they be turned of for good. Who knows? The answer, as they say, is blowing in the wind.

Does the UK Really Need a War Mongering Education Secretary?

By Gove! There Will Be Blood!

Hysterical Education Secretary Michael Gove was so furious that his high priest David Cameron was denied his’ rightful’ opportunity to start a war that he slammed the Tory MPs who voted against intervention in Syria as a ‘disgrace’. 

Gove, who has the sort of face which some unkind critics have suggested wouldn’t look out of place in Heinrich Himmler’s gang of merry Nazi psychopaths, was apparently so livid that fellow Tories through the power of democratic process had denied his party the chance to punish violence with violence and launch a missile strike against Syria that he had to be restrained by colleagues. 

Frothing at the mouth like a steroid crazed Rottweiler, Gove apparently started yelling ‘disgrace’, ‘disgrace’ at the MPs who opposed Cameron’s plans to commit the UK to yet further bloodshed and carnage in the Middle East. 

Labour MP Bary Gardiner revealed to the Daily Mail how Gove (by this point seemingly rendered insane and fearsome with all the terrible rage of a frustrated war pig), started snarling at fellow MPs whilst spitting wild allegations that they were “supporters of Syrian President Bashar al-Assad.”

Now while Syria, like many countries, has seen its fair share of horrendous humanitarian atrocities it  is of some concern that the UK’s Education Secretary believes the only way to alleviate such suffering is by a display of brute force and subsequent slaughter. 

If things are so black and white in Gove’s world then God help Britain’s education system. The vast majority of the public in the UK are against military action against Syria because they realise instinctively it will only lead to further death and bloodshed without end. 

You don’t have to be an Education Secretary to work that one out. You just have to be a decent human being capable of seeing that childish and excitable displays which suggest deep-rooted anger management issues do not a true statesman make. Diplomacy and the all-consuming need to reach a peace settlement are the qualities which are parliamentary representatives should possess, not the mindless belief that somehow sending troops of to kill and main whilst being killing and maimed at the slightest provocation is a noble thing.  Reckless and bloodthirsty action  achieves nothing but bitterness and hatred and makes the world a more dangerous place for all.  

Gove’s fury that democracy finally won out in the decision to invade or not invade Syria speaks volumes about the man and a large part of the party he represents. Free-will and independence of thought is not a ‘disgrace’ Mr Gove, but tyranny and fascism in whatever form it takes most definitely is.  

Florida Fisherman Tortures Pregnant Shark as Lazy sunbathers Take Pictures

Humans do the funniest things. They also do some of the most sadistic too. 

Take for example the case of ‘Freddy’ the Florida fisherman who thought it would be a right old toot to drag a pregnant Hammerhead shark onto a packed Panama City  beach heaving with gangs of bright orange sun worshippers before proceeding to systematically torture it as the gathered sand zombies take pictures and videos on their smartphones. 

To make matters worse, the poor shark is so traumatized by being forcibly dragged out of natural habitat by a merciless meat-head, she starts thrashing around in the shallow water and gives birth on the water’s edge. 

There’s a video of the aforesaid incident on the Daily Mail website, and even though it’s evident that after ‘Freddy’ the fearless shark slayer has dragged the poor Hammerhead onto the beach, and she’s frantically trying to escape back into the ocean at every opportunity, the newspaper reporter in question actually writes in a damning display of vacuous verbosity,  “Despite repeated attempts to guide the hammerhead back into deeper water, she kept swimming towards the shore.”

No! She doesn’t! Every time she makes an attempt to return to the safety of the ocean, old fearsome ‘Freddy’ drags her back before holding her head in the sand and slinging her pups around like used condoms. 

In a masterful display of diligent reporting the Mail’s news-hound then states in the the second sentence, “Local resident Kathy Hunt, who was watching on the beach, told local station News 13 that the shark seemed to be 'looking for a way out and was thrashing around the closer it got to the shoreline.”

Now isn’t that a contradiction in terms? 

The simple fact is anyone with half a brain (And granted,  long term exposure to the Daily Mail can invoke similar effects to that of a full-frontal lobotomy) would pick up on having once watched the video that the shark is dragged to the beach and kept there against her will. Which is particularly cruel as sharks need to actually move through water to breathe and holding the shark down on the water’s edge is akin to dragging a human beneath the water’s surface and keeping them there. 

It’s no surprise to learn that the shark later died. 

Ain’t life a beach!

Cameron and Glegg Divvy up Dead Nurse’s Savings

If ever you needed a perfect example of the morally bankrupt, nauseatingly underhanded, and shockingly corrupt values which our hollow-eyed and grasping politicians uphold with an impressive vigour and tenacity, then here it is.

When nurse Joan Edwards died she surprisingly bequeathed a sum of money to, “Whichever government is in office... to use as they may think fit."

No doubt, here was a kind-hearted lady who trusted her Government to do the right thing with her money, which incidentally was a whopping £520,000, not bad for a midwife’s wage hey? 

Although somewhat naive to trust any government with her cash, especially one helmed by David tweedledee and Nick tweedledum, the good woman was probably an old-fashioned sort who believed that the ‘great and the noble’  would know how best to maximise the potential of such a large sum of cash for the greater good and help those truly in need. 

After all in an age of soaring unemployment, homelessness, poverty and disease, where communities lie in tatters and hospital and schools are struggling to find the necessary resources just to survive, it’s not if there isn’t a shortage of things that couldn’t benefit from a bob or two is there? 

So after an intense flurry of brainstorming and heated debate, what did the Tories and the Lib Dems decide to do with 90-year-old Joan’s life-savings that she selflessly left to the nation? Why! The millionaire mongrels divvied it up as a party donation, with Glegg’s gang getting £99.423 and the Tories hitting the big time and bagging a lovely £420,576 to spend on their second homes. 

Now repeat after three, “WE’RE ALL IN IT TOGETHER.” 

Oh yes we are!

Dear God! These vile suited and booted cut-throat greed-heads give pond life a bad name.

What’s more the money was divided up according to the number of MPs and ministers of each party. Obviously there’s a lot of fat felines in Westminister today, and no doubt each porky pig wants their slice of the pie. 

Joan’s staggering bequest dwarfs the donations usually given by City financiers and other big money donors to secure themselves an honour and help keep the Tories and the Lib Dems in a state of craven indulgence. But let’s be honest its not as if the MPs are short of the necessary readies to finance the  electioneering mind-control campaign they expose us to every once in a blue moon is it? I mean, take a stroll through the House of Commons and around every corner you’ll bump into yet another multi-millionaire who serves the people by getting incredibly rich on the graft of others. So why wouldn’t these pompous vermin seek to exploit and violate a poor pensioner’s dying wish and make themselves even richer? 

Unfortunately for the coffers of each hard-pressed and impoverished party, criticism from Labour and ‘some’ Tory MPs have seen both parties backtrack quicker than you can say “PR disaster” and they have now returned the money to the Treasury. 

What will become of Joan’s cash now is anyone’s guess? But the word on the streets is that poor old Prince Charles is struggling of late to make ends meet!

Star Struck!

PUTTING the ‘horror’ into your ‘scope’, semi-professional astrologer and amateur bullfighter Sir Elderflower gently caresses his crystal ball in the hope of foretelling what the alignment of the heavens portend for our readers in this month’s installment of STAR STRUCK!  

Aries

The answer my friend is blowing in the wind. And it’s called the pollen count you fool! Why else do you think you’ve got a hooter like Rudolph the red nosed reindeer and your eyes are streaming like Niagara falls. But cheer up my poor afflicted Aries, because this month a little wrinkled pixie from the uncharted forests beyond the eastern shore will pay you a surprise visit, and if you answer his many riddles satisfactorily, he will yield unto you the ancient secret that will prevent ye olde hay fever from being thou continual plague of thy summer months. Nuff said sweetheart. 

Taurus 

It’s all issues and tissues with you this month isn’t it Taurus. But like my old comrade Mr T once growled at me like the demented dog he is, “Give me an issue and I’ll give you a tissue, and you can wipe my butt with it fool!’ I realise such hot-headed advice is perhaps unwelcome by someone who is in such an emotionally insecure place right now. But really you old tart! It’s time to mop up that festering pool of paranoia and self-pity that has left an unsightly stain on your best friend's brand new oak-effect laminate flooring and grow a backbone. Tough words honey, but it’s a tough world. 

Gemini

Dear God Gemini, it seems this month you have as many faces as a schizophrenic clock. But dare I ask which one of them is the real you? As you read these words I can just visualise your glassy eyes filling with the spite and poison of an amateur illusionist whose ruse has finally been rumbled, my little mercurial mare. Oh but how you do love to see the world as a great stage where you have a myriad of many colourful and flattering roles to fill. Yet be warned Gemini, when you play a part for so long it eventually plays you. 

Cancer

Like an obese little red-cheeked fool with their face pressed tight against the pie shop window, it’s never that healthy always being on the outside looking in. You know this better than most Cancer, and that is why this month you must make more of an effort to throw yourself into the heart of any social engagement that comes a’ calling. My old mucker Patrick Swayze once said, “Nobody puts baby in the corner!” With this is mind I think it’s high time you put your well-used copy of Dirty Dancing back into its case and started to do the fox-trot with a dance partner called ‘reality’. 

Leo

Take a look out the window Leo. Do you like what you see. A dismal back alley, sprinkled with dog turds of all shapes and sizes, liberally discarded fag ends, half-eaten takeaways, abandoned cars and a drunkard’s vomit is a far cry from your recent sun-kissed holiday in St Lucia. It really was divine lying like a lizard on those golden sands beneath the azure blue skies of that Caribbean Island wasn’t it? But my dear Lion you are living in the paradise of the fool if you believe that sort of thing can last forever. It’s time to wake up and smell the instant coffee. The holiday’s over and it’s back to the office on Monday where they’ve all been talking about you for the last fortnight. ‘Say it how you see it’ is the best advice I can offer you this month.  

Virgo 

Fickle friends are fair-weather friends Virgo, and fair-weather friends are no friends at all. Yet sometimes there the only friends you have aren’t they Virgo? No-one wants to be known as a Billy-no-mates love, but trying to buy friendship is never a good idea. I suggest you invest in yourself this month Virgo and learn a new skill or acquire a new talent. In my experience fire-eating, sumo-wrestling, or perhaps even bull fighting can instill a strong sense of purpose and confidence in a natural-born doormat such as yourself. Remember Virgo, it’s better to be a king for a day than a fool for a lifetime. 

Libra

The grass is always greener on the other side Libra, but was it really necessary to pour petrol on your neighbour’s lawn and set fire to it just because their roses quite literally put you piddling-poor efforts in the shade. Beware of the green-eyed monster this month my jealous Libra. You are in danger of being consumed by your efforts in trying to ‘keep up with the Joness. I suggest you try some meditation whilst listening to that NIck Berry classic ‘Every Loser Wins,’ the next time you feel the burning rage of the inadequate and dispossessed sweep you away in all its hellish glory.

Scorpio

The devil always collects Scorpio, and this month you’re writing cheques your mouth, as big as it is, can’t cash. What to do? If you can’t bluff your way out of your current situation, I suggest you wash your hands of everything and charter a private plane down to Acapulco. I hear the living is good down there this time of year, for a man with a suitcase full of counterfeit notes, a fake passport, and a brilliantly creative and ingeniously fraudulent life story. Let your hair down for a bit, before you move on to your next scam. You deserve a well-earned break from the cut and thrust of the rat-race. 

Sagittarius 

Every rose has its thorn Sagittarius my sweet, so the trick is to not eat too many of them. Leeks are apparently quite good for you but then I wouldn’t know. The point is that a little bit of what you fancy can sometimes be more trouble than it’s worth. This month I would keep caution very much on your side instead of throwing it to the wind my little pet. When you run with the bulls you get the horns, and if you’ve ever seen a matador impaled by a half-crazed and rampaging beast focused on nothing else but ripping the guts right out of it’s prancing tormenters, then you would think twice before saying ‘yes’ to any novel opportunities that present themselves this month. 

Capricorn

Beggars can’t be choosers Capricorn. So when someone offers you some good advice this month, I suggest you ruddy well take it. The truth can often be as plain as a pikestaff, but sometimes, metaphorically speaking,  it takes a person with a big stick to repeatedly hit you over the head before you see sense. We’re all in the gutter Capricorn, but some of us are looking up at the stars. They’re quite bright aren’t they. Well just remember you old goat, all that glitters is not gold and no-one likes a a know it all. Think carefully the next time you want to disagree with someone this month and ask yourself the following question, “Perhaps it is I who am the idiot?”

Aquarius

As you gently tiptoe through the tulips this month Aquarius, have a word will you. 

You’re a bit old for this kind of nonsense now, no matter what lotion or potion you have chosen to enhance your mental state this month. You’ve been living somewhere over the rainbow for far too long, And your pot of gold is running awfully low isn’t it dear. You’ve outstayed your welcome in the land of make believe and even the munchkins have turned on you. It’s time to take off those red heels fella, you’re fooling no-one. I suggest this month you follow the yellow brick road all the way back to your day-job and try to get a little bit of normality back into your farcical existence. 

Pisces

Do you know Pisces my fruity little fish, a call centre worker once said to me in between mouthful after mouthful of steak bake, “People in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones!” Obviously this cretin had never tasted the sheer unbridled abandon of putting a brick through the window of their local job centre. Have you I wonder Pisces? It may not secure you gainful employment but it’ll certainly be a fine release for all that pent-up frustration that’s been eating you up of late. Every bull needs a red flag my dear, now this month I suggest you find yours. Now get your head down and charge.