Let's Hope He Got A Good One

A pay-off, I mean. Clive Goodman has been sacked by the the News of the World, while in prison, no less, for hacking into the phones of Royalty. Now, it is hard to defend what Clive did, but the reasons for it are obvious - under pressure to produce stories he did anything he could. It's a shame the stories were so mediocre, but there we are, and hardly worth losing your life over. But it says so much about the way that News International, particularly, operates. They will be able to sack him without compensation because he has been convicted of an offence - so perhaps he did not get a pay-off after all. Either way, this is hardly the way to reward a man who has worked for you for more than 15 years. Still, you're only ever as good as your last story.

Ding Dong Ming Mong!

Wonderful cock-up over the weekend. "We don't need PR to support you," the Minger tells Brown. Which is a bit unfortunate really, different as it is to what has been said before. Might as well just bend over, really, Ming, and join the other 50 per cent of your party who take it up the arse. Ming's merry men could not organise an Oaten in a public lavatory, could they? Particularly foolish as they look trying to deny it all today. Mind you, Ming is getting old and probably just forgot to mention it. But the point is that he has nailed himself to the Labour mast when there is a large part of his party who think that a) the Tories are likely to have the most MPs after the next election and b) the Lib Dems should join up with Cameron's "liberal" Conservatives and not grey Gordon's antediluvian army. Can we see a split coming, with the Orange Bookers and fellow travellers going with the Tories and the sandal-wearers heading to support Labour? That would be fun.

Lies, Damn Lies And The Sun Gagged.

Sun gagged? I did. It is true that crack open journalism and you will find a basic kernel of untruth but the Sun has outshone even itself this morning with a disingenuous pile of old crap written by its political editor. "Sun Gagged" screams the headline, about the injunction against the BBC's "cash for questions" story and the alleged killer email. Of course, the implication of the Sun story is that the Sun has that email and has been targetted by Lord Goldsmith, the AG himself, because of its fearless and highly professional journalism. Bollocks. The injunction applies to all publications and if the Sun has the email or would ever publish it am Recess Monkey's uncle and believe Margaret Thatcher is dead.

Let's All Make A Bomb

A stirring call to arms in the Times today from Danny Finkelstein, setting out the reasons why we should attack Iran, an action which seems to me eminently sensible if your definition of sensible is outright, stark-staring mad. I am sure many people will take it seriously, appearing as it does in the world's smallest paper of record owned by a porn-peddling Australo-American. Less perceptive readers, because it was mentioned nowhere in the article, may not, however, realise that Danny Finkelstein is Jewish. And could just have a particular bagel to bake.

Fucking Hell I Got Propositioned Tonight

By which I mean, there I was walking along Piccadilly, having come from the pub and thinking, blimey must get to Piccadilly Circus tube, when what looked like an Italian tourist young lady walked up and said, got a light. Yes, I say, because I had, and offered to light her cigarette, after she proffered it, for her. As I did so her hand went somewhere and mine, frankly, ever pragmatic, went to my wallet, to check it was still there. Very strange, and I thought, hey what is happening here? What was her plan? Well, clearly money. Do I look like a John? I bloody hope not. But what was on offer? Blow job in Green Park? Long tube journey home for soulless/ful sex on my sofa in my sad living space in sarf London? I mean, what was she thinking of? And she clearly by the end of the invitation was not Italian. Of course, I went my chaste way home. I thought, well, that sort of thing probably happened in the 18th century, but how fascinating that eastern Europeans seem to be re-animating our past. I have lived in London for 20 years and that has NEVER happened before. Welcome to the new world comrades. I said she could be my cleaner. What have we done?

Pass De Story On De Left Hand Side

So how come the "exclusive" story of David Cameron smoking weed - gasp! - at Eton was in every Sunday newspaper first edition bar two? As we know, it originated with those remarkable sleuths at the Independent on Sunday, James Hanning and Francis Elliott, who have pubished a book called Cameron: Something Or Other and clearly know how to use a newspaper library. It was then sold by their publishers to the Mail On Sunday, where Simon Walters, political editor, wrote yet another exclusive that someone had given him. But how then did it get into the News of the World, the Sunday Times, the Sunday Express (what?), the Observer and the Sunday Telegraph? Theories exist. Was it a Conservative anti-spin spin operation, on the basis that they aimed to defuse the "exclusive" nature of the story and make it simply ho-hum, which it was? Did the Mail on Sunday leak it so they would not have to pay as much for the story (that has been known to happen in newspapers, you know)? The only trouble with the Tory theory is the inclusion of the Observer, but then it is so counter-intuitive that it makes sense and the editor is a Tory anyway. Or was it a disgruntled hack who had fallen upon the story before and had it denied by the Tory machine then got wind it was around last weekend? We may never know. But it might be worth hanging around with the boys in Victoria to find out.....

The Daily Mail - A Warning From History

A piece in the Daily Mail by Geoffrey Levy, about the Baader-Meinhof/Red Army Faction terrorist Brigitte Mohnhaupt, who is about to be paroled, has the sub-headline "As a member of Baader-Meinhof, this owman murdered nine innocent people". Would anybody like to help me define "innocent"?

Pizza and Capitalism - Why Pizza Express Should Be Nationalised

When I was but a lad, Pizza Express pizzas used to be quite pleasant, really. In fact, and this may be a sign of complete provincialism and lack of sophistication of any sort, they were a bit of a treat. Then a few years ago, the restaurant pizzas seemed to get smaller and just a little bit crap. Now they are sold in supermarkets. I had one last night for my tea. It was disgusting, inedible, a disgrace. And do you know why? Because, as any student of business will be aware, the original, jazz-loving founder of Pizza Express, Peter Boizot, is long gone, and the chain is now owned by private equity. The scum of the earth. Give the people back their pizzas.

How The Veil Works

I find the wearing of the veil in this country by Muslim women offensive and mediaeval, but it does seem to work. I was standing next to a seated, veiled young woman on the tube today, with a rucksack on her lap, and all I could look at were her hands.

Cowardly, Cowardly Bastards

I am just going to say one thing here, and it is in the post headline. They are all careerists when it comes down to it. How dare these cunts promulgate one thing in an EDM - political graffiti as has been said and now proved - and then not vote for it. Tony Blair has caused death and mayhem on an unimaginable scale and he gets away with it. I do not care about the Iraqis really, sad to say, but I do care about some poor bastard from Preston having his legs blown off or his mate dying for no reason. Tell me what the reason is. And then these chicken Labour MPs back out when they have a chance to stop it. I am not going to go on about the geo-political imperatives but this is simply madness. I will leave the analysis for others. But why squander our troops' lives on a shithole?

Keith Allen: An Apology

All right, I still think you are basically a cunt. But the Sheriff of Nottingham makes me laugh. Particurlary the line last week or so when the Sheriff was allegedly assasinated by a "terrorist". I shot the Sheriff, says said terrorist. No you didn't, says Keith. You shot the deputy. Referring to his lookalike, who was in the village in his stead. OK, I know he didn't write it. But it was delivered well. Bit of respect.

Jon Cruddas Must Be Labour Deputy

As the political debate rages (oh, all right then) over who is going to replace the bonking lard-bucket as deputy once Tone fucks off to the celebrity-politico circuit, the power of the people should go behind Mr Cruddas. Forget Hilary Benn - his dynasty is well discredited and even if he had the views of his father he would have to be liquidated before getting his bum on the deputy's seat. No, Jon deseves it. After all, he was the first agent of the Comintern to penetrate Downing Street since the days of Harold Wilson.

PS apologies to my reader for a) the previous two posts and b) a prolonged absence. I was a) pissed b) crushing a Trotskyite outbreak near Nuneaton

Keith Allen Come On Then

You useless sad cunt...the only thing you were ever any good in was The Comic Strip's The Bullshitters, which was an attempt to take the piss out of The Professionals, which sort of worked, but is mainly now a historical record of pre-regeneraion Docklands. Now you are tarting your daughter about.....

Lily Allen

Don't you want to slap the spoiled North London bitch? Actually, I would rather punch her dad....

Matthew Parris Is A Sad Git

I am sorry but I cannot believe that Matthew Parris, spinster of this, er, parish, political commentator of alleged note, llama-breeder, supercilious cunt and general all-round gay man was loath to publish his civil partnership celebrations with a boy much his younger this week. He even left out the official gay and royal correspondent of the alleged newspaper the Times, from which he draws a large salary and for which he writes crap about being a gay man, political commentator (what does that actually mean) and a llama-breeder. Only sort of breeder he will ever be, dearie. That Times corespondent was Andrew Pierce, the high queen of gay journalism, who had to follow a story by the excellent Richard Kay in the Mail. Andy must have been, ooh, spitting. Matty (as we do not call him) hitched up with a much younger man who started life as his reseacher and is now a leader writer on the - wait for it - Guardian. His name is Julian Glover, who I have always thought was an actor, but clearly not, who is married to that lovely middle-aged actress who got her tits out throughout the 1980s in the History Man and House of Cards. No, this Julian Glover is clearly only there because he is sleeping with Matthew Parris and looks a bit like David Miliband. But the main point must be that he was Matty's researcher. If I did that I would be vilified, would I not? Destroy all of the self-satisfied cunts.

I Am Not A Racist But

You will find in the newspapers tomorrow ie Wednesday a number of senior business figures calling on Mr Tony Blair, that is the Prime Minister, for now, to allow unfettered immigration from Romania and Bulgaria when they join the EU (however mad that concept may be). Why are they doing this? For exactly the same reason that in the 1950s the advent of the Windrush and its ilk was so welcomed by the capitalist interest: cheap labour. At a time when the working class in this country were having their children educated by the welfare state and the children of miners were becoming accountants, teachers and, heaven forfend, journalists, those same people who put children in the mills or youngsters up chimneys realised that their pool of desperate drudges was being diminshed. Answer? Get a new lot. Exactly what the bastards want now. So are the Poles and the Lithuanians, currently slaving (excuse the joke) at the bottom of the heap, going to be replaced by others even cheaper? You bet they are, if these bastards have their way. So what of the remnants of the British working class? Well, you could argue that if they are still there, they must have missed a trick, but they are, getting more pissed off by the minute. It will take one demagogue to get them moving. I might be free next Tuesday.

Most Superfluous Notice Of The Week

Evening Standard, comment section, page 12: "Yasmin Alibhai-Brown is away."

It Asda Be A Joke

In 1992, a senior correspondent on a national newspaper earned, I am told, around £40,000. Someone of my acquaintance has just taken a job on a national newspaper, in a specialist role, for £35,000. 14 years later. Now, that is more than a lot of people, but that is not the point. Even underestimating inflation, the £40,000 would now be £60,000. Clearly someone, somewhere, is having a laugh. I think we know who it is. The Asda-isaton of our society continues apace. There is nothing wrong, on the surface, with low prices, or low wages if they still give spending power. After all, it is all relative. The first packet of fags I ever bought cost 37.5 of your new pence. However, this concept will always be skewed in favour of the boss class. Low prices, they say, mean lower wages are acceptable. But the gap is inherently biased against the worker/consumer. Not to mention the child making trainers in China or Bangladesh. Something for three pounds is expensive if you only have £150 a week to pay for everything. In America, $30,000 dollars is considered to be a middle class salary, which even there is arrant rubbish. Anyway, back to the newsroom. We all know the printers were bastards, particularly the National Graphical Association president, a Mr M. Mouse, and his deputy, Mr B. Bunny, but I am sure you will recognise the phrase that if you tolerate this, your children will be next. And, my scrbbling friends, they have been.

Doctor Fucking What

I am fucking seething. I am angry beyond words. I cannot articulate my fucking fury. But I will. I have just watched the latest episode of Doctor Who several days late, thanks to Mr Rupert Murdoch's Sky + systemy thingy. What a pile of shite. How dare they do this? I have loved the new series but suddenly whoever this twat is who used to write Shameless, who has grandly written this episode about a bunch of Doctor Who fans, taking the piss, diverts it into a post-modernist ironic load of bollocks. Do not take the piss, you useless gay twat. Sorry, generally. Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks. Oh sorry, politics.....shit I can't be bothered.

Do I Really Need To Say Anything?

From Alastair Campbell via the capitalist interweb thingy:

Tomorrow England kick off their World Cup campaign. And you can follow their progress on Labour's website with myself and Sadiq Khan, MP for Tooting. Sadiq and I will be watching all the drama and excitement from Germany and will be blogging exclusively on the site. You never know... there might even be a bit of politics along the way. Please join us online and send in your comments. We'd be delighted to hear your views.
Labour.org.uk/worldcup
Alastair Campbell , one of Labour's World Cup bloggers

Re views: bet you wouldn't.