FIRST POST THE PARTS

I know the contents of this ranting organ is ostensibly about Dance and Film, however, given the fact that we ae entirely reliant for funding on whoever is currently Milk Monitor, I felt it incumbent to pen a line or two about last week's political pig fuck.

First Post the Parts

Finally, now that its all over bar the shouting, I think my sense of outrage comes more from the fact that despite literally 24hr wall to wall coverage from the journalists who felt it an absolute right to ensure the politically illiterate majority of us peasantry outside the fortified ghetto walls of Mediacritiville are forced to be part of the appalling spectacle of venality, kant, spin and Napoleonic self-interest that is the process of our horrid little politicians forcing their feet into the trough under the top table - any vestige of the ethical implications were assigned a very lowly place in the order of priorities.

When it came to the insignificant matter of actually disallowing legitimate citizenry to exercise a right for which their not too far distant nearest and dearest fought and died, they really couldn't care less for the democratic issue.
In fact the whole debacle of shutting up the polling stations to catch last orders at the Dog and Duck became merely about finding someone upon whom they could unleash one of their Journattack dogs for the amusement of the increasingly prurient and insomniac telly watching public.

I felt as if we had been forced to walk around and look in at all the bedroom doors of a particularly dirty and low rent brothel on a singularly busy night, populated only by prostitutes of staggeringly low levels of interest in their job.

Does anyone really have the slightest idea how low in importance the scale of values of the sovereign individual has sunk and just what effect this is having on the general well-being of society?
This is not a moral position, it is one of a pastry chef at a clinic for the terminally anorexic - frankly it is rapidly becoming apparent to most members of society that there are better things to do than worry about it and anyway, what's the point, they'll send us home if we get restive, and on the way home its sauvez qui peut, as we dodge large groups of morbidly angry feral hoodies with chips on their shoulders, knives in their pockets and a complete absence of any kind of positive role models or existential compass.

The Greek Government is tear gassing their population rather than allow them the legitimate right to register their literally unutterable confusion and fear that their elected officials have bankcrupted their country which as far as they knew, they had signed up for sovereign and protected membership of the biggest trading bloc in the world.
The British police have been ordered to prevent groups of citizens taking their grievances directly to their elected officials in Parliament Square and are allowed to film them and keep their details on file if they have the temerity so to do and the USA Homeland Insecurity are gradually releasing the unknown number of perfectly innocent detainees of their Waaarrrrontorrrra, now that their toenails have grown back.
Gil Scott-Heron was so right when he opined in 1967 - "The revolution will not be televised" - however, we can now add, "at least, not on any of the free tv channels..."

Now we have the even more edifying process of watching hundreds of our elected officials all going back on the mandates we have just given them, based on promises they have solemnly made to us approximately only 2 days ago.
Recanting their previous heartfelt pledges and generally committing all seven of the deadly sins simultaneously, in order to find the means by which they can continue to slither around in the bottom of the snake pit without biting each other to death too quickly - or at least not before they have had had the chance to shoehorn the word Minister onto their CV, by whatever means necessary

Watching Bremner , Bird and Fortune last week, made me even more aware that the level of satirical defense to this craziness and moral turpitude into which we have all slunk has also chronically deteriorated and in fact I am increasingly annoyed at myself that i initially found funny Jimmy Carr's joke - "The general election - like the Eurovision Song Contest....only more boring and for straight people ..." - which now leaves a far more sinister hanging chad floating in the air, like the smell in the lift of an inner city housing project.

"In order for evil to prevail it merely requires good people to do nothing" - has never been more apt just at this juncture of the world.
If so, could this perhaps be a contributing factor to the slow death of democracy through disinterest? Let's face it, if the only guardians and self-appointed saviours of the nation amount to the British National Party and English Skinheads League, I think Robespierre and The Terror would probably be a more palatable alternative.
Certainly its nothing less than we deserve.

For our significant and uncounted numbers of semi-permanent politicial/economic refugee visitors, this jewel set in a silver sea, is still Albion!
The disconnect with the incumbent population's take on their democratic priveleges is now virtually complete.

It is now terribly important that we acknowledge we clearly have a disproportionate number of people living in what used to be Great Britain, for whom the best they could hope for previously in terms of citizens rights, was that the secret police will not turn up, rape their daughters and kidnap their sons for child soldier duties every night.

Not because they are not welcome, of course they are, no-one "owns" any country and the notion of nationhood is ludicrous - but simply because, caring for our crucial freedoms to behave decently towards eachother and mutually acknowledge the commonwealth of government by the people for the people, can only properly function when we can properly rise above the dysfunctional levels of attention we give the Burkha, the Bovver Boot, the Breast Enhancement and the Bond Trader.

We gave Rupert Murdoch and the BBC our country to run in return for the ability to watch football matches without getting wet, having to stop eating or scratching our privates from the comfort of our sofas, while we sat on what is left of our spines and watched the eerie spectacle of Andrew Lloyds Bank and Simon Howl recast Auschwitz - The Musical.
I'm beginning to wonder if this was a fair trade.

If Murdoch's body parts start suddenly appearing in small padded envelopes, mailed to the Today In Parliament offices at the BBC, check my freezer for the rest - I will be writing bucolic novels beneath vine-chinky shade on my terrace somewhere in Italy - I gather they take democracy a little more seriously there.