It is quite unarguable that film’s biggest franchise is James Bond. No other film series comes close to 007’s fifty year, twenty-four film reign. One suspects other studios will be quite envious of it. What studio executive wouldn’t kill to own a franchise as well established, as much a cultural cornerstone as bond? Could Disney now be using Star Wars to create a similar franchise? Might it now start turning out a new Star Wars film every two years, a la eon with bond? While one can think of quite a few potential contenders for bonds crown – Star Trek, Harry Potter etc – Star Wars has perhaps the best shot of competing with 007. Might disney’s aim, in taking over the Star Wars franchise, now be to create a cultural phenomenon similar to that of bond?

I am sat in the resteraunt area of our hotel, the only place I can get online, sipping coffee and fresh orange juice in the shade. The day is warming up as I watch people come and go, speaking in rapid Spanish to the friendly woman behind the bar. Here and now, in the cool breeze, it’s hard to recall that it’s Christmas and that, back home in London, it’s the depths of winter. Indeed, in this paradise, one can forget winter even exists.

I am fast falling in love with this beautiful place. I had assumed Tenerife would be a tourist attraction; an island of holiday makers, barren of all history and culture, whose soul purpose would be take ones money. But yesterday, taking the tram to La Laguna, i began to glimps a place rich with heritage. The buildings seemed very Spanish; the architecture vibrant, and unlike anything back home. In an instant I remembered why I love travel. There is much more to this Island than I thought, and I woke up today eager to continue exploring.

Just a quick update to say Lyn and I are safe and well in Tenerife. We got here quits late last night, but this morning I found myself on a beautiful Island. Lyn’s idea of having a short winter holiday was awesome; and today we have the whole of paradise to explore.

Up up, early up! Time to get on the road. Time to get up and ready, off and out, breakfasteded, into a taxi, and then

We fly! Out of the great, grey city

To somewhere warmer, if just for a few days.

Right, time to check: passports…luggage…ipads…

All ready! Time to post this, turn off the mac

And go!

I think I’ll just post a link to Lyn’s latest blog on here today. In it, Lyn say she fears she sounds crazy, but I find much of what she writes holds water. People are being controlled through various state-run apparatus, particularly the media, and unless we wake up to it, we risk becoming subservient drones enslaved to a few allpowerful corporations. While I wouldn’t go as far as Lyn in saying there is some kind of global conspiracy or Shadow World Government – not yet, anyway – we need to be alert to the way dominant power structures are continually enforced and independent thought constantly repressed. That, after all, goes back to what Marx was saying 150 years ago.

Earlier online I came across something which truly puzzles me. I’m on several AAC-related groups on facebook, and I keep coming across discussions about the apparent backlash against facilitated communication. Given the nature of FC, a few doubters are to be expected: questions about who is doing the communicating, the disabled person or the person helping them, are bound to crop up. Yet what struck me is the vehemence of the objections. A growing number of people view it with utter contempt, as if it was something politically or morally wrong. They actively oppose it and are calling for it’s practice to be stopped. That utterly baffles me; it’s like objecting to the use of wheelchairs or communication aids. It goes further than debating it’s effectiveness or validity, and frames FC as something evil. In so doing, it denies out of hand the possibility that people who need FC are intelligent enough to communicate. I find that ridiculous; you might as well say the same of me or Lyn! I really don’t get it; and let’s not forget while these academic debates are going on, many severely disabled people will be left totally unable to express themselves.

Our PA Marta just showed me this. It is a letter her daughter sent to father christmas. She included a page from the argos catalogue, just to make sure Santa knew exactly what she wanted. It seemed too endearing not to share here, although you could see it as a sign of how consumerist children have now become…

[img description=”undefined image” align=”centre”]/images/santa let.jpg[/img]

Mind you, given that she also asks for money leads me to wonder whether it may also be a sign that she knows full well who the actual recipient of this letter will be.

This entry is just to note that, sometime recently, my blog hitcount passed the two million mark. Given that I only passed the one million milestone a couple of years ago, the second million was a lot quicker. I must be doing something right to generate so much more interest – either that or I’m getting visited by lots more bots. In any case it’s quite a pleasing milestone to have passed, and incentive enough to keep blogging.

Donald Trump worries me. With his latest comments, he has established himself as a bigot of the worst kind. To the cheers of his unthinking supporters, he has proposed a ban on muslims entering america. When I read that earlier, my jaw dropped. For one, wouldn’t it contravene the american constitution, which prohibits the government passing laws concerning religion? It would be a big step towards making the States a christian-only country, which I’m sure is not what it’s founders intended. Trump is a bigot and a buffoon, only in the position he is in because he had a wealthy father. Much like Nigel Farage over here, he is a loud-mouth xenophobic bully too used to getting his own way; but unlike farage, there is a real chance he could gain a position of power quite soon. That’s what worries me most about Donald Trump: the last thing we need now is a racist, climate change-denying moron in charge of the most powerful and influential country on earth.

I’d be negligent as a blogger if I didn’t flag this excellent piece by my friend Darryl Sellwood up. A disability activist based in Adelaide, Australia, in this article Dazz explores some of the issues surrounding his local disability pride march. I find what he writes about balloons, for example, particularly interesting: is it appropriate to let balloons be tied to one’s wheelchair? Would that not turn a march about some fairly serious issues into too much of a carnival? Darryl unpicks these issues well; you can tell he’s doing a PhD in disability issues as he explores the various ways of looking at things. It also reminds me that I haven’t written anything of the length of this article in ages, and that I need to do some serious analytical writing soon.

As a fervent supporter of the bbc and publicly funded tv in general, I just want to flag this up. ” Sir David Attenborough has voiced concern about the BBC’s future as he returns to film at the Great Barrier Reef, after nearly 60 years. ‘If you lose the BBC, then I certainly would have lost a very important element of my life,’ he says.” The beeb is facing atrocious cuts of £150m. I’d argue that if we lose it, or it becomes greatly diminished, we would loose a central part of british culture. Where else could you see beautiful programmes like David Attenborough’s, free to watch and without commercial interruption? Of course, the tories were always going to attack it – they hate anything based on the principals of sharing and fairness. It’s also why they loathe the nhs. To them, you should only get what you pay for; if you can’t afford it, tough. I’m just relieved we have a tv service as good as the bbc funded by the tv license. The question is, how much longer can it survive given our current government?

I think I need to chill out a bit today. After the awesomeness of Thursday, yesterday was another hectic but cool day. Sat in the o2 thursday evening, Lyn and I noticed advertisements for an upcoming Muse gig. Lyn loves Muse, so first thing yesterday I went back up to North Greenwich to try to get tickets. Unfortunately they were sold out, so I got the bus home empty handed.

Not long after that, though, I set off out again. I was short of cash, so I went to Bexleyheath, getting a few supplies from Asda while there. By the time I got back it was nigh on four and I was already slightly tired, but my day was far from over.

At about five Dom arrived at our place. As we’d planned, he and I set off for the Southbank, leaving Lyn at home. Getting dinner in a pub en route (god I’d missed pub dinners!) we went to the BFI, there to see True Romance (Tony Scott, 1993). Going had been Dominik’s idea, but I was in for a treat. The film ruled; it was a film about film, disguised as a love story. It was written by Quentin Tarantino, packed with great performances from everyone from Dennis Hopper to Christian Slater, and nigh on every frame bears the mark of cinephiliac love. I adored it, and left the screening room itching to see it again.

I was almost nodding off on the train home. It had been a great couple of days. London had done it again: where else but here, in the world’s greatest city, can one have such a variety of fabulous experiences? Days like yesterday make me feel so alive. Today, as I say, I need to rest, but just for a while. Coming home yesterday Lyn told me that she had sorted and booked a holiday for us! How awesome is that. We fly to Tenerife quite soon, but today, I think I just need to chill.

I read somewhere earlier that Idris Elba has confirmed that he is not in the running to play James Bond. If he had taken the role, it would have been the first time 007 had been portrayed by a non-white actor. I’ve come across many reactions from Bond fans online welcoming this move and calling it common sense, but it made me wonder, would a Black Bond be such a bad thing? Those against the idea usually employ a reducto ad absurdum tactic, arguing that a black bond would open the gate to a disabled, lesbian transgender [insert a minority] Bond. That is, it could get silly and deviate too far from the character Ian Fleming created. While I see their point, I think there is room for maneuver with 007. He has always changed over his fifty years in cinema; compare Roger Moore’s Bond to Daniel Craig’s, and you see a completely different man. I have seen nothing in Fleming stipulating Bond’s skin colour, and even if there was, since when have his original texts been taken as gospel? Another argument played the ”it works both ways” card, suggesting that you wouldn’t have a black man playing Bond just as you couldn’t have a white guy playing Shaft. But bond and Shaft have totally different dynamics: the Shaft film(s) were about race with skin colour a major issue; the character was fixed and unchanging. The colour of bond’s skin isn’t fundamental to him, and I find the suggestion it is rather distasteful. As far as I can tell, the objections to an actor like Elba playing bond reduce down to either resistance to change or base prejudice: those screaming ”Bond is white!” forget the unique versatility if the character. 007 has always changed with the times – it’s one of the most fascinating things about the franchise. It might thus be time for Bond to evolve once more; and having a black man play him could take the franchise in an interesting new direction.

It seems you can barely get me out of the o2 arena these days, as I was up there again last night. I went with Lyn to see Deep Purple, and zark, was it awesome! As soon as the warm-up band, Rival Sons, played it’s first chord, I knew we were in for a great night. What followed was about three hours of pure metallic bliss: I suppose Lyn and I are a pair of old rockers; we both love a good dose of old-school heavy metal. The high-point for me was when they played Smoke On the Water: as soon as that famous opening riff struck up, I was out of my chair, on my feet, head-banging like something possessed. The music just took me, and I felt a buzz of sheer awesome.

The evening passed too quickly, and we were soon trying to navigate our way through the crowds trying to leave the o2. But it had been a great night, and I woke up with that famous guitar riff still in my head – what better sign of a great night could there be?

Once again we are at war; once again british planes are bombing an enemy no bomb can defeat. Bombing ISIS, Daesh or whatever we’re supposed to call them will achieve nothing. Those who advocate for this action say that we have to act, that doing nothing is not an option. Yet it seems to me that doing nothing is the only true form of retaliation. The second we strike back, we enter into these thug’s warped, ‘war of civilizations’ narrative. Instead, when faced with an atrocity like Paris, we must simply repair the damage they cause and carry on. We must show them they cannot change us; we must deny them the attention they crave. We must send the message that, whatever they do they cannot change us. To do anything else would be to act out of revenge; it would simply make matters worse, like trying to swat a fly – it just makes it more and more angry, when if you ignore it, it will eventually fly away.

[quote=”Moby-Dick”]”Vengeance on a dumb brute!” cried Starbuck, ”that simply smote thee from blindest instinct! Madness! To be enraged with a dumb thing,

Captain Ahab, seems blasphemous.”[/quote]

I might have a beer or two sometime soon – possibly tonight, more probably tomorrow. It has been well over three months since I last drank an alcoholic drink, and I feel a hell of a lot better for it. Part of me still craves a tasty real ale of an evening, though, so as long as I keep it under control I suppose it’s okay. My break allowed me to establish one important thing, however: I noticed no difference in the severity or frequency of my absences compared with when I was drinking; they happened just as regularly – and in roughly the same patterns – irrespective of whether I’d had a beer recently or not. I just wanted that noted. Mind you, perhaps more importantly this period has taught me that I can leave alcohol alone if I want to, and that I feel a lot better when I do. A beer or two can be fun, but it can quickly turn into a problem, so the second I start getting silly again, it stops for another three months. One can lead to two, two to three, and before you know it I’m repeating the mistakes of the past, so I’ve asked Lyn to tell me if she thinks I’m starting to slip back in to old habits. For now, though, I’m looking forward to good real ale quite soon.

Dear Mr. CaMoron

Stop! Stop this now! You are not the man you think you are: You are not a great war leader, nor is the uk yours to play with. You are just a shabby little man, wealthy through accident of birth, now in a position of power that you neither deserve nor comprehend. You tonight intend to take us to war in order to merely satisfy your fantasy of being a great leader; a war against an enemy we created through previous such folly; an enemy which our bombs will multiply a thousand fold. Can you not see, sir, that you cannot use bombs or guns against an enemy like ISIS, as that would only martyr them, and help them recruit more angry young men to their nihilistic ranks? I doubt you can, or you wouldn’t have so arrogantly dismissed those who do as ‘terrorist sympathisers”. Thus, as you are incapable of seeing this obvious, self-evident folly, as you seem intent on placing us all in greater danger, you are utterly unfit to be prime minister, and I demand you stand aside.

I don’t know how useful it would be around the suburbs of South London, and getting it on to a bus might prove interesting, but the schoolboy in me wants one of these babies! It’s a tracked, 29 horsepower vehicle which you reverse your normal chair into. A safety bar then comes down in front of you. As reported here it goes over all terrain and has a top speed of 17mph. It was specifically designed for wheelchair users, particularly farmers who have become disabled and want to retain their way of life; but I can’t help but imagine how awesome it would be bombing around these streets in one.

A few days ago, I thought TIIROAC was under attack. I kept getting fairly nonsensical comments to my entries by someone calling themself Mr MA Dilbert. They commented quite frequently, and the comments they left were quite random; it was enough to make me think it was some sort of troll. While part of me thought I should be happy to get some comments for once, it was beginning to piss me off. Then suddenly on Saturday, I got a message from Mr. Diblbert over facebook, explaining who he was. He seemed a very nice fellow, for a Stokie, and I told him he could keep on commenting. Indeed, he has his own fascinating blog here

I’m just relieved I don’ have a troll.

I think I need to flag this delightful little film on bbc iplayer up. My parents recommended it during our weekly skype conversation his morning: it’s about a man whose business goes bust, so he has to relocate his family and reopen the fish and chip shop he used to run with his brothers. Thus it is a critique of big business and corporate greed. It also touches upon the Cyprus conflict, which gave it a bit of personal resonance. In fact it interestingly as a lot to say on quite a few contemporary issues. It has a happy ending, though, making it a great watch on a wet sunday afternoon.

There is really not that much I feel I can say about last night. Clarkson, May and Hammond Live was entertaining, but I can’t decide what to make of it. It was essentially a bit like watching an episode of Top Gear interspersed with other car-based acts. These were introduced by the three gentlemen of the title, and were, for the most part, very impressive indeed: there was a performance of precision driving which reminded me of the wheelchair displays that I did at school. Imagine four cars whizzing around the centre of the o2 arena at high speed, choreographed as precisely as any ballet. In between these performances, Clarkson, May and Hammond basically did the type of things they used to do on the tv – arse about like twits. The banter between them was amusing, although they made a few jibes at the bbc which got a few sympathetic boos from the audience; they also made a big thing of having to avoid saying anything offensive. There were no moments of epic greatness though; nothing that took the night to the level of, say, watching Mont Python Live. Of course, these shows were planned as Top Gear Live, before Clarkson’s fall-out with the beeb; I suppose events since it’s conception caused it to change it’s tone. Thus the show had an odd, kind of edgy tone to it – it felt like there was a kind of elephant in the room, something at which people were angry. I came out of the show entertained, yet with an odd taste in my mouth. It may have contained all the elements I expected, but that was not quite the show I bought tickets for all those months ago.

Ding dong, Shapps has gone;

Well, someone had to take the fall.

Bullying at tory HQ is rife,

But when some poor shmuck takes their life

The press will start to call.

***

The workings of Milbank are quite clear

”Old boys network, don’t you know?” They don’t like us to pry but when they start to die, one of them has to go.

***

It’s time we ended this cabal

This elitist party born to rule A party of bullies and toffs who look down at us and scoff

Let’s break up this group of fools.

Tonight will see me at the O2 again, this time to see Top Gear (sorry, Clarkson, May and Hammond) Live. I got the tickets ages ago, before Clarkson’s famous fallout with the beeb. To be honest I’m not sure what to expect: I’ve long been a fan of Top Gear, although some of the things those guys say, some of the attitudes they seem to hold, get to me. I expect the atmosphere there to be heavily masculine; one where physical prowess is valued and where politically-correct liberalism is frowned upon. How I will fit in to this world remains to be seen, but that’s part of what intrigues me. Part of me is worried that something will upset or anger me, that one of those guys will say something I disagree with or I’ll get the hump with the attitude in the audience; but it’ll probably just be good fun of the kind that appeals to the overgrown child in me. As usual, expect a full report on here tomorrow.

I have just rewritten/replaced this entry. In it I said things I had no right to; things which, had they been said about me or Lyn, would have made me furious. The issue had been playing on my mind for weeks, and needed putting to an end. The problem was, the entry aired my concerns over one specific individual, but which, if taken more generally, constituted transphobia. The similarities between what I wrote and outright transphobia like this were too strong for me to let it remain online. I was angry when I wrote that entry, but when will I learn that there are some things that I just shouldn’t write about on here?

Simple minds were great last night. I must admit, I didn’t know much of their music, but that didn’t matter – I still had a whale of a time. Lyn knew more than I did, and, sat next to me, it was obvious that she was thoroughly enjoying herself. It’s always great to go up to the dome; we’re so lucky to have such an awesome place virtually on our doorstep. Plus, given I keep dragging Lyn out to see stuff I want to see, it’s only fair I go to see the stuff that she likes. Not that I didn’t have a good time – by the end of the show I was really getting into it. To see them play eighties classics like Don’t you Forget About Me was very cool indeed. I must admit they weren’t a band tat was high on my ‘to see’ list, but I’m glad I went. I suppose that’s one advantage of being engaged to a musician. We got home about half eleven, both having had a great time, and looking forward to our next gig.

Lyn and I are going to a Simple Minds gig tonight, which we’re both really looking forward to. It’s at the O2, and no doubt it’ll pass without incident. However, I cant help thinking about events of a couple of weeks ago, and what happened at similar gigs in Paris. People there were, like we will be, just out having a good time. I just read that the Eagles of Death Metal, the band playing at the Bataclan that night, now wants to be the first band to play there when it reopens. To me, that’s awesome kind of like saying ”sorry for the interruption guys, where were we?” Although I had never heard of them before his atrocity, and know nothing of their music, I now really want to be at that gig*. Who wouldn’t? What better way is there of showing two fingers (or one, as they’re American) to murderous scum who inflict so much pain?

*Mind you, I don’t know that much about Simple Minds either; but Lyn wants to go, and that’s reason enough to go for me.

I’m sorry, but it’s vital that everyone stops what they’re doing a second, goes to Google and taps in ‘a long time ago in a galaxy far far away’ (sans the inverted commas). I’m hardly a Star Wars fan, but what I just saw was too awesome not to flag up on here. Mind you, I suspect it signifies the beginning of an all-out media barrage where Star wars is just about everywhere one looks.

As you might expect, I currently look for news of the new Star Trek series quite frequently. Every day or so, big trekkie that I am, I just punch it into Google to see if there’s anything new. Predictably, there’s not much to go on yet; the debate among most fans is over which universe it could be set in – the original which we all know and love, or the rebooted one began by JJ Abrams’ 2009 film. The question I find myself asking, though, is whether the new series could have a character with a disability in it. Back in 1966, the original series was revolutionary in having an African-American as a major character – Roddenberry’s future was one where race did not matter. I now wonder whether Trek could make a similarly powerful statement in terms of disability. Of course, TNG had Geordie Laforge, but his blindness was largely mitigated by his visor. Think what a statement could be made by having a starship piloted or even captained by a wheelchair user. Surely it could be just as powerful and resonant as having Nichelle Nichols on the bridge of the original Enterprise – it would send a huge message of acceptance and value. People will ask, of course, whether disability would exist in such a utopian future, but that is still seeing disability as something negative, a burden to be overcome rather than an aspect of human diversity. I like being who I am, Cerebral Palsy and all; and I would love to participate in a future where man explores the galaxy. Having a disabled person on the bridge of a starship would imply ‘we’ can contribute to the future as much as anyone else, and don’t need to be healed or fixed to do so. The question is, are the execs at Paramount ready to take that step?

I just came across this handy little video on BBC urdu’s youtube page explaining who, exactly, is fighting whom in Syria. The situation over there is far from simple, and I must admit that I don’t understand it. Who are all these groups, and why are some good and others bad? Aren’t they all equally bad. If we’re all fighting ISIS, why did Turkey down a Russian warplane this morning? Either that implies they think these ISIS have planes now, or they knew who they were firing upon. Putin seems to be playing at something – he knows what he’s doing, but what is his game? It’s a great big mess; although it’s two thousand miles away, with Putin seemingly using it to reestablish Russia as a world power, it seems to be getting more complex and more dangerous by the day.

At a time when we’re struggling to find the money to support people to live, why the fuck are we spending so much on weapons? All year, the tories have kept saying how little money there is, but when it comes to ‘defence’, suddenly we have billions to spend! And suddenly, it’s imperative we go fight ISIS, a bunch of thugs we helped create. And, coincidence of coincidences, most of the current cabinet have links to the army or weapons manufacturers! It makes me sick, too, how clearly CaMoron loves styling himself as a great war leader; a great Churchillian statesman born to rule. I see red every time that embarrassment to humanity appears on tv: he deserves to have been forgotten by now as a short-lived leader of the opposition, and we deserve better than to have a lying little warmonger leading us. He can spend billions on a socking great aircraft carrier intended only to kill people, but can’t find the money to support the poorest and most vulnerable people in our society. CaMoron and his mates sicken me.

I just saw a report on the bbc news saying the church of england is ‘bewildered’ that UK cinemas have refused to screen an advert featuring the lords prayer. They say it contravenes freedom of speech. Bullshit! I say: good on the cinema. The last thing we need right no is more religion; more indoctrination; more suppression of thought. Why should this group be allowed to use cinemas as a tool for spreading their worldview? Cinema-goes should not be told what to think – the cinema should be neutral. Thus for the church to claim it’s being discriminated against by not being allowed to screen this ad galls me: film encourages thought – religion does the very opposite. The bible-bashing zelaots want to hijack cinema, western culture’s foremost artform, and use it to indoctrinate people; I’m just glad the cinemas refused to be corrupted.

I just stumbled onto this story, and tears are welling up in my eyes. Since last friday, copies of Hemingway’s A Movable Feast have been selling like hot-cakes.

Papa’s love-letter to the eternal city captures the spirit of paris; it sums up what it was like to live there in the twenties. In a way I feel something similar about London, but Paris has an extra beauty to it, an extra poetry that stays with you. As Hemingway wrote, wherever you go later in life, if you have the good fortune to have lived in Paris as a young person, it’s spirit, it’s essence, stays with you. It has an essence which not even the nazis could destroy even though they tried, and no bomb-wielding thug could ever dent.

Suddenly I feel the urge to move: 486 to north Greenwich; Jubilee to london bridge, northern line to saint pancrass. The eurostar. I can be in Monmartre by late afternoon. It’s probably what hemingway would do, but I better not. Instead, I’ll go out into my own movable feast, living my own life, relishing my own freedom as Hemingway did. That, after all, is what was attacked last Friday: liberty, diversity and life, things which these islamists are said to hate yet which cities like london and paris nourish and thrive upon, and which hemingway captured so well in his writing.

Although it has a touch of ‘pity porn’ to it, not least in the choice of music, I think I’ll flag this short video up. It is by a student with cerebral palsy in the states, and much of what she says strikes a chord with me. She points out the frustrations of having a body which acts ten times slower than one’s mind, and of not being able to type as fast as one thinks. I can see some saying it’s riddled with self pity, but you could say it’s just honest. Although she says things like ”I see only the faintest light taunting me, glittering in the horizon, yet I am eager to ascend onto the bright pathway ahead despite the obstacles.” [puke!] nevertheless we need more of this sort of honesty; we need more people with cp to tell others what it’s like to have bodies like ours, as only then can they begin to understand.

What a troubled world, with all this death.

Newscasters spreading fear with every breath.

New threats seem to pop up every day,

”They’ll kill us all, if they had their way!”

A constant barrage of hate and fear,

Day on day, year on year.

Yet can we really tell how much is true?

We swallow what we’re fed, me and you;

How can we tell what lies between each line?

”Just accept what you’re told,” they imply, ”and you’ll be just fine.”

But we must be vigilant, constantly aware

The danger they claim, might not be there.

To keep us all afraid might be their goal;

Using terrorism as a tool to keep us under control.

To my sudden horror I just read that the prime minister now wants his own aeroplane. Of course my initial reaction was one of disgust: at a time of untold cuts and suffering, the tories want to spend £10m on their own personal jet. When you think about it though, in the long term, it would be cheaper than having to charter a plane every time the pm has to go abroad, so from that point of view this move might make sense. Not knowing the precise economics, my urge to rant has to be put on hold. However, economics aside, it certainly is indicative of the tory mentality: this really gives the lie to CaMorons ‘regular guy’ charade; he thinks he, as pm, deserves his own jet. There is an air of presumed superiority to this decision, as if he thinks his class of people should naturally have their own aircraft. Okay, it might be cheaper, but this decision still appalls me for the message it sends out and the mentality it reveals.

The thing about xenophobes is, they’re too dim to grasp irony. According to this Huffington post piece, a woman who set up a petition for the closure of uk borders actually lives in spain. Apparently, it’s ok for us brits to live overseas, but we don’t want any dirty foreigners coming over here stealing our jobs, houses and women. My jaw drops with the stupidity of it; it would be funny if it wasn’t so drenched in hate.

Morons on the right are, predictably, already trying to claim that Friday’s attack in paris validates their views. They say it is evidence of the failure of multiculturalism, blah blah blah (as if these dunderheads go on about anything else. I’d just like to flag up this response to such idiocy, analysing a speech Farage made today. It points out several things, most notably that the attackers were not immigrants but were born in france or belgium. Tighter border controls would have done nothing to prevent this tragedy. Thus scumbags like farage are using what happened on friday to further their own fucked up aims. Indeed, given that it is unlikely a terrorist would carry a passport, ”It’s possible – likely even – that the passport is a propaganda device meant to trigger exactly the response from Ukip which Farage delivered last night.” Someone could easily have planted that document – possibly a member of front national, intending to use this incident to whip up hatred. Whether they did or did not, though, it appalls me to see how opportunistic embarrassments to humanity like farage are: it has barely been three days and people are still in deep mourning, and he tries to distort facts to suit his own aims. Such opportunism, cynicism and barefaced lying surely has no place in modern political discourse.

For yet more evidence of the damage the tories are doing and the suffering they are causing, click here. ”Almost 600 ‘additional’ suicides could be related to the Government’s Work Capability Assessments, according to research published today. A study in the Journal of Epidemiology and Community Health claims the areas of England with the greatest use of the assessments has also seen the sharpest rise in reported suicides, mental health issues, and antidepressant prescribing.” Of course, the p’tahks at the DWP deny any responsibility for this suffering, any link between tory cuts and these suicides. But the evidence is plain and growing: the tories don’t give a toss who suffers due to the cuts – we plebs brought it upon ourselves through our sloth; as long as he people who matter – the rich – are happy, that’s all they care about. Theirs is an absolutely sickening worldview, and those who hold it have no right to rule a country.

Isn’t it odd that, amid all the carnage of Paris, the authorities just happen to find a passport which they somehow know belonged to one of the attackers? And isn’t it odd that, in a time of savage cuts to every other public department, the Tories find the cash for a massive boost to security services? I try to be cautious when it comes to conspiracy theories; they are often huge accusations, and huge accusations require huge amounts of evidence. I also think it’s too easy to make such theories up, and that people will do so whatever happens. Take, for instance, the world trade centre: people cite the fact they collapsed as they dd as evidence the attacks were an inside job. But had they stayed up and not fallen, the same people would probably now be claiming that the fact the did not collapse as evidence of a conspiracy. (”How convenient” they would now be saying, sarcastically. ”They were too important to loose altogether!”) Yet in the case of paris, there are one or two facts which, at the moment, don’t stack up. The timing is also perfect – we were due one of our regular shots of fear and paranoia; I daresay the arms manufacturers and generals were starting to pester. I realise a lot of people died in this sickening act, but one or two thing about it strike me as odd.