Christmas Silliness #12

12 Days of Christmas, Irish Style, Frank Kelly



Nollaig Shona Duit!

Incurable Hippie Guff Filleted.

Ooh, ooh, ooh I'm feeling a bit giggly, having found myself discussed on a blog which links to Melanie Phillips, and not even as a joke!

Anyway, UK Commentators thought I was wrong to poke fun at Christian fundamentalists, as I did here, especially when I did the Amnesty International Greetings card campaign, including sending a card to someone held without charge in Guantanamo Bay.

So, UK Commentators thinks I have contradicted myself, indeed describes it as Cognitive Dissonance. He then linked to a couple of my photos (one of a star on the side of an old masons' pub and one of a demolished building. That's about it really.

The comments are worth quoting, for comedy value if nothing else. Here goes:

Rob said...
Note his mocking about the Christian who believed that "husband and wife should vote as one", yet is someone who sends Christmas cards to Islamists!

Bizarre. Does she really not see the reality of Islamism, or is she willfully blind to it just because they are our enemy, and any enemy of the West is a useful ally?

In an Islamist state, even a fairly mild one, her chances of remaining even a few of the things she calls herself - feminist, geek, warrior, etc are slim indeed. She could become a baby factory though. I'm sure she'd love that.

9:55 AM
Rob said...
Sorry, 'her' mocking

9:56 AM
paul ilc said...
Laban - Thank you for reading such guff as Incurable Hippy, and serving it up filleted and criticised. You have more patience and a stronger stomach than I have.

10:07 AM
Homophobic Horse said...
She could, at best, claim to be against both Islam and Human Rights abuse. This is unlikely.

9:22 PM

For what it's worth, I'm not a fan of any religion. Unlike the commenters, I don't see Islam or Muslims as any kind of enemy. I am uncomfortable with any kind of religious law, from swearing on the Bible to Sharia Law, Jewish Law or anything which involves personal beliefs in politics.

I am against human rights abuses of any kind, and I don't see sending a message of support to someone held against international law by America as the same thing as supporting fundamentalist Islam. They are completely different issues, even though the human rights abuses in Guantanamo Bay are certainly fuelling any rise of people angry against the West.

UK Commentators has lots of links - I had to go visit Never Trust a Hippy but was quite disappointed. They also link to the attractively named Fulham Reactionary (I have a mental picture), and the author of that also writes on Christianophobia Watch and New Crusaders.

Others links are Nationalist News, which is particularly ugly, Vote Franco, Tottenham Lad, the dreaded Christian Voice, the Christian Institute, and of course the 'men's rights' Angry Harry, UK Men's Rights Movement and Fathers for Justice.

I'm leaving the links there - you can see for yourself if you want more (and there are plenty more), except for one final mention - Peter C Glover, notable for his post Sarah Palin: Conservative of the Year, in which he quotes Ann Coulter! I couldn't have found a better example of 'no need to parody because he does it well enough himself' if I'd tried!

Christmas Silliness #11

The 12 Days of Indian Christmas

Christmas Silliness #10

Foster Brooks - 12 Drunken Days of Christmas

Christmas Silliness #9

The 12 Days After Christmas

Christmas Silliness #8

12 Days of the War on Christmas (Fox Style)

Christmas Silliness #7

The 12.5 Days of Christmas

Christmas Silliness #6

Christmas Silliness #5

The 12 isms of Christmas

Christmas Silliness #4

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Sir Trevor McDonald!

A t-shirt I designed recently, I'm pleased with it!

It's actually on sale at

Yey!

Good Old Charlie Brooker

Old article, just about sums up my last few days...

There's a plague stalking the land and I'm terrified. But here's how to avoid Norovirus meltdown ...

Fear stalks the land; stalks my land at any rate. I've landed a starring role in my own personal horror movie: Day of the Norovirus. Gastric flu, the winter vomiting bug, spewmonia: whatever you want to call it, it's out there, somewhere, festering on every surface, waiting to infect me. Britain is diseased: a septic isle bobbing on an ocean of warm sick.
The media have had a field day, and to an emetophobe like me (someone with an uncontrollable, inbuilt fear of puking), this merely amplifies the terror. A headline such as "Vomiting bug spreads across nation" sets my pulse racing twice as effectively as "Mad axeman on loose".

Even worse are the war stories: vivid blog postings from survivors, gleefully describing the full extent of their biological meltdown. They're trying to outdo each other.

"I had to lie naked in the bath for three days, blasting hot fluid from both ends."

"Yeah? Well I vomited so hard, all the hair on my head got sucked inside my skull and out my mouth."

"Pfff - think that's bad? At one point I spewed with such force, the jet fired me backwards through a stained-glass window, and I literally burst apart on the patio, sending a geyser of vomit and crap 600 feet into the sky."

And if they're not online, they're crawling into the office to tell you all about them. While still infectious. If I was running things, it would be dealt with like a zombie outbreak: shoot all victims in the head at the first sign of infection, then barricade the windows till the end credits roll.

Worse still, it apparently strikes without warning. Infection takes 12-28 hours to come to fruition, quietly making its way to your small intestine, and, at first, you're none the wiser. The physical symptoms come on so suddenly, you only truly know you've got it when you suddenly spot a jet of vomit flying away from your face. And then you're locked in. It's like knowing the sun could explode at any second and being powerless to prevent it.

Naturally I want to avoid it like the plague, because it is a plague. And I've become an expert. Here's how to avoid it yourself.

Forget those fancy anti-bacterial handgels. They're pointless. Don't worry about breathing it in; unless you're unlucky enough to inhale a fresh droplet of sick or faeces (which can happen if someone explodes right beside you), you can still get away unscathed even if someone in your immediate vicinity comes down with it. It's not carried in saliva either. The one thing you must do is wash your hands with hot water and soap for a minimum of 15 seconds before putting them in your mouth, nose or eyes.

Easier said than done. Once you're aware of it, it's incredible how often you touch a shared surface, then your mouth, without even thinking. Say you pop to the newsagents and buy a bag of crisps: that door handle could be caked in sick germs, and you've just slid them down your gullet along with the salt and vinegar. Or you're in an office: you use someone else's keyboard, then eat a sandwich. Why not lick a toilet bowl and have done with it?

But even washing your hands is tricky. Take the workplace toilet. The door handle, the taps and the button on the automated dryer may all be infected. You have to turn the tap with your elbow, wash for 15 seconds (time it: it's longer than you think), then turn the tap off with the other elbow. Then you'll need two paper towels: one to dry yourself, and the other to open the door with on your way out. Unless you do all of this, you're doomed.

I've become an obsessive compulsive disorder case study, repeatedly washing my hands like Lady Macbeth on fast-forward, acutely aware of where my hands are at all times, what I've just touched, and where they're heading next. It's exhausting, like consciously counting every blink.

Yesterday, in an attempt to prod some sanity back into my life, I went to a restaurant. Eating out is insane: even if your chef is hygienic in the first place, unless he's devoutly following the paper-towel hand-washing routine outlined above to the letter he may as well wipe his bum on your plate. Nonetheless, I decided to risk it. Giving in to emetophobia would be like giving in to the terrorists, yeah? End result: I lay awake for hours last night, convinced that I'd start hurling any second.

There's one chink of sunlight for us emetophobes: we hardly ever actually vomit. There are various theories as to why, and it's all a bit chicken-and-egg: either we're so naturally hardy that vomiting is a rarity (and therefore more traumatic when it does occur), or we're so psychologically averse to it, we can will ourselves to stop. In fact, if I was on Heroes, that would be my superpower. A few years ago I caught a noro-style gastric nasty that made all my friends spew like ruptured fire hydrants. I lay in bed with cramps and a fever, battling extreme nausea for four days, and somehow didn't snap. Although what was happening at the other end of my body was another story altogether. Magic powers only stretch so far. That's why Superman wears rubber knickers.

Anyway, it'll blow over soon. The media have already got new scare stories to torture us with. In the meantime, if you're reading this on a bus, in an office, or at a shared computer, and you're eating your lunch - God help you. Now wash your hands.

Christmas Silliness #3

London Gay Men's Chorus: Coming Out at Christmas

Christmas Silliness #2

The 12 Days of Chavmas

Christmas Silliness #1

The 12 Gays of Christmas

It takes a rich man to pour such scorn on the poor

by Matthew Norman.

As the disability defiant Churchill would agree, an army must carry its wounded

Please don't take this the wrong way, by reading into it any witless cockney rhyming slang intent that isn't there, but the man behind this new assault on our benefit-dependent poor would appear to be a total investment banker.

Perhaps I do David Freud, architect of the White Paper on welfare reform, a disservice. Maybe, during all his years raising £50bn for the likes of Railtrack and EuroDisney, Mr Freud sat up night after night with the ProPlus, studying the issue until dawn broke over a lavish home far removed, we may guess, from the sink estates he claims he wants to salvage from workless despair.

And yet, by his own words, it seems not. "I didn't know anything about welfare when I started," he told The Daily Telegraph in February, "but that may have been an advantage... In a funny way, the solution was obvious." The special hilarity here, apart from the notion of any obvious answer to so ferociously complex a social conundrum, is how long he took to travel from absolute ignorance to omniscience.

Hired by the Works and Pensions Secretary James Purnell to address this small matter, it took him – wait for it now; just wait for it – three weeks to research and write his initial report. Admittedly by New Labour policy-creation standards, this is hardly a rush job. But by any more conventional measure, 21 days is on the brisk side for so monumental an intellectual challenge.

Still, let's not fall into that very trap by rushing to judge Mr Freud as a man prone to the lure of the simplistic. Indeed, writing in yesterday's Times, he touched impressively on the thinking behind the wizard wheeze of forcing long-term incapacity benefit claimants back to work. "Some of our greatest national heroes suffered from disabilities," he explained, "from Nelson with his lost eye to Churchill with his 'Black Dog' depression, to the physicist Stephen Hawking..."

So there it is. Should you happen to be one of history's greatest maritime warriors, or suited to safeguarding the country from Nazi tyranny while moonlighting as a Nobel literature Laureate, or the Lucasian Professor of Mathematics with rare insight into cosmology and quantum gravity, you really have no excuse for allowing a disability to keep you marooned on the sofa watching Jeremy Kyle.

It's the rest I worry about. For every Churchill manqué, Nelson wannabe and putative Prof Hawking, there may possibly (I haven't spent three weeks on this, so excuse the caution) be others who aren't up to much on the work front. They might suffer from crippling back pain, arthritis, or agoraphobia. Plagued by chronic depression, but denied the spur of having Hitler's army poised across the Channel, they might lack the motivation to clean offices or ask "fries with that?" in return for the minimum wage.

Or they might simply be too battered and bruised by the confidence-sapping, skills-denying residue of a shameful apology for an education to care less. Inevitably a portion of the millions subsisting on a benefit designed to make the unemployment figures more palatable are, to borrow from Mr Purnell, playing the system. And while we might argue whether their reluctance to work makes them lazy or inadequate, we surely agree that they are the walking (or slouching) wounded too; and that, as that champion of disability-defiance Winston Churchill would agree, an army must always carry its wounded.

This, it seems to me, is the crux of the debate. To Mr Freud it may be about gaining the entrée into the peerage or quangocracy men with untold bonus millions tucked away often crave. For Mr Purnell, who mollifies on the record while briefing the papers off it that he's one tough muthah with one gigantic cudgel, it's presumably about ingratiating himself with the Sun and Daily Mail with his summer 2011 leadership campaign in mind. For some of us, however, it's about clinging to what vestiges of a civilised society remain to us.

The fact that nothing significant will change – that this Bill will have its teeth filed down to the stumps by that gallant cabal of backbenchers who remember why they joined the Labour party in the first place – is not the point. Nothing important will change because in this area nothing ever does. Soon after taking power, in the week he chartered a 747 to Seattle for £700,000, Mr Tony Blair floated the intention to trim "workshy" single mothers' benefits by £11 per week. He earned a few nice headlines, and the reflex disgust from the centre-left that was also mother's milk to him, but the political price of such malevolence was too high, and the proposal was quietly buried.

This latest sub-Thatcherite, far right-wing political posturing may come loosely disguised in the raggedy cloak of stick-and-carrot philanthropy, but it would come at a higher price still. The wilful stupidity of the timing, with at least a million poorly paid jobs about to vanish, needn't detain us. The concept of punishing the poor for receiving the assistance that is their right, by making them dig the gardens of the better off, feels like a pastiche of the vindictive nihilism of the rock-breaking Alabama chain gang.

What stinks worse than the idea is the tone. From the pious, cruel-to-be-kind brayings of the Freud-Purnell pantomime donkey, every word emanating from the rear end, they seem confused into thinking that the jobless have a lesser stake in this society than the employed, and believe in the deserving and undeserving poor. To watch a minister with a plumply padded pension and a free widescreen telly and, of all creatures, an investment banker threaten those on £69 per week is to observe the unspeakable in pursuit of the unemployable.

The only way to address the syndrome of long-term dependency is through education. It requires massive, sustained public investment in buildings, equipment and, above all, teachers, and knowing that's not going to happen either the grown-up government accepts, as an unavoidable fee for a moderately civilised democracy, that some people will take liberties to secure as much each week as Mr Freud might spend on a bottle of claret, if he was pulling his horns in.

In the absence of schooling worthy of a developed nation, you turn a blind eye to the alleged scroungers not only because the risk of denying the more deserving their dignity is truly unthinkable, but because the lazy and above all the children of the lazy deserve some dignity too. What you don't do is further stigmatise the poor, the sick, the illiterate, the weak, the befuddled and the inadequate for the delight of tabloid editors.

"Love and work, work and love... that is all there is," said Sigmund Freud, and in a utopian world all of us would have oodles of both. Back in the world as it is, meanwhile, another of his quotes comes to mind. "If you can't do it, give it up!" he said. It's advice James Purnell would have done well to consider before unleashing Siggy's great grandson on his three-week crash course in welfare reform.

DAN Press Release

DISABLED PEOPLES' DIRECT ACTION NETWORK

PRESS RELEASE (3/12/2008)

DISABLED PEOPLE TAKE DIRECT ACTION IN CENTRAL LONDON TO PROTEST AND DRAW
ATTENTION TO NEW BENEFIT HARASSMENT

Instead of celebrating the International day of Disabled People today, we -
and our supporters - are in central London protesting against the
government's
"Employment Support Allowance" (ESA) and "Work Capability Assessment" (WCA)
which are replacing "Incapacity Benefit" (IB). This punitive economic attack
will hit thousands of the poorest in society, forcing them further into
poverty and a discriminatory job market, while thousands more are losing
their jobs due to the deepening recession.

A DAN spokesperson said: "If the government were sincere in their attempts
to help Disabled Claimants, they wouldn't be cutting benefits or adding new
hoops in the process. They would target discriminatory employers and fully
appreciate the difficulties those with Invisible and Fluctuating conditions
will have in the job market. This is a cynical exercise designed to move the
goal-posts in assessments and ensure that many will no longer qualify for
the benefits they have been legitimately receiving."

* Political and media spin - suggesting there has been significant
increases in Incapacity Benefit claims - is misleading. The DWP confirms
there has actually been a drop in IB claims since 2000.

* A much higher percentage of Disabled People than previously are now living
in the community and claiming benefits, rather than being institutionalised.

* A long hours / short breaks culture (instead of providing flexi-time or
work from home) makes it harder for Disabled People and those with medical
conditions to cope with employment.

* There is a lack of access to meaningful education and training for
Disabled People, leading to a lack of qualifications, job skills and
therefore decent jobs with adequate incomes.

* ESA and the WCA is an even more punitive benefit and assessment than the
previous procedure (IB). Claimants who fail the new assessment will lose
entitlement to Disability Living Allowance (DLA) as well as ESA.

I Bloody Did It!

I can't believe I've done it! I have completed NaBloPoMo 2008 and posted daily on this hippie blog and on my photography blog throughout November.

The Success! image above come from the funky typogenerator site.

You can see all November's photography blog posts and all November's incurable hippie's musings and rants blog posts.

It was really hard work at times, but a great thing to do as it has really got me back into the swing of regular blog posting again. Though I may have a few days off now!

Phew!


NaBloPoMo 2008

Mumbai in Mourning

From The Guardian.
India struggles to come to terms with the horror of the Mumbai terror attacks.

Bad Week for the BNP. Ha ha ha.

DEDICATED FOLLOWERS OF FASCISM

BNP's Annus Horribilis continues... After last week's leak of their
entire membership list on the web (See SchNEWS 656), the flak has
continued...

* In our previous issue we linked to a website publishing the
membership list, but this has since been withdrawn due to personal
threats of violence to the webmaster. But don't worry you haven't
missed out, it is still online at www.wikileaks.org.

* This week the BNP were evicted from their merchandise warehouse.
Rented by Excalibur - the trading arm of the BNP - it stored such
lovely merchandise as replica military medals, Enoch Powell t-shirts,
'Great White' records and Union Jack mugs. Their ex-landlord made this
statement: "Evans Easyspace was aware of renting a property to
Excalibur, but were not aware of its links to the BNP. We have now
terminated their agreement and they are moving out at the end of
November." In response the BNP have announced that they actually
decided to move to better premises.

* While the BNP membership list revealed a litany of police, prison
officers, soldiers and even vicars, it also contains two paedophiles
- who were jailed last week for sexually abusing two
fourteen-year-old girls.

* In desperation over the disclosure of their membership list the BNP
has been forced into hiding behind the much-hated Human Rights Act.
They've also been firing off dubious legal threats to the likes of
Indymedia. The letter sent to Indymedia by Lee John Barnes LLB
(hons), from the "BNP Legal Affairs Unit", threatens to take legal
action, on the basis of theft, data protection and contempt of court,
unless the list of members is removed. For more of LJB's hilarious
antics check out http://weloveleebarnes.blogspot.com.

* This week, all but two of the thirty-three anti-fascists arrested
at the BNP's Red White and Blue Festival in August this year (See
SchNEWS 643) have had their charges dropped. Over twenty were
arrested for violent disorder after the group tried to blockade a
road into the fascist's knees-up. Others were arrested for failing to
comply with police directions on the mass demonstration.

* For more Fashwatch info see www.searchlightmagazine.com and
www.antifa.org.uk.

More such stuff at schnews.