Skunk: A person regarded as obnoxious or despicable.

Sir Fred has been shredded.

But it was done with considerable input from a political lynch mob, and as a symbol of the banksters (= banker + gangsters), and I’m left with more questions than answers.

Was it a correct decision, and was it made on a correct basis, and should it apply to Peers as well as Knights, and where should we draw the lines, if any?

Let me try a few examples.

Should Sir Richard Branson have his Knighthood quashed because he launched his career with a significant Purchase Tax fraud, for which he was never charged.

Does it make much difference that he’s raised significant charitable funds, in addition to his own profile, since, and built a major business?

Should Lord Hanningfield be expelled for having been locked up for 9 months for False Accounting?

What about Lord Paul, who overclaimed £38,000 but paid it back?

What about non-financial offenders, such as  Lord Bell, who masturbated (without any requests, it should be noted) to several women through his bathroom window in Hampstead in 1977, and was convicted of indecency?

Or Baroness Uddin, who lied about her circumstances, but was found guilty by the House of Lords Privileges and Conduct Committee, rather than by a Court of Law? Her intention was to return to the Lords, so that her fiddled expenses would be paid off from more expenses claimed from the taxpayer.

Should former Ministers, who have been found to have fiddled significant sums, be prevented from receiving the traditional Life Peerage which comes up with the rations for Cabinet  Expenses?

Jacqui Smith, for example, admitted on Question Time that she had disgraced herself with her excessive claims for £116,000, and stated that she would be unlikely to go to the Lords.

And what about more trivial offences? Should shoplifting have cost Antony Worrall-Thompson a Knighthood if he had one?

Alistair Darling that we need a process, and one outside rough and tumble politics, to the risk of this becoming a method of political assassination of opponents:

“I’m not here to defend Sir Fred… I just think we’re getting into awful trouble here if we go after people on a whim and we don’t have a clear set of principles against which we can judge people, it’s not right.”

But where do we draw the lines and how do we define the principles?

If things stay as they are in the Lords, my poster child for expulsion from the Peerage is none of the above, but Michael Martin, Baron Martin of Springburn.

To my eye Martin’s most serious offences are not his own highly questionable expenses, nor his attacks on individual MPs, nor that he behaved as a bastard child of Captain Mainwaring and Compo.

His most serious offence was to facilitate corruption of the processes within Parliament, from his vigorous defence of the ability of MPs to hide their expenses, to his allowing officials to shred receipts for MP Expenses from 2001 to 2004 while High Court action about access to Expenses Receipts was in full swing.

Looking through the list above, I don’t care about Knighthoods, and I’m tempted to suggest a scorched earth solution to the Lords.

Or should we solve it by starting from scratch with an elected Lords, so that the whole apparatus of determining acceptability can be swept away.

Which would allow crooks can be elected to the Lords on the same basis that they can currently be elected to the Commons.

Hmmm.

Skunk as a Lord? is a post from: Anna Raccoon

So bus drivers aren’t allowed to be friendly any more. That seems to be my impression of the news that Brighton and Hove‘s bus drivers have been banned from uttering friendly greetings. Not just told to only say such words to their regular customers or to their friends, but actually banned. It is now verboten to say words the words love, babe or darling on a bus. What hasn’t been mentioned is what the result of uttering such words is. Is it a verbal reprimand, a written warning or the sack. Seeing how other companies run by faceless bureaucrats act I wouldn’t be surprised if is the last case.

Considering that normally bus drivers are a surly lot, to have a driver greet you in a friendly manner is a nice thing to have. Not something to push down and extinguish.

But how has it come about? Have loads of people being continually complaining about the friendly attitudes of Bright and Hove’s bus drivers and how it upsets and offends them that they are treated as people rather than cattle on the bus. No. It’s a very simple reason. One person complained. Yep, one. 1. Uno. yksi. один. This one person of the female persuasion felt so offended by being treated nicely that she actually took pen to paper (or more likely email) and took the effort to write to the company to complain. She considered that being called something other than “madam” is being sexist and demeaning.

But is the person wrong for doing so. No. For anyone who has worked in a customer facing role it’s not surprising that you might get a few odd customers with strange complaints or requests. For anyone who has spent any time in a customer facing role you would normally filter out such occasions.

So who is wrong to impose this draconian rule? The customer service department at B&H bus company and the HR department for taking the suggestion from their colleagues at face value.

Way to go Brighton and Hove bus company for creating a lot of bad publicity for yourselves.

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But how about you lot. Which terms of greeting do you use? And are you offended in the slightest by them if you are on the receiving end?

How do pet! is a post from: Anna Raccoon

I truly detest television at Christmas. Most of the year I find it merely worthless and annoying, but at Christmas with all its faux bonhomie and general shut down and when there is not much else to do I truly do detest it. It is like white noise. It invariably fails to deliver anything of quality. Even the usually affable Top Gear was a bit too contrived this year, and failed to hold my attention.

There was only one “Mention in Despatches,” and only two “Orders of Merit” this year. The Mention in Despatches goes to Gillian Anderson, the striking, slightly eccentric former star of the X Files (how she must hate that; I apologise, Ms Anderson, if you ever read it) for her star turn as Miss Faversham in the BBC’s adaptation of Charles Dickens “Great Expectations”. Edgy, damaged, dramatic, psychotic – and her acting was good as well.

The two Orders of Merit are awarded as follows. The first goes to an old favourite. Once again a classic tale originally penned by Charles Dickens. A well known morality tale based around Christmas itself.  At times dark and gruelling, almost brutal. At times hilarious.  A story of greed, and of redemption of the human spirit, beautifully acted by an all star cast. You guessed it…

“A Muppet Christmas Carol”. No really, it’s fantastic! It makes even a cynic like me grin and laugh out loud. Michael Caine as Scrooge in his finest role since The Italian Job, too.

The second Order of Merit goes to a show which prompts the title of this piece.

“Sherlock: a Scandal in Belgravia” rocked. It tore up the screen for an hour and a half plus and the time simply flew by.

I found the original series of “Sherlock” a bit problematic. For those who don’t know (and our noble editor may be one such, since she abides in France and maybe cannot see the BBC iPlayer) the show was created and written by Steven Moffat, who also writes many of the new Dr Who Episodes, and Mark Gatiss, who was one of the bizarre, dark but funny “League of Gentlemen” company and who also stars as Sherlock’s sinister older brother Mycroft.

Both are enormous fans of Holmes and know the original very well. They present a very 21^st Century Holmes, quite at home with e-mail and twitter and mobile phones, brilliant, cold, a thinking computer who has no regard for manners or any one else at all most of the time,  accompanied by Dr Watson, who having been injured in Afghanistan, blogs about their exploits.

The style is quick fire, witty, “metrosexual” and arch. There is a touch of the “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon” about some of the visual stunts. Whilst Series One was very good, I had my doubts. I found it a bit too arch, a bit too knowing, and a bit too self satisfied. There were only three episodes but they were full length and high quality.

But I have to say the “Scandal in Belgravia” episode raised the standard even higher. It ripped the screen up. It kicked off where the last season ended, with the duo of Homes and Watson seemingly in the hands of a truly venomous “Jim” Moriarty (I don’t know who that actor is but he is a star in the making). It then introduces had one of the sexiest villainesses ever in the shape of Irene Adler, cleverly and rather daringly for the time of night re-invented as a bi-sexual professional society dominatrix and spy, brilliantly carried off by actress Lara Pulver.

When the arrogant Holmes arrives to – as he assumes – easily recover some embarrassing photographs, she meets him dressed in her finest “battle dress”; naked apart from pearls, make up and blood red lipstick. The pair then fight, flirt, yearn and romance (or do they?) through a rollercoaster but yet compelling plot of hide and seek, bluff and counterbluff, deduction and counter deduction. Do they love each other? Is she in fact even devoid of emotion more than Holmes? Is Holmes an emotional ingénue in her seductive grasp? Why is there an aeroplane full of dead people?

I can do this programme no greater compliment to say that towards the end I was welling up, and right at the very the end I gave a little cheer. If you have seen it you will know why. If you haven’t yet, I am saying nothing.

It still has its problems but for wit, speed of thought, acting and scope thought it was very, very good indeed.

Which leads me to my question. What is the greatest British mini series? This is difficult because you first have to decide what a “mini series is”. It clearly cannot be just a regular TV programme. It has to be not too short, but too long. Perhaps it has to be one tale, over several episodes. And it should be the translation of a book.

The present Sherlock just qualifies because they are clearly not trying to have a weekly slot. The fabulous Jeremy Brett was in my opinion the definitive “real” Sherlock back in the 80′s, and he did that, filming the whole canon. But that was not a mini series.

Neither could “Callan”, a brilliant and dark series from the early 70′s starring Edward Woodward as a chilling but down on his luck tough guy working for the Secret Services. Not a book, a series. Similarly the brilliant “Ashes to Ashes”.

I can’t do a top 10, but these are my top 6

No. 6: “Sherlock”.

Smart, intelligent, sexy, very well done. Twitter went ballistic over the last episode. The girls over Sherlock (Benedict Cumberbatch). The guys AND quite a few of the girls over Irene Adler (Pulver).

No.5: “The Forsyte Saga”.

The award winning drama adapted from John Galsworthy’s epic novel. Eric Porter, Nyree Dawn Porter, Susan Hampshire, Kenneth York…..What MORE can there be!?   Oh, Kenneth Moore…

No.4: “Band of Brothers”.

Stephen Spielberg’s acclaimed tribute to the true story of Easy Company, from before D Day to victory in Germany. Being about the 101^st Airborne, naturally what made it was the British acting, in particular ex-Etonian Damian Lewis as Lieutenant, later Major Dick Winters. Moving. And taken from a book, by the way.

No.3: “I, Claudius”.

Wobbly card board sets could not detract from the immense stature and drama of Robert Graves’ tale of power, lust, murder, incest and betrayal amongst the Julian clan. Derek Jacobi’s finest hour as the st..st…stuttering Claudius who is assumed to be a fool but is, of course, the wisest Caesar of all, but the rest of the cast, especially John Hurt as the utterly insane Caligula, is simply superb.

No.2: “Pride and Prejudice” (1995)

The story of Elizabeth Bennett and Mr Darcy is always being remade, but this 1995 version is the definitive version in my view. Colin Firth broods and smoulders as the seemingly haughty and inflexible Darcy, the stunning Jennifer Ehle glitters as the brilliant, intellectual but-actually-much- more-beautiful-than-you-first-notice Elizabeth. Julia Sawalha and Alison Steadman are the sister and mother from hell. This version sent the country wild, to the point where women went hysterical when Darcy jumped in a lake. There was “Darcy Mania”. I heard nothing about anything from the women in the office but wet shirts and breeches for weeks.  Of course, it may have helped the chemistry between the lead actor and actress that they were actually banging the arse off each other in real life….And for a reminder of that chemistry click here…

The series has now been digitally re-mastered and is available for about £5. I watched it twice over Christmas. I love this series. I love Elizabeth Bennett. Or Jennifer Ehle. I am not sure which. But sorry, Lizzie, you don’t quite win.  The clear winner is….

No. 1: “Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy”

The plot, screenplay and acting in this superb series raise it head and shoulders above all others. It has been re-issued on the back of the cinematic remake, and again I bought it for £5 from TESCO.  It is perhaps the darkest, best written, and most compelling piece of television I have ever seen. It captures the drab, failing Britain of the 70′s perfectly and against this plays out a drama of Shakespearian proportions. It perfectly portrays the nasty world of petty office politics and Whitehall, weaves in a fantastic whodunit and catches a time of Cold War, danger and betrayal which were very true to life before the final collapse of the Soviet Empire. The acting from everyone involved is brilliant. From Sir Alec Guiness (as he became soon after) it is beyond brilliant. As the gentle, cuckolded and yet ultimately ruthless George Smiley, it is career defining.

Have I missed anything? Are they in the right order? You decide.

By Randy Hack, special sports, media and arts correspondent

What was the best ever British made mini series? is a post from: Anna Raccoon

Penning the recent review of the year argument I was prompted to reflect on the death of the late Christopher Hitchens.

Polemicist, wit, writer, commentator and orator, he was a free and independent thinker when conforming to the (usually politically correct) script and staying “on message” is the norm. He also appears to have been a bit of a bon viveur in an age in which the threat of the Health Nazis looms – although this may have contributed to his untimely demise.

One of Hitchens’ best known works is of course his tract against religion “God Is Not Great – How Religion Poisons Everything”.

In this he attacks religion as a powerful regressive influence based on superstition and prejudice, promoting ignorance, tribalism and repression.

In his disdain for religion Hitchens is outdone only by Professor Richard Dawkins, whose position can be summarised in this quick crib from Wikipedia:

“Dawkins is an atheist, a Vice President of the British Humanist Association, and a supporter of the Brights movement. He is well known for his criticism of creationism and intelligent design. In his 1986 book The Blind Watchmaker, he argued against the watchmaker analogy, an argument for the existence of a supernatural creator based upon the complexity of living organisms. Instead, he described evolutionary processes as analogous to a blind watchmaker. He has since written several popular science books, and makes regular television and radio appearances, predominantly discussing these topics. In his 2006 book The God Delusion, Dawkins contends that a supernatural creator almost certainly does not exist and that religious faith is a delusion—a fixed false belief. As of January 2010 the English-language version has sold more than two million copies and had been translated into 31 languages.”

The thing that I always find ironic about Professor Dawkins when I hear him speak is his almost Messianic zeal about atheism. And whenever I consider the works of Dawkins and Hitchens on this topic I cannot help but be reminded with great affection of Douglas Adam’s “Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy”.

You may remember that apart from the fact that he had God disappearing in a puff of his own logic, he was also had Him being given a bit of a kicking by the celebrated “philosopher” Oolon Collophid who wrote the popular “quadrilogy” “Where God Went Wrong”, “More Of God’s Greatest Mistakes”, “Just Who Is This God Person Anyway”, and last but not least “Well, That Just Wraps It Up For God”.

Which is not to say that I dismiss the works and position of Dawkins and Hitchens. Notwithstanding my monkish persona I think they pretty much hit a real nail on the head. One only has to flick through a history book to find page after page of war, murder, repression and torture, all in the name of whether “God” wants his “wizards” to wear a blue gown or a red gown, a pointy hat or a round hat or no hat at all, or eat pork or not eat pork. One only has to flick on the television to see that the greatest threat to the future of humanity comes not from global warming, but from fanaticism based on creed which has the inevitable effect depriving “the believer” of any sense of compassion for their fellow man. After all, what can be wrong about promoting the Will of God as it has been revealed? The ends must justify the means. The Unbeliever must be slain.

And yet I believe in God. What do I mean? This is tricky. It is very hard to define. Now when I was going through my logical positive phase I seem to remember the general proposition being that if you could not define something or test for its existence it could not be said to exist.

To which the romantic might with some justification say: define “love” and prove it. And no doubt Dawkins would reply that it is an aspect of evolutionary behaviour hardwired into us to promote the species as a whole.

Perhaps…

I do not believe in a God who is a man with a beard, or even a woman with harp. Indeed I am not sure I believe in a God who takes any particular interest in what we call good or bad at all. I read in the papers this morning that Tony Blair is to be paid some £8,000,000 to advise the brutish ruler of some far flung Asian “Stan” on social policy. In a world in which so many struggle there can be no greater illustration of the moral ambiguity, or indeed neutrality, of “God”.

What then do I mean? Consider it this way. On a practical level we life in a world of Newtonian physics and cause and effect. If you want to move a big rock, you can pray that it moves, in which case nothing will much happen. Or you can construct a lever and in a display of mathematics put into physical reality, shift it with some hard work. Cause and effect, action and reaction.

And yet as science develops and probes into the quantum level, quite different theories as to the workings of the Universe begin to appear.

I have a limited understanding of quantum physics, but my understanding is the two systems – Newtonian and quantum – are somewhat incompatible, and neither properly or fully explains the physic of the Universe. Indeed, an important aspect of quantum physics is that perception changes the condition of the perceived. One of the founders of this branch of science was Nobel Prize winning scientist Max Planck.

Planck himself ultimately reached as somewhat radical position as a result of his study:

“All matter originates and exists only by virtue of a force which brings the particle of an atom to vibration and holds this most minute solar system of the atom together. We must assume behind this force the existence of a conscious and intelligent mind. This mind is the matrix of all matter.”

In short, the Universe is not a mere mathematical accident. And it is not made up of matter at all. It is made up of thought expressed as what we perceive as matter.

I prefer to think of God as the endlessly growing, expanding product of some quite unfathomable Infinite Intelligence, endlessly growing, experimenting, and learning as we all do. Expressing itself through evolution, for example. Not really bothered about what robes those who worship “God” are, or whether we eat pork or not. Not really bothered if it is the hunter or the hunted. An endless experiment of imagination expressed through all of what we perceive.

Indeed, I have the suspicion that the Universe is teeming with life of all forms weird and wonderful, it is just the vastness of space that make it seem that we are alone. But that is another matter…

The great F. Scott Fitzgerald once observed something to the effect that the mark of a first class mind is to be able to hold two inconsistent thoughts at once and see the truth of both. I suggest that the same may be said of belief in God. Dawkins and Hitchens are quite right. And yet the Universe is an infinite expression of a thinking thing. A dream machine. Possibly even a dream machine which reacts to what thought is brought to it, right or wrong. Which has implications…

I have heard it said that the concept of God is useless because mankind is a finite being and the contemplation of what is by definition infinite is impossible. To take an example it is like asking a fish that lives at the bottom of the Ocean to contemplate a sunrise.

This fish will continue to dream…

Gildas the Monk

Hitchens and Dawkins are completely right. Except that they are completely wrong… is a post from: Anna Raccoon

Vincent Tabak is now behind bars for murder, rather than for manslaughter. That is important. It does not bring back his victim, Joanna Yeates, and it will not end her family’s suffering. Indeed the vile Tabak put them through hell by forcing the family to endure the trial. That must have been an appalling ordeal for them.

I might add that I have had the misfortune to meet and deal with the odd sociopath in my time, and Tabak‘s manipulations, self pity and denials strike me as marking him out as a classic of the type.

But it was important that he be found guilty of murder. Whilst his conviction for murder will not ease the loss of her family, boyfriend and friends, it was important because his guilty plea for mere manslaughter would have made their suffering worse. A grave injustice would have been done. I can faithfully promise from direct experience that I would rather not reveal that the sense of injustice after a trial when the full facts do not come out, and a malefactor is not exposed, is rather horrible.

Tabak was convicted of murder, rather than manslaughter by a 10:2 majority verdict. The Crown just got home. But immediately in the aftermath of the trial it was revealed that important evidence had not been put before the jury. Specifically, that he was involved in the serial use of prostitutes and, much more importantly in my view, that he had been watching pornography in which women were throttled by men. I have seen different reports about when: according to some it was only after the murder; according to The Sunday Times today, it was both before and after.

I was disturbed to hear that the jury had not been told. I confess I am not an expert in criminal procedure, but I have a sort of working knowledge. Here is why they were not told, as understand it.

In criminal proceedings there are strict rules about what might be called the “probative value” of evidence. This is for good reason. For example, if a man is charged with theft then the fact that he has a long history of convictions for theft or other offences of dishonesty will be withheld from the jury unless he protests that he is a decent citizen with no stain on his character. The reason being that the mere fact that someone has been a bad person in the past does not mean that he guilty. Each person is entitled to be tried on the facts and evidence, not on his reputation.

There is a particular exception where there is compelling “similar fact” evidence. In this situation, if a man or (or woman) has previously been convicted of a series of crimes which bear a remarkable and distinctive signature, that may be admitted as evidence. Here the probative value outweighs the risk of injustice. To take a dramatic but realistic example, if a man is accused of murder in which the victim has been mutilated in a particular and distinctive way the fact that he has already been convicted of crimes using the same method will be allowed. Since Tabak had not been convicted of a previous offence, that did not apply.

With these two points in mind, I will venture that I can tell you exactly why the Judge (Mr Justice Field) excluded the evidence of Tabak’s activities in prostitutes and porn from the jury. This is why: he wanted Tabak convicted of murder, and he did not want an appeal. He took a long, hard, cool look at the evidence and the risks that Tabak’s lawyers would be able to claim that he had not been given a fair trial if that evidence was admitted. Like a poker player in a high steaks game, he made “the call”. The “call” being that the jury would convict anyway. I suspect he would have made a different call if there had been less evidence.

He just got away with it.

My point is that no “call” should have to have been made. I think there are too many lawyers’ games going on here. I would prefer to trust the jury. If I had been on that jury I would have found the fact that he used prostitutes informative, but in no way conclusive. I would have found the interest in sadistic porn of that nature extremely informative, whether it was before or after the event.

We have too many rules of evidence. Lawyers will argue that the fact that a man has 20 convictions for theft does not mean that he has committed this crime. I agree, but is a factor the jury should know and weigh in the balance.

Juries should be allowed to know the whole picture. Either we trust the juries or we don’t.

But they got it right in this case.

Gildas the Monk

Too much law, too little evidence? is a post from: Anna Raccoon

A few weeks ago I wrote an inconsequential piece about a strange experience in which I underwent a so called “peak” experience. My conclusion was that this was a real phenomenon which was created by a potent mix of exercise, joy, excitement and being in a natural environment which created a flood of endorphins and adrenalin. Therefore this “spiritual event” had a purely rational explanation.

I hinted at a follow up which had a less rational explanation.

I have been very nervous about putting one forward, because this piece may well get me sectioned as a fully paid up, card carrying, nut job. I will take the risk.

One evening, some years ago when I was in my early thirties, I was feeling a bit low. I had let someone down over some small thing and felt down and generally a bit tired. As was my wont I attended the local pub in the evening, and had a two or three pints (of beer not scotch). Nothing heavy.

I was walking back home still feeling a bit low and down on myself when suddenly “it” happened.

What “it” was a voice inside my head. That is a very strange thing to happen, at least for me. And it does not quite do the experience justice. It was a voice which seemed to speak directly to my consciousness. It was very clear, very calm, very precise, and it said the same short thing twice:

“You can have anything you want. You can have anything you want.”

And then –

Nothing. No sound of an angel flapping its wings as it flew away. No sound of Heaven’s door snapping shut. Rather unhelpfully (as I have often reflected afterwards), there was no explanation or instruction as to how this rather wonderful news might be carried into effect.

I remember one extra detail however, that may be significant. I was for the rest of the evening quite energised, as though I had a burst of adrenalin fuelled energy. Indeed, I found it hard to sleep because I felt slightly “electrified”.

Since then life has been the usual roller-coaster ride of ups with some quite sharp lows. I have not developed the power to fly, walk on water or turn water into wine. I have not been showered with wealth (far from it) and have generally messed up in various degrees both personal and professional life.

What then, was this strange phenomenon? Was the” message” simply a delusion?

It seems to me that there are four explanations.

One is that I am making it up. I ask you to reject that as irrational because I have nothing to gain and risk ridicule. Also, I don’t see what my point would be.

The next is that I suffered from some temporary insanity or was perhaps drunk. In short I imagined it. I have set out my alcohol intake faithfully and I don’t feel it was a cause. But why temporary insanity? And what provoked it? Just being a bit gloomy?

The third (perhaps developing the second) is that this was the product of my subconscious mind acting in some was to “kick start” my enthusiasm when I was feeling a bit low, or some such. Okay, more substance to that one I agree. All I can say is that it did not feel like that.

There is a fourth explanation, which is that there is a great deal more to the reality that we experience than might at first meet the eye and the relationship between our thoughts and what I will call in neutral terms “The Universe”.

I have often reflected on this message. I have read widely on matters esoteric, and not so esoteric. I think that I am not alone in experiencing some sort of moment of incredible insight. In the seminal work “Cosmic Consciousness” written in 1900, the psychiatrist Richard Bucke (who greatly influenced Jung, I believe) examined and theorized about the potential for a higher consciousness. As I recall, he suggested that many of those whom he takes as case studies for exhibiting this higher form of thought have some momentary intense insight which typically takes place in their early to mid thirties, just as I was.

However, in my own case I can hardly report that I feel I achieved a genuine “Higher Order of Consciousness”. In fact, I have often been rather stupid.

What then do I make of this phenomenon? Frankly, I think that it was a “real” experience and that it simply set out a fundamental truth which it was for me to make as much or as little of as I thought fit, although the agency of this message is rather perplexing. A truth which for some unfathomable reason what I call “The Universe” (put whatever name you want on it) prefers to be introduced indirectly. As in this well known poem:

I bargained with Life for a penny,
And Life would pay no more,
However I begged at evening
When I counted my scanty store;
For Life is a just employer,
He gives you what you ask,
But once you have set the wages,
Why, you must bear the task.
I worked for a menial’s hire,
Only to learn, dismayed,
That any wage I had asked of Life,
Life would have willingly paid.

Make of it what you will.

Gildas the Monk

(Photo Credit: Mad Monk)

How To Be Sectioned, Part 2 is a post from: Anna Raccoon

I understand from the MSM that hundreds of people have been leaving a Royal Shakespeare Company‘s show early, during the interval in fact. When you hear of people leaving the theatre early you naturally come the logical conclusion that the play must be crap.

The MSM seem to think that it’s because the play is shocking, contains utter filth and depravity, scenes of water boarding  and features a simulated sodomy. In these times when the execution of a leader of a country is shown in all it’s colourful glory it should be surprising that people are still upset by scenes of torture.

The papers make out that people have been going to the show without any knowledge of it’s content. The fact that the RSC sent out letters with all tickets indicating the graphic nature of the show is ignored. As is the fact that in going to see a play with references to the Marquis de Sade it is quite likely that you will see scenes of torture and other horrible stuff. Are theatre goers these days so uneducated that they haven’t heard of him, or even attempted to look him up before going to see the show. I doubt it.

The play was originally performed in 1963 before being translated from German with a run at the Aldwych Theatre in 1964 which starred Glenda Jackson. There was even a film version of it made in 1967 which included Jackson too. Even then it had critical reviews but came to be seen as a seminal production. I don’t know if there were reports of walk outs during the interval in it’s original showing but it likely there were. But then that was a time when UK society was changing as it recovered from the world wars and such shocking scenes were all new. The musical Hair was just as controversial at that time, now it’s just another play.

What could be happening is that people are just finding the show plain shite and walking out. Yes it’s probably because the show has scenes of torture, but more likely it’s because of the over the top nature of the rape and sodomy to the detriment of the story line. The overkill of the torture being there in an attempt to gain publicity.

But then when you have a newspaper to sell and you want to sell lots of copy and get lots of publicity for your paper you have to be controversial.

Marat/Sade is a post from: Anna Raccoon

Prompted by a post by LongRider about safe limits and drinking and driving I started thinking about his idea that there shouldn’t be a law against drinking and driving as the laws of murder and manslaughter and GBH etc. should cover the injuries and fatalities caused by drunk drivers.

The powers that be don’t trust the population to think for themselves and see laws as ways in which to tell people what is and what is not acceptable. Laws change society is their viewpoint. They believe that no one has any brain cells of note (possibly true after drinking way too much) and by having a law automatically means that the no one will drink and drive. Well the continuation of people drinking and driving has just shot that argument down.

So should there be a law against drinking and driving or should other laws covering the harming of one person by another be sufficient. Should there be a law indicating a level at which it is safe to drink at or should the law say that there is no safe level and there should always be zero levels of alcohol in the blood of a driver.

In the former case this means that people who can’t hold their drink could drink past their body’s tolerance level because the law says they can (or am I falling into the same hole as politicians and thinking the people are stupid and can’t make decisions themselves). This is just like people who drive at the legal limit of 30mph even though the road conditions and environment mean that a speed of 20mph is more appropriate.

The later case of a zero alcohol level means that having had a few drinks the night before means that there is a non-zero level of alcohol in the blood. Not forgetting including diabetics and the odd person who has ethanol in the blood for eating potatoes being caught by this version of the law.

Alternatively there could be a law which states that having alcohol in your blood when you cause an accident and harm someone else increases the punishment and your time in jail. So rather than base a law on trying to stop accidents from happening, make a law that accepts that people are intelligent and can make decisions for themselves. So if they are regular drinkers and can handle a couple of pints with no degradation in their driving ability and don’t cause any accidents then they should be allowed to carry on doing so. Likewise a person who hardly ever drinks and has a couple of pints and ends up staggering all over the place should not be allowed to drive. It’s the intent that is important.

But does ignoring the driver who has a couple of pints lead to the case where society thinks it’s acceptable to drink and drive. Well no. Society makes the decision itself. If a society thinks it acceptable that a few accidents happen so that a people can drive to their pub and have a few drinks then that is that society’s decision. Victims of such accidents can make their case heard and change their society if it becomes a problem. But does it have to be politicians creating new laws or can it be society changing its own ways. In the past society initially accepted high levels of accidents in the work place as a cost of working, but over time, and through unions and better mechanisation and efficiency, changed it’s view to lowering the levels of accidents.

An alternative viewpoint in allowing a certain level of fatalities as acceptable is that no victim’s life is worth that of allowing someone else a bit of pleasure. But again that is that society’s decision to stop any form of pleasure which has any risk of injury or death. Taking it away from the drink driving example for a second, is the life of a boxer worth it in allowing the audience the pleasure of watching a competition between two people?

It could be said that rather than having one monopolistic society it is better to have many different societies so that people can move to and live in the society they like without forcing their lifestyle on the rest of their original society.

Does creating new laws suddenly change society? Not really. Racial hatred was made illegal but it still carries on. Yes it has lessened, but is that due to society changing as more racial mixing takes place or due to people slowly taking note of the law? The problem of separating correlation and causation. What about homosexuality? That was made illegal but there is still homophobia in existence. Making it legal hasn’t changed society’s acceptance of it. What it has done is removed the state’s control of what people do in private. It would be better still that there wasn’t a law allowing homosexuality to be legal – in other words no law about homosexuality at all, for or against.

So should laws exist? Should new laws be created to change society? Should laws be created to right previous wrongs?

Whenever a new technology comes into existence politicians always think that new laws need to cover it. When society changes politicians always think that new laws are needed to cope. However when you look at actual human behaviour you’ll find that there hasn’t been much real change over the last 5000 years. Laws that were created 5000 years ago are still valid today and can cover just about all existing forms of human behaviour. Yes there are exceptions, but that’s the point. They are exceptions. Only a few new laws are needed to cover some differences from life 5000 years ago. Not 3000 every 9 years.

SBML

Photo by smlp.co.uk

Why create new law is a post from: Anna Raccoon

Why do people get so precious about random objects and desire them to exit forever?

Or in other words, I’m going to write about two seemingly totally separate cases but which have the common theme of not wanting to get rid of something that has been around for a number of years. So long in fact that they can’t imagine a time without the object.

Pony Tail

In one case the object is a pony tail. In the other a tree. In both cases people are up in arms about their destruction.

In the case of the pony tail, a young boy who has just started at a school has been told that his pony tail is against the rules of the school. His father has made a big case out of it claiming that his son’s human rights are being violated.

In the case of the pony tail, the young lad had worn it since the age of 4. Other than saying a looks a bit weird there is nothing wrong for a kid to like a particular hair style.

But when the boy goes to school, a school chosen by his parents who knew of the rules and regulations set out by the school, he should follow those rules. If they didn’t like the rule about the hair style, they should have chosen a different school. If no other school could be chosen, then tough – life is not fair and learn that lesson early. It’s not like the school changed the rules half way through they year where he might have a case, a very slight case and nothing to do with human rights, and even then the boy would still end up having to conform to the school rules.

Kids always have weird desires, though usually they grow out of them pretty quickly. That’s the point, kids change their minds often. One day they want to be a nurse, the next day a vet, then an astronaut. So it’s surprising that the boy wore his pony tail for so long, but if he cut it off would it be the end of the world. Not really. Even though at the moment he probably can’t think of his life without it, within weeks of losing it he probably won’t think twice about it. If he is so committed to the pony tail he can still grow it back after leaving school.

I used to have a beard for 15 years. My wife didn’t like it so I shaved it off. Am I a different person because of it. Has it changed my personality. Has it made me a weakling like Samson. None of the above. All it means is that I have to shave every day rather than trim once a week.

Tree

The second case is that of a large tree. The tree is next to a property, seen here in this Google StreetView, and overshadows it and it’s roots are pretty close the foundations to a garage and could affect the property’s drains. So the property owners put in an application to the council to have it chopped down. The council initially disagreed with them and placed a Tree Preservation Order on it after a number of villagers petitioned to have it kept. But after expert advice, and possibly after being told that the council might be liable to pay compensation if the tree actually caused damage to the property, the council changed their mind and allowed it to be cut down.

The villagers put in more petitions and took the council to court a number of times to try and stop the tree from being chopped down. The repeat visits to court have cost the council hundreds of thousands of pounds as they defended their position. The fact that the council was taken to court a number of times indicates that each time the villagers lost their court case. But still they fight to save the tree.

This tree was so special to the villagers that a man has climbed into it and refused to come down until the council promise not to cut it down.

But why is it so special. Does it have some historic meaning. Is it photogenic and therefore does it attract visitors to the village. Is it a special species which is very rare. Does it support a population of special insects. Should all trees be kept no matter what. Nope, none of the above. Its just a tree that has been in the village for a few generations so everyone alive has known it to exist and can’t think of it not being around. But within months of the tree being chopped down, most villagers will probably not have another thought about it.

The claim is that once the tree is chopped down it will be gone forever. Well trees die of old age. What happens then? It will still be gone forever. But new trees can be planted. And such trees will grow and over time will become huge specimens again. Not exactly the same tree, but still a tree. A bit like Trigger’s brush in Only Fools and Horses. The shaft and brush were changed a number of times but it was still Trigger’s brush. The same with a tree. A new tree can be planted, and within a decade or two it will be seen as a tree that has always been there and a time when it didn’t exist would be hard to remember.

Attachment theory

So why were these people so tied to their pony tails and trees? I suspect it was because in these rapidly changing times they are wanting something that is constant – something familiar to use as a safe haven, and separation from such objects causes distress and upset. The pony tail and tree aren’t the real issue, it’s the environment the people are in.

With the pony tail, the boy had just changed schools and keeping something familiar would probably allow the boy to settle in to the new school. So the school could have understood this and allowed a bit of leeway. Not in allowing the boy to keep it as such exceptions would cause problems with the other children at the school who have followed the rules, but in being a bit less draconian. Maybe getting him to trim it an inch each week till it’s gone or put it under a hat.

With the tree, the villagers had known the tree all their life and the owners of the property it was affecting were new entrants so it probably was seen as “townies” who don’t understand the ways of the rural world charging around forcing the villagers to change to their ways rather than vice versa. This new situation was upsetting and so latching on to an object which they had known for a long time but which they new entrants would destroy was a natural thing to do and it had to be kept at all costs because if they lost then the whole village would be destroyed. So in this case maybe crown reduction of the tree would be a half way solution for both sides. And then in a few years time, another application to cut down the now smaller tree could be sent in.

Conclusion

The world is continually changing, but how much of the past should we keep and how much should we “throw away”. Should ancient buildings be kept or should they be allowed to evolve over the years as they did in the past. Should traditions be kept even though the original reason for its existence is no longer remembered or valid. Should old languages be allowed to wither away

SBML

My Precious is a post from: Anna Raccoon

I have often railed against the behaviour of “the left” when it comes to confusing intentions with outcome. I have on occasion even said that I really don’t care how heartless or cruel the motive is, as long as the outcome is good.

It seems to me that “the left” will adopt any stupid, dangerous, illiberal or nasty idea as long as the intent behind it is a good one. The latest stupidity is that journalists should be licensed and belong to a regulatory body, so that they can be struck off and barred from their chosen career. This is presumably in response to the nastiness of the Evil Murdoch Empire and blatantly ignores two things: 1) politicians of all stripes have been cosying up to Murdoch forever and 2) he wouldn’t care less if his journalists got struck off and he’d just buy more.

But worse than that, it is a profoundly dangerous mechanism that would place a lot of power in the hands of the regulator for less powerful media interests, who would be cowed into printing only things that made the regulator happy. And yet, there will be hundreds of grassroots Labour supporters who will cheer and applaud this authoritarian suggestion as eagerly as they would further human rights legislation.

So my questions are: why are people on the “the left” so entirely uncritical of the consequences of their policies, simply because they have noble intentions?

And why is Labour, ostensibly the party of human rights, always so keen to grasp at unpleasant, authoritarian measures?

A genuine question. Or two. is a post from: Anna Raccoon

I was reading about the terrible case of Troy Davis, a black man accused of killing a policeman in in the US:

The federal court that finally reviewed evidence of Davis’ innocence agreed “this case centers on eyewitness testimony.” Yet that court put to one side the fact that seven of the nine witnesses at the trial have now recanted, and new witnesses have implicated another man. The court did so while failing to carefully examine how eyewitnesses ultimately came to identify Davis as the man who shot a police officer intervening in a fight at a Burger King parking lot. The Troy Davis case—which raises a wide array of flaws in our death penalty system, our post-conviction system, and the politics of criminal justice—is thus also a case about malleability of eyewitness memory and police misconduct.

This case underscores my primary argument against the death penalty: cases are rarely closed on incontrovertible and irrefutable evidence. The evidence of eyewitnesses is clearly unreliable and subject to suggestion. In this case, seven of the nine witnesses have recanted, and they actually have a confession from someone else!

It underscores how brutal and unforgiving the state can be when one of its own is threatened. Despite all the extenuating factors, the state is still determined to kill a potentially innocent man pour encourager les autres.

But that is not the point of this post.

Almost inevitably, e-petitions and campaigns have sprung up to try and convince the state of Georgia not to kill a man based on the flimsiest and most worryingly poor evidence. And there is nothing wrong with that, but I often wonder if the current e-petition craze where “we call upon to Grand Poobah of Franjabistan to behave in a more civilised manner” (or whatever) is not like paying a professional penitent to pray on your behalf to save your soul from Purgatory.

It takes almost no effort to sign one of these (actually the Amnesty one is quite good in that it sends emails to people, rather than just collecting a list of made up names to present to the eventual target of the petition, or hoping that the target of the petition could be bothered to read the petition if they even know of its existence!)

But for all that, there is little effort required of the petitioner. A minute of your time and your soul is salved, an act of penitence has been done and you can move on and forget that in a couple of hours, a man who may, but also may not, be guilty of a senseless crime will be dead, executed by the state, despite the gravest of doubts about the soundness of his conviction.

If, one day, Troy Davis is proved innocent and posthumously exonerated, will you even remember that you signed a petition protesting his execution?

(Having said all that, please consider signing the petition. It can’t hurt.)

UPDATE: The Georgia Clemency Parole Board is blocking Amnesty International’s emails, so a workaround is here.

FURTHER UPDATE: Brendan O’Neill has a similar but distinct feeling about this.

E-petitions: the modern professional penitent? is a post from: Anna Raccoon

9/11: Muslim vs Muslim is a post from: Anna Raccoon

How difficult can it be to get myself sectioned under the Mental Health Act?

Not at all difficult, I suspect.

Probably all I have to do is write about a personal “spiritual” experience as I now propose to do. This may well get me labelled as a religious nut job.

But then I hope Raccoonistas will have broader minds, and perhaps debate the matters which I report upon below, and maybe even enlighten me with their views and opinions.

I have in fact had two extraordinary experiences which I will relate. The first is, I think, clearly capable of a rational scientific experience. The second is much more problematic.

To begin.

It is the end of the 1980’s. Your humble monk (then in another life) has taken a break from the day job in the City and has gone on a windsurfing holiday to Vassiliki, on the Greek island of Lefkada. At the time it was just starting to be a Mecca for windsurfers. The reason for this is that Vassiliki is a little village surrounded by mountains that sits at the end of what the end of can best be described as a Greek “fjord”.

When the sun rises is gradually warms the steep slope on one side of the “fjord” whilst the other side remains in shade. At first nothing happens. Then around lunchtime the combination of the warm air rising on one side and the cool air on the other suddenly reaches a magic mix and suddenly creates a vortex of strong, steady wind which is ideal for windsurfers.

It was only a cheap package for 10 days, but it was one of those holidays that seemed to last a month and will stay with me for a lifetime. It in the middle of September, which is at the end of the season because the weather starts to change. I went with a girl friend (as in friend who was a girl – I know, it’s unusual) who was a reasonably experienced windsurfer, whereas I was a bit of a beginner.

We shared an apartment.

The day had a lovely routine. In the morning we would sleep in till about 10.00 a.m.

Then there was a trip to the local bakery for hot fresh bread, and thence to the surf shack on the beach where the wind surfers congregated for breakfast of bread, butter, and honey.

There was always music at the shack: the soundtrack to the holiday was “Mary’s Prayer” by “Danny Wilson”.

At about 11.30 there would be an hour or so of tuition in the calm shallow waters for beginners like me, and then lunch at the shack. All the time the sun was cooking one side of the “fjord”. And then, sometime about 1.30 or 2.00 pm the windsock on the flag pole by the beach hut would stir and then flip out horizontally as the famous Vassiliki wind flared up.

A frenetic afternoon of windsurfing would then ensue: fantastic and tiring, especially for a beginner like me who did a lot of falling on, but great fun.

At about 5.30 or so I and my purely platonic friend would retire to the flat and have a kip. At about 7.30 we would rise and shower, get dressed up, and head off for dinner. First stop was the fabulous “Zeus Bar”, where a cocktail (vodka martini, dry) would be consumed and we each eyed up the respective crumpet. Then dinner in an open air restaurant by the harbour, another bar or two, before a return to the “Zeus Bar”.

And so to party and flirt till about two or three a.m., and bed.

And repeat…

Towards the end of this holiday the weather was rather cloudy; as I have mentioned above, it was towards the end of the season, and on this day there was no sun to fuel the wind. So after lunch I went for a run into the surrounding mountains. These were accessible from a track at one end of the beach. I still remember the steep winding gravel track in surprising detail.

I was a “racing snake” in those days, and ran easily for maybe a mile.

But as I climbed higher and further away from the beach I could see and sense that a storm was heading our way. So I turned and retraced my steps back to the beach.
The beach was maybe a mile long with the surf shack in the middle. I reached the beach and started to head for the shack and heard the first crack of lightening and roll of thunder.  Suddenly I heard a hissing sound. It was loud and steady:

Ssssssssssssssssssssssssss!

I looked back and I could see that a couple of hundred yards behind there an amazing sight: a gray curtain of rain moving swiftly and inexorably in my direction. Oh dear!

I started to run faster. When I looked ahead I realised something else amazing was happening.  All the surfers at the shack had seen me and the sweeping curtain of rain behind, and they were on their feet shouting. Would I beat it and make it back to the shack, or would I be engulfed? Of course it was not life threatening but in the moment it was great stuff.

I started to sprint, determined to beat the chasing storm. The storm hissed and swept on.

At the surf shack, maybe two hundred yards ahead, the surfers were yelling, clapping and cheering: “Faster! Come on! Come on!”

I kicked harder, and then IT happened. Everything went into a sort of slow motion. My body felt lighter than a feather, weightless. Running was effortless. Indeed there was no sense of running along the ground at all. I was floating. It didn’t feel good: it felt blissful. I smiled, because I was relaxed enough to smile even though I appeared to be sprinting faster than I ever had done before. It was perfectly clear to me that I could run, or indeed sprint, for a hundred miles if I felt like it. It was genuinely a feeling of being made of light. I covered the last few hundred feet to the surf shack like that. I felt weightless, peaceful and harmonious.

In fact I think the rain did catch me up before I reached the shack, but it hardly mattered. I finally reached the shelter of the awning surrounding the surf shack to more cheers and applause against the background of driving rain and darting lightning. I have never felt more wonderful in my life. I grabbed a beer.

This euphoria gradually faded. There then followed a further interesting culture event.

The rather flashy Germans (big camper vans, all the kit) were gloomy and dismayed by the storm which had interrupted the serious business of holidaying. The Brits played crazy music, danced in the driving rain, sang and drank the surf shack dry. The Germans were utterly baffled by this behaviour.

What was this phenomenon? Not the drinking and the storm, but the moments of elation or euphoria? It was a remarkable mental and physical moment. It was clearly “a state of bliss” such as most religions refer to in some way, but I do not think a “religious” or “spiritual” is the only or indeed best explanation, although it not to be completely discounted – it depends what you mean.

I am aware that many athletes in their career have at moments of stress or elation reached a similar “zone”, which is often referred to as the “peak moment”.

Indeed I remember long ago hearing an interview with the former World Formula One motor racing champion Jackie Stewart in which he describes veering off the track in a spin, and suddenly, once again, everything went into slow motion: he could smell the grass, feel every aspect of the car and so forth. I can understand exactly what he means.

I was not ultra fit, but what I think happened was the result of a combination of rest, healthy exercise, fun, excitement, a small element of stress, and being close to nature.

Somehow these fused together to create in the moment an explosion of endorphins (or whatever) in the brain. Thus a purely rational explanation. But that does not mean that the experience was not “spiritual” in the sense of being profoundly wonderful and moving.

It has never happened again.

As to the second event, that is much more problematical….

To be continued?

(Photo Credit: Mad Monk)

How To Be Sectioned: Part 1 is a post from: Anna Raccoon

This is another subject that cannot actually be rationally discussed.

Any mention of “facts” will be met with an increasingly histrionic barrage of “counter-facts” and allegations of violent atrocity.

But the truth of the matter is that if you look at the relative attitude of the even the most aggressive Israeli government towards Palestine is one of cowering timidity compared to the recently-elected Hamas party in Palestine. And there are such difficult questions facing the behaviour of the Palestinian “establishment” towards Israel.

Why is it acceptable for Hamas to vow that they will not stop until they have destroyed Israel, but unacceptable for Israel to respond to actual, physical Hamas aggression? Why is it wrong for Israel to launch air strikes against missile attacks? Why do a million Muslims enjoy the same freedoms and protections as Israelis in Israel, when a Jew cannot safely set foot in Palestine?

There have been times in the past where I’ve thought that Israel’s response was heavy-handed, but then, if I was the one facing random missile attacks, I wouldn’t be thrilled to hear my Prime Minister say that we need to “show restraint”. I’d be right there screaming for the protection of my family and myself.

And if you have a missile and you shoot it at one of the world’s most heavily armed, most militarised societies, what exactly do you expect the response is going to be? Personally, I wouldn’t dream of picking a fight with the Israelis because not only are they armed to the teeth, but they’re very used to being in a fight.

It looks to me very much like an extreme case of politics to me. There is Palestinian leadership that is largely immune to the consequences of what they say. The “little people” bear the brunt of rash words and actions, and nobody is genuinely accountable (on the Palestinian side) for inciting war and fomenting hatred. And of course, the use of fatwa and jihad to justify the provocation further excuse Hamas from almost anything. It’s a self-feeding cycle.

No-one dares to censure the Palestinian authorities. Indeed, large swathes of the international community seem to positively endorse militant anti-Israel cant while vilifying the Israelis for anything they say or do.

I could understand if people criticised the Palestinian authorities for fomenting trouble, or allowing an area under their control to be used for acts of aggression against the Israelis and criticised the Israelis for excessively forceful responses. But it seems to me that that the lines are drawn and comment is only on one side or the other.

I wish someone would explain this awful, messy, unpleasant situation to me.

Is Israel really the monster it’s made out to be? is a post from: Anna Raccoon

A growing chorus of people is calling for Abdel al-Megrahi, to be placed in gaol again.

Any regular of Private Eye would know that his original conviction was based on incredibly weak forensic evidence and very dubious witness statements. There is considerable evidence of dark and dirty backroom dealing by various secret services to get someone banged up and the whole thing swept under the carpet. This is disgraceful, because it means that the people who are left behind have not, despite all appearances to the contrary, received justice.

His release on medical grounds was thoroughly vetted and was completely lawful.

Apparently, he has broken the terms of his bail conditions because his parole officer has been unable to reach him on the phone, hardly surprising given what is happening in Tripoli at the moment.

And yet now people are calling for him to be put in gaol again. You can tell by the way that it’s being reported that this is just cheap political point-scoring against the SNP, or possibly to shore up the votes of “right-thinking” Daily Mail readers.

But the most surprising person to join the chorus is Nick Clegg. As either a Liberal or a Social Democrat, there should be no call for him to require a person who has done his time, been lawfully released on compassionate grounds and has not committed any subsequent crime, to be put in gaol again.

It once again underscores the complete lack of principle in modern British politicians, who will say anything, literally anything, if they think it will gain them more votes than it loses them. There are no principles, no beliefs, no rules in the world of modern politics. It is all about expediency, soundbites and bandwagons.

It is also profoundly depressing.

Jail Megrahi! is a post from: Anna Raccoon

This post is a first guest article from Charles Crawford, who normally resides in his Blogoir. It is an edited version of his post The Disastrous Death of Common Sense, which first appeared at the Commentator.

Over the centuries English property law has invented many ingeniously pragmatic ways in which property can be owned. One key distinction shows itself every time a couple take out a new mortgage. They are offered a choice: a ‘tenancy in common’ or a ‘joint tenancy’.

The difference is as simple as it is profound.

Under a tenancy in common, the property is owned by A and B in specific shares (eg half/half, one third/two thirds); A’s share can be sold or bequeathed to someone else, so B now co-owns the property with that new person.

By contrast, if A and B own under a joint tenancy there are no identifiable shares: if A dies, A’s share automatically goes to B.

In other words, property ownership can be the sum of many discrete, separable parts each owned by a different individual, or a single phenomenon in which many owners each have an equal claim on the whole. For property, read society or community.

And then contemplate the sprawling philosophical disaster of ‘multiculturalism’.

The whole point about multiculturalism is that it treats any given social space as, in effect, a tenancy in common. Each group (as defined by multiculturalism) has a specific stake and specific interests: the gays, the blacks, the women, the disabled, the under-class all have formally defined rights and identities.

This very idea of course leads to what any normal person would see as insane if not wicked contradictions: thus it is vital that lesbian couples be given the right to adopt children, but also vital that ‘white’ couples be stopped from adopting ‘black’ children. But for multiculturalists it all makes perfect sense: the property rights of each atomised multicultural ‘community’ must be ring-fenced.

This philosophy is all about emphasising differences: some real, but many phony and synthetic.

By contrast seeing society as a ‘joint tenancy’ in which what people have in common is far greater than what divides them suggests very different policy approaches, not least non-racial adoption policies.

So, what has ‘caused’ this startling outbreak of flash rioting?

A central part of this philosophy is to deny if not denounce (literally to de-construct and de-legitimise) traditional values and unifying symbols. See Twitter, the Guardian and Independent passim.

Under multiculturalism what precisely unites us?

The Monarchy?

Sneer - white privilege and oppression.

The Law?

Sneer - rich man’s justice.

British history?

Sneer - written by imperialist winners.

British economic success?

Sneer - just the rich getting richer at the expense of the poor.

The British public?

Sneer - bring in more immigrants and let them stay in ghettos not learning English.

British democracy or even democracy itself?

Sneer - a tool of oppression and false consciousness.

British literature?

Sneer - too many dead white men.

Family values?

Sneer - repressed middle-class neurosis.

Separating Right from Wrong?

Sneer - oppressive class-based value judgements.

And so on.

For a gold-plated example of progressive sneering, check out the Nobel Prize lecture of Harold Pinter:

‘There are no hard distinctions between what is real and what is unreal, nor between what is true and what is false. A thing is not necessarily either true or false; it can be both true and false.’

Tell that to the ruined shopkeepers across London.

Thus every day in every way our society is infiltrated by divisive sneering.

Most of it emanates from publicly funded organisations captured by the sneering classes (universities, BBC, NGOs, local councils, quangos). And over the years the consequences of this tsunami of state-subsidised sneering compound up, not least in the way people think about what they themselves represent in society and what society ‘owes’ to them.

This in turn gnaws at deepest instincts of personal self-respect. How dare the government make ‘cuts’?

It’s my money, especially if I have done nothing to earn it!

The multiculturalist chattering classes see the looters and rioters with mixed emotions. There is lurking (sometimes not so lurking) pride that ‘the system’ has been ‘challenged’ so brutally by these ‘protesters’ who have ‘reclaimed’ (sic) the streets.

Those of us who refuse to succumb to progressive nihilism must heave a deep sigh and confront the extraordinary horror seen on the streets of London and other cities and towns.

It’s bad enough having to pay to put it right – money which could have been spent on new investment. Most difficult to tackle in its vile abstractness is the philosophical problem: the insolent assumption that anything (anyone?) can be challenged and destroyed simply because the rioters and looters feel like it. And the implicit blackmail threat that if we don’t give these people whatever they want, they’ll start it up again.

The looters in some dim way probably talk among each other about ‘respect’, but in substance they don’t respect other people, the law, any idea of self restraint. Above all, they don’t respect or begin to understand the slow power of compound interest to build and sustain wealth down the generations.

They don’t know where the value of what they are smashing and burning in fact originates. They don’t know where the streets they plunder come from.

They’ll be curbed and contained, of course.

But then what?

Multiplication of division is a post from: Anna Raccoon

And did those feet in ancient time,
Walk upon England’s mountains green:
And was the holy Lamb of God,
On Englands pleasant pastures seen!

Is it not true that the United Kingdom is vastly overpopulated? All our resources stretched to breaking point, house prices crazily high because of a severe shortage and our precious pastures green under constant threat from unscrupulous builders?

Well, in a word: no. A brief examination of this rather startling document shows that actually, our precious pastures green are, if anything, far too carefully protected. Scanning through the various gatekeepers to development, the Environmental Stewardship Scheme leapt out as a particularly egregious restriction on our ability to provide affordable housing. If we did away with paying tax money to farmers to maintain fake “biodiversity” in what are basically built-up or near-built-up areas, we could have all the affordable housing we could eat.

Planning Permission Audacity Where to Build 01

That, in turn, got me thinking: do we even want affordable housing in the UK? Having lived in several different countries in my life, it strikes me that housing in the UK is remarkably expensive, for what you get. And it seems to me that the cycle of incredible boom and bust in UK house prices is not apparent in many other countries. “Getting a foot on the housing ladder” is not merely the symbol of settling down and having your own home (albeit heavily mortgaged for decades). It’s potentially your pension pot and also a handy source of refinancing “income” when times are good. It is, in a strange way, a bit of a business that almost every Briton can aspire to. In many other countries, there doesn’t seem to be the same aspiration for home-owning, precisely because it is more about a place to live, than your own magic money machine.

The whole system is built on false foundations. The reason why housing is disproportionately expensive is precisely to support people who already have houses. Strict planning regulations prevent people from building sufficient houses for everyone. Builders like this, because they can build more profitably, or at least, they can charge a higher sticker price. Existing home owners like this, because their asset appreciates and they get to treat it as a kind of money-making machine.

If we had the double advantage of not paying for faux biodiversity and access to approximately six times the current area to build homes, house prices would fall dramatically. Pretty much everybody would be able to afford to buy a house and the decision to buy or to rent would be taken without the additional consideration of rent-seeking that currently mars the market. All of this could be done without affecting the green belt, or any area of scientific interest or forest or any genuinely arguable protected area.

Imagine how nice it would be if you were paying 25% or 30% or possibly even 50% less on your mortgage or rent. think how much more you’d be able to spend on other things, or save or do something useful with.

But governments have taken the tiger by the tail now. They can no longer reasonably strive for any sensible or near-market housing policy without dispossessing and outraging the millions of existing home-owners. Reducing house prices to actual demand and supply requirements without false constraints on supply mean that we spend much more on our housing than we need to, while a significant number of vested interests coin it by pressuring government to maintain strict regulations to maintain their financial advantage.

If it were Tesco or (heaven forfend!) a bank indulging in this kind of blatant racketeering, we’d all be screaming blue murder.

But in this case, the rent-seeking scum who insist on the maintenance of these corrupt practices is, well … us.

And was Jerusalem builded here, among these dark Satanic Mills? is a post from: Anna Raccoon

The Capital Punishment debate is not one of your typical emotion vs reason jousts that seem to be fought on a frequent basis in this day and age. While the argument against the death penalty (with which I have sided for as long as I’ve had any sort of opinion on the subject) may be that which is seen as more ‘level headed’ and ‘rational’, the truth is that both corners appeal to the memory of innocent people who were murdered for no good reason. Those wishing to bring the electric chairs of Texas to the Uk will of course call on the victims of serial killers, particularly children or vulnerable people, in order to press their case. However, opponents of the death penalty like this bunny would be lying if we claimed never to have attempted a tug at the heartstrings ourselves.

This excellent piece demonstrates that on the subject of Capital Punishment, the ‘emotional highground’ (if such a thing exists) is far from black and white, but also illustrates the inevitable human cost of restoring hanging, gassing, the chair or whatever form of ultimate justice one might seek to introduce. Something that the short existence of this site has taught me is to have a little more respect for good people who oppose my point of view than might previously have been the case. It should be said that while I’ve never changed my mind on Capital Punishment, even for a minute or so, I’ve heard one or two arguments in its favour that have certainly served as food for thought and momentarily stopped this bunny in his tracks.

Thankfully, the suggestion that the death penalty greatly deters and/or reduces crime is one which I have not heard for quite a while. Of course, if we’re talking about applying the punishment to murderers, then such a case simply does not stand up. Is a predisposed killer really open to the prospect of thinking rationally about the consequences of getting caught, especially when many believe themselves to have been assigned some sort of mission from a higher authority? Then there are the ‘other’ types of murder, committed in a moment of rage or temporarily diminished responsibility. No penalty is possibly going to prevent someone from ‘snapping’ or ‘losing it’ and I thank the man upstairs that as I’ve got older, the number of people suggesting that it might has progressively receded.

In the orthodox sense, this would leave us with good old-fashioned retribution as the central plank of any case for Capital Punishment. The sentiment of an ‘eye for an eye’ is an understandable human reaction towards any horrific crime, particularly when the victim is or was close to the person expressing it. However, it is worth asking whether or not an individual with an emotional stake in an act of heinous wrongdoing is the best-equipped to judge how it should be dealt with?

In my article on Double Jeopardy, I talked about Ann Ming’s determined campaign to change the law, and how difficult it must have been to present a rational case against someone in her position without sounding cold, detached and heartless. Of course it’s nigh-on impossible, but that doesn’t necessarily prove the opposing argument right. Anyone with a vested and personal interest in an emotional situation will (quite understandably) find it difficult to see beyond the positive resolution of their own case. As a result, they tend not to be people open to reason, acknowledging the other side of an argument, or being shown some of the anomalies and unintended consequences that may result from the outcome they desire.

But here’s something it is not terribly easy to argue with:- there have been serial killers and murderers throughout history, whose crimes were vile both in their nature and scale. They confessed and showed no remorse, their guilt is certain and to suggest that rehabilitation may be part of the solution would be utterly ridiculous. Would a swift 10,000 volts not make a great deal more sense than the expensive business of incarcerating such criminals for the remainder of their natural life? If one looks at it from a particular angle then indeed it might, and my opposition to the state-sponsored execution of the likes of Peter Sutcliffe momentarily becomes more fragile in the principled sense.

What prevents this bunny from crossing over to ‘the dark side’ is the sense that once you open the door and allow a single individual who is absolutely guilty of a horrendous crime (or multitude of them) to be put to death, then the trip down the most slippery of slopes is well under way. Driven by an emotional or hysterical media, people will always cite additional ‘crime x or y’ as an instance of why the scope for Capital Punishment should be widened. I have no doubt whatsoever that within a few years of allowing an isolated case to meet their maker, there would be a ‘mission creep’ in the direction of allowing the death penalty against anyone found guilty of murder.

This is much like the subject of torture in the sense that there is something of a paradox at the centre of the equation. Although some of the issues and questions may be complicated, it ultimately makes more sense to deal in absolutes, and once the firm ‘no’ on either capital punishment or torture is broken, the natural next steps are inevitably towards the opposite extreme. You can always make a case for someone who killed 25 people to be put to death themselves, just as there is a rational argument that water-boarding is justified if it can be shown to have saved lives. It’s the resultant shift in the terms of conversation that represent the real danger.

I remember being opposed to Capital Punishment as a teenager, and being the only member of my family who took that view. This bunny was also the solitary male amongst his school class either principled, wimpish or contrary enough to reject the pumped-up testosterone of mob rule and conclude that putting murderers to death simply brought too many unwanted consequences. The point is I haven’t needed a single event to serve as a subsequent booster shot for those instincts, and never after watching a news story about a particularly horrific crime has my initial reaction been to scream “hang him, shoot him” at the television. Of course I find such tales as disturbing and unsettling as most, but you won’t find this bunny in the queue of people offering to flick the switch or administer a dose of toxic gas.

However, earlier this year I took the time to research the case of Stefan Kiszko, who lost 16 years of his life for the murder and sexual assault of Lesley Molseed in 1975. This is one of those very rare instances where it is utterly demonstrable that an innocent man was the victim of what one MP described as “the worst miscarriage of justice of all time” (Kiszko, who suffered from hypogonadism, could not physically have produced the semen that contained sperm heads, recovered at the crime scene). Minus the presence of a legal representation, he was bullied over several days into a phoney confession (that he retracted at trial) by police under pressure to jail someone, anyone for the murder. This, along with a truly dreadful defence and the withholding of key evidence that proved his innocence, led to a jury ‘just knowing’ that he had committed the crime.

Stefan developed schizophrenia while in prison, began to believe that his imprisonment was all part of some state-sponsored experiment (mind you, that’s not as ridiculous as it might sound) and had become a thoroughly broken man by the time his conviction was finally overturned, leading to his release in 1992. A massive heart attack 18 months later would finish the job that a few bent cops and an embarrassingly useless solicitor (David Waddington would, regretably, later become Home Secretary) amongst others had started. Of course, had the death penalty been in place at the time of his conviction then Kiszko would simply have been condemned as an evil nonce and child-killer, then hanged amid a backdrop of rapturous public celebration. In reality, he was just a shy and socially awkward tax clerk who was tied to the apron strings of his mother, found it difficult to interact with new people but essentially would not have hurt a fly.

Real people like Stefan Kiszko are the horrendous potential cost of Capital Punishment. I’d hope that some of its supporters would at least consider his case and acknowledge that the actions of the state towards him were themselves every bit as horrific as those of a deranged killer, since they essentially sentenced a totally innocent man to a slow, painful, 17-year death. This more than anything has re-enforced my opposition to the death penalty, because if our police and courts are either inept or corrupt, and partaking in the business of fitting up harmless individuals, then it is in all of our interest for this to be brought into the public domain.

Keeping those who continue to protest their innocence (and therefore show no ‘remorse’) alive is the only way to ensure that not only the miscarriage of justice, but the nature of it, can be exposed, since evidence that renders the original conviction unsafe might take years or even decades to come to light. Moreover, the state-sponsored execution of innocents does not protect the rest of society by any possible definition. Instead it acts as a blanket to both the real perpetrator of the crime and the inadequate or dishonest faces of law enforcement, who facilitated the travesty.

I’ve attached the first part of  ’A Life for a Life – the story of Stefan Kiszko‘, which is a well-produced piece even if it lets the police off the hook somewhat. You should be able to navigate your way through the film from there.

RIP and God bless Stefan Kiszko

Take care and I’ll see you all tomorrow…

Daz Pearce at the outspokenrabbit.blogspot.com

Opposing the death penalty is a post from: Anna Raccoon

“The citizen of Oceania is not allowed to know anything of the tenets of the other two philosophies, but he is taught to execrate them as barbarous outrages upon morality and common sense. Actually, the three philosophies are barely distinguishable.”
- George Orwell, 1984, Book 1, Chapter 9

I frequently get berated for the “impractical” nature of my faith in society’s ability to exist without government. But the truth of the matter is that government isn’t really a part of my day to day life. I don’t need to do anything that requires government involvement in any way. In truth, the only times I interact with the government in any way is when I pay them for the privilege of getting permission to do something that really has nothing to do with them.

Want to drive a car? Buy road tax, get an MOT, etc. It’s not like I don’t pay a princely sum to keep my car in tip-top nick already, but that does not matter to the faceless bureaucrats who spend my road taxes on everything but roads, and insist that may car ticks a number of boxes before it goes out on the road. The fact that I could drive a car which becomes an MOT failure immediately after certification for 364 days after its MOT, entirely legally, is neither here nor there. The bureaucratic box is ticked.

People will insist on arguing that without government to keep us all safe, heartless businessmen would inflict all kinds of cruelty upon us. And it is true that intentionally or unintentionally, a business could inflict some kind of cruelty upon us, but it happens now, yet we’re paying for a burdensome monster to make all of our lives less pleasant that doesn’t really protect us, it just disguises the cost of these things from us. And government does not protect us from murder or burglary, the best it can do is to identify the miscreant and offer them some kind of punishment. Unless, of course, they just give us a crime number and go back to their doughnuts and coffee.

I also get chastised by people who adhere to one political party or another for having the ludicrous notion that there is no material difference between the three main parties. But the truth is that political parties sit on a continuum of interference and direction of how we should all live our lives. Some call for less invasion and hectoring, some call for more, but crucially, all of them insist that without the wisdom and kindness of government to direct us, we would all revert to some kind of feral madness.

The idea that people will just get along most of the time, like they currently do, without a government, is what makes one an anarchist.

Anarchists, in the true sense of the word, are people who believe, like I do, that people do not need a government to prevent them from behaving like feral animals. (In my opinion, there are two main kinds of anarchists, those who believe in property rights and those that don’t. People who don’t believe in property rights are trying to ignore basic behaviour found in most animals. Animals mark their territory, gather their own (or their own “family’s”) food for winter, etc. The idea that something is “mine” and that it can be stolen from me is pretty fundamental to most forms of multi-cellular life. To try and deny something that fundamental would seem absolutely counter-productive to me.)

But the point is this: most people, when left alone, will rub along together fine. Sure, there will always be personality clashes, but by and large, we all just get along, and if we’re not getting along, we vote with our feet and go elsewhere.

And when I’m talking to someone (I may be alone in this, I realise) I very rarely think: “Shall I kill this person and take all their possessions? Oh, I’d better not, lest the government come after me!”

None of our normal day to day life and social interaction actually requires government intervention. Government does not, ultimately, properly protect us.

Now, having read this far, you may either agree or disagree with me, but I think it’s fair to say that I’ve made a reasonable, coherent argument as to the reasons why I am an anarchist: I don’t see the need to get the government’s permission to do what I want to do, I believe that left to their own devices people will just get along and I don’t believe that government is the wise protector it’s made out to be.

No blood has been spilled, no-one’s offices have been trashed, and hopefully, one or two people are now wondering why exactly it is that they pay so much tax.

So why exactly is it that the police feel the need to single out anarchists as the new jihadi?

What should you do if you discover an anarchist living next door? Dust off your old Sex Pistols albums and hang out a black and red flag to make them feel at home? Invite them round to debate the merits of Peter Kropotkin’s anarchist communism versus the individualist anarchism of Emile Armand? No – the answer, according to an official counter-terrorism notice circulated in London last week, is that you must report them to police immediately.

This was the surprising injunction from the Metropolitan Police issued to businesses and members of the public in Westminster last week. There was no warning about other political groups, but next to an image of the anarchist emblem, the City of Westminster police’s “counter terrorist focus desk” called for anti-anarchist whistle-blowers stating: “Anarchism is a political philosophy which considers the state undesirable, unnecessary, and harmful, and instead promotes a stateless society, or anarchy. Any information relating to anarchists should be reported to your local police.”

I can’t help but feel slightly baffled by this. Almost everybody who has met me knows that I am an anarchist. I’m always happy to argue my beliefs and hear counterarguments. I don’t go round destroying monuments or blowing up public buildings. All I do is argue that the state is undesirable (it costs too much and hides the true costs of things going wrong), unnecessary (because we’d all just get on like we do today anyway) and harmful (because of state-sanctioned wars, police shooting innocent people and various other misdeeds). To all intents and purposes, this post means that the Metropolitan Police want to know about me.

This looks like a spectacular own goal by the Met. If a mild-mannered, middle-aged man who has never troubled anyone else in his life needs to be monitored and regarded as a threat to the world, then the Met look like a bunch of idiots. Given the awful publicity they’ve had recently with their own incompetence, I hardly think they need to indulge any more blatant stupidity.

But the fact of the matter is that this chills me. It makes me wonder if some vindictive or deranged policeman might not be tempted to fit me up or start making my life uncomfortable, just because I have perfectly reasonable and peaceful views.

The Metropolitan Police have committed more than their fair share of actual crimes, have harmed far more innocent people than I have and yet they see fit to intimidate anarchists who have not done anything.

Why do they feel the need to do this?

Coming for the Anarchists is a post from: Anna Raccoon

This post is a first guest article from Ellee Seymour, who blogs at elleeseymour.com.

I’m playing Amy’s poignant Back to Black as I write this.

We have read so much about Amy Winehouse’s untimely death in the last week, there is very little to add. Death is always a sharp reminder of our own mortality, of leaving behind broken hearted loved ones to grieve who wish they could have done more.

Amy’s early death reminded me of my dear friend Sue who died from drink, as well as three other friends too, all decent people with personal torments who were were far too young to die. They didn’t cover their bodies with tattoos like Amy, they were all intelligent and amusing and I felt helpless as I watched their decline, their inability to fight their “demons”. In Amy’s case this was a toxic cocktail of fame, personal wealth to feed her habits, a broken heart we are told, feelings of worthlessness; all this on top of her addiction to drink and drugs.

Would Amy’s death had been so shocking had it been a male rock star? I don’t think so. It seems so much worse when it happens to a woman.

I wonder what difference there is between Amy’s death and that of   Marilyn Monroe’s overdose, and soprano  Maria Callas’s early death, which many have said was the result of  unrequited love after Aristotle Onassis’ marriage to Jackie Kennedy.

These are very different women, all wonderfully talented in different ways, yet all emotionally fragile all with unhappy love lives and feelings of inadequacy, who all purportedly self-destructed to a greater or lesser degree, and sadly, all died too young.

Echoes of Amy Winehouse is a post from: Anna Raccoon