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The Death of NickM’s Politics

Regular readers (Gawd bless you one and all) might have noted that I have decreasingly written on politics. Well, I‘ve become so disenchanted over the years that I can’t bring myself to do it anymore. £12 billion down the Sewanee for an NHS computer system that is now scrapped (are they having a yard sale? If so where and when?) and I’m like, yeah, right, whatever! I’m that (to use a phrase of my late great aunt) piggy rotten sick of the whole shooting match I no longer care to type that tripe. If only it were a shooting match. I get to bag Ed Balls, right?

Anyway, enough of that reverie.

I watched a bit of “Thelma & Louise” on TV last night and there is a point in it where Thelma tells Louise, “Something in me crossed over”. I got that, Thelma. I’ve so crossed over.

There is a difference of course between the thing itself and the realization, between the decisive point of the battle and the victory parade.

I’ll give you the victory parade (the point of realization) first. It’s the Lib Dem conference. An earlier NickM would be hammering the KB to death over their madcap schemes and desperate attempts to put clear yellow water between themselves and the Tories (9% in the polls, they must be pissing themselves). I would be delighting in skewering such ideas as the hiring of more tax inspectors as a vote winner or Chris Huhne berating the energy companies when we all know his attempts at playing Windy Miller are the real reason for hikes in ‘tricity prices.

I would also point out a few further things based upon these. The first would be that the Lib Dems don’t appear to have an accountant amongst them otherwise they’d know the difference between tax evasion and tax avoidance. The second (according to yesterday’s Telegraph) is that the tax-crackdown will inter-alia focus on cash in hand private tuition. Yeah, they make it out they’re gonna be going through the books of Russian oligarchs and asking Roman Abramovich some very hard questions indeed. Heck they might even send the bailiffs round for Fernando Torres! But no! It’s about scaring the bejesus out of your local music teacher who does a few piano lessons on the side. You know that cash-in-hand grey economy that keeps things ticking over. It reminds me of the communist-era Georgian curse, “May you have to live on your salary!”.

As to energy “policy”… Well, to prevent the lights going off there will be a crash-build of gas sets. I have been saying this for years and I’ll bet anyone a Coke it will pan out that way. The gas is slated to come from Russia, Saudi Arabia and Nigeria or Evil, Vile and Corrupt (sounds like a provincial law firm) as I calls ‘em. Coal is of course verboten and Greenpus are of course priapic with joy over Fukushima despite our signal lack of tsunamis. So we shall have Putin or Medvedev or King Abdullah or this card telling Dave (or whoever), “You’re my wife now”*. For shame! Nuclear is safe in the UK but try telling the loons. Coal (since Maggie and Arthur danced with the Devil in the pale moonlight) is mainly imported from Australia and Poland. Do you want your power to be sourced from the earlier three or from the latter two – stable nations we have extremely cordial relations with. Indeed I’m off to Poland quite soon. Australia is a bit of a hike but I have rellies there and I bet you do too.

But enough of that! Let’s get onto the real turning point. It was the riots and more to the point one particular response to them.

“What happened in Salford on Tuesday night was not about protest; it was about deliberate, organised, violent criminality.”

A speech in Parliament from the Rt Hon Hazel Blears MP. It’s on her own website.

Da yoof knocked over shops and lifted TVs and such.

Compare and contrast with this…

In May 2009 The Telegraph reported that Blears had been claiming the maximum allowable expenses, to under a pound, for three properties, as well as for stays in hotels, £4,874 on furniture, £899 on a new bed and £913 on a new TV, the second such TV in under a year, and the maximum £400 a month in groceries, they also claimed that Blears had not paid capital gains tax on profit from the sale of a London flat. The property was registered as her main residence with HM Revenue and Customs, but Blears had been claiming MPs’ second home expenses relating to the flat. It was claimed that she had made a £45,000 profit on its sale without paying capital gains tax. On 12 May she volunteered to pay the £13,332 capital gains tax she had avoided on the sale of her ‘second home. It was subsequently claimed that Gordon Brown had ordered her to repay the sum. The Daily Mail printed allegations that Blears ‘flipped’ her homes in London three times in one year. Flipping is the practice of switching which of two or more properties is designated an MP’s “second home”. This can allow an MP to maximise his taxpayer-funded allowances.

She stole TVs. Oh, she didn’t break any windows to do it but she still stole or at least gamed the system beyond breaking point. Claiming an allowance for “groceries”? For fuck’s sake! Do you or me expect somebody else to pay for our aubergines? It is only in the state-approved nature of the robbery and violence that Blears differs from her constituent’s Tom and Jerryism. And yes, I do mean violence. You don’t pay your taxes to fund such rapacity you ultimately wind-up in a world of pain.

But what really gets my goat, with a firm grip on the horns, and takes it roughly from behind is this. This is in the masthead of Ms Blears website…

My home and my heart are in Salford,
and my work is dedicated to local
people and their families

I don’t care where her home (which one?) is but I know her heart is in an evil place (Salford ain’t too rough these days) and it and the rest of her body ought to be in a burlap sack weighted with half-bricks at the bottom of the Manchester Ship Canal. That ought to be the end of Hazel “Squirrel Nutkin” Blears because it wasn’t her nuts she was squirreling away.

It is the blatant hypocrisy that gets me.

That was my tipping point. I didn’t quite know it at the time but it was.

*Forward to 2:30


  1. Adam Collyer says:

    How do you stack that with your earlier post, “The Need for Another Thatcher Moment”?

  2. Adam Collyer says:

    OK, sorry, it wasn’t YOUR earlier post. Ignore me…

  3. Sam Duncan says:

    I know what you mean. Holding the informal position of North British Correspondent, I feel I should say something about the new Edinburgh Parliament’s legislative programme. But honestly, I just can’t face it. And I now realise that I haven’t really been paying attention to the place for about ten years. Europe (and, granted, the bizarre policy of the “nationalists” as regards The Other Union), what the Septics are up to, yes, but the mess the neighbours are making of my own back yard… it’s just too depressing to contemplate.

  4. JuliaM says:

    “It is only in the state-approved nature of the robbery and violence that Blears differs from her constituent’s Tom and Jerryism. “

    Also in the fact that we can vote her out, and thus bring an end to her looting (for someone else to take up the reins, ok, but work with me here).

    Where do I vote out Duwayne and Samir?

  5. NickM says:

    A cheap shot (but a good one). Truth is neither you nor me can vote out Hazel Blears. We- by which I mean I – have a better chance with Duwayne and Samir if I’m on jury duty and the case is heard at Chester assizes. Then there would be a strong potential for them to enter the Big Brother House (aka Strangeways). I was not BTW giving a bye to rioters just noting that I see no great moral distinction between their acts and the acts of Blears. The deeper truth is I didn’t even have the chance to vote out my local MP who (with his missus – also an MP for a neighbouring constituency) was the king of looters and vagabonds – Nick Winterton. He retired to spend more time with his multiple properties. Still got a Tory – but then you could pin a blue rosette on a pig round here and it would win. Where I’m from originally you could do much the same with a red one. If my mukka Paul Marks fancies a run at Westminster this has to be one of the safest Tory seats in the country. He could even campaign on a libertarian platform. To be honest he (or anyone) could even not bother campaigning. They didn’t in 2010. I spoiled my ballot. I might have voted Tory – I have done in the past – In Levenshulme [another red rosette on a pig constituency] if they’d even bothered to campaign here. I’m sure they did in Macc but here… nah. So feck ‘em all. In my native North East I always voted tactically to get rid of Labour to no end. John McWilliam (a typical Labour placeman – former shop steward etc) always got in. He could have been caught on camera buggering a goat but he still would have got in despite (ungulent sodomy aside) my one big objection. During his tenure in the Commons he never asked a single question (I checked with Hansard). Hell, I went to school with his daughter (same year, same art class, knew her quite well). But then during his stint as an MP Isaac Newton only asked one question and that was about it being a bit chilly in the chamber. Pretty much sums up my view on politics. Great things happen despite politics. Apart from the internet which was obviously invented by St Albert of the Goracle. He won the Nobel prize for Piss(ing civilization up the wall) or something. For a fucking Powerpoint presentation! I am generally against capital punishment but bullet-points deserve bullet points if you catch my drift.

  6. Tosh says:

    They are paid by the state and promote the state to pay them, and increasingly politicians of any hue are all the same. Many of them have never worked, or if they did it was in some cosy state-funded pointless task, and their sole outlook is to perpetuate the gravy train. Their only outrage is if they are denied what they see as their supposedly rightful place at the trough; the have seen the Blairs and the rest line their nest and elect themselves more privileges and more comfort. They are separate from out lives and indivisible as they nurse each other’s expectations and greed. They will take the money and the gifts and the praise from their fellow members and expect us to pay for it.

    I believe once upon a time parliament was made up of people who worked for a living, and the House sat in the evening when the members had finished their daily work. But now they are whole and complete in their grandeur and isolation, so they can talk about ‘listening’ to the people and yet haven’t got the time to do anything about it. They say the words they think we want to hear but don’t care beyond the next pay-packet.

    Democracy to the majority of MPs means one thing; one vote at one time, and the best part of five years to fuck the rest of it.

    A while ago I resolved never to vote again as there is, frankly, no point. Yet my instinct will always be to vote the other way from the resident office-holding donkey (always painted bright red, round my way) even if it will never do any good. It may be if I lived in a Blue-donkey area or God preserve us, an orange tainted donkey I would vote the other way.

    Pointless, maybe, but it makes me feel I can at least register a small note of disapproval.

  7. Tim Newman says:

    “The gas is slated to come from Russia, Saudi Arabia and Nigeria or Evil, Vile and Corrupt (sounds like a provincial law firm) as I calls ‘em.”

    The gas will come from Qatar to a far greater degree than Saudi, but that’s not really important. Nor is this, but I’ll say it anyway: Nigeria’s production is going to increasingly come via a large French oil company, who are pretty much the only major oil company investing in large capital projects in Nigeria. And the two largest new Russian gas projects – Shtokman and Yamal – both have that very same large French oil company as the major western partner. So, not only are you making the Russians, Arabs, and Nigerians rich, you are also allowing the French to enjoy a 35-hour working week.

    Which incidentally, from a purely selfish perspective, is a wonderful state of affairs.

  8. NickM says:

    Shafted by the fucking French as well. It just gets better…

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