And there we have it.

Well, Today’s Events Were Interesting, Weren’t They?

To those that were lucky enough to make it down to London and express their opinions in a controlled, pacific manner; I would have loved to have been there with you.

To those who made it down to London, set up a speaker rig and those who joined them and had a massive amount of fun outside Millbank Tower in an uncontrolled, but still pacific manner; I would have loved to have been with there you. 

To those who were genuinely so impassioned that they felt the need to resort to violence to make their voices heard, you probably need to listen to less Black Flag or stop reading the works of Malcolm X or more worryingly, Dante’s Inferno.

To those jeb ends that made it down to London just to get lairy for a laugh, kick up a fuss, smash a few things, write expletives that your grandma would probably cry upon hearing, on public vehicles and the walls of a commercial building just for the sake of venting their anger, just to express some sort of rebellion or worst of all - just to have a good story to tell their peers; What the actual fuck? 

Whilst people were in the capital, making their voices (and sometimes their fists and footwear) heard and potentially partaking in a historical event, I have spent the entire day lying in bed, only to leave to participate in bodily functions. I did not go into university, because I frankly couldn’t bear the fifteen minute walk through the bitingly cold wind into my campus. It was only an hour long lecture anyway, and I was pretty clear on the content, before anyone chastises me for either delinquency or hypocrisy.

Similarly, I did dotingly watch the live coverage, followed countless eyewitness accounts and looked at some pretty pictures on a few websites. So I’ve got a vague idea of what happened. I DO NOT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT MEDIA BIAS, if everyone was so righteous, there would be nothing controversial to cover. And to my admittedly quasi-sane knowledge, there was a hell of a lot wrong with the entire situation.

From what I saw and heard, there were definitely people throwing bottles and even flares at the police line. At one point a firework was thrown into the bonfire, and a fire extinguisher was thrown off the roof at the police. It’s all completely deplorable.

Examples of both massive cunts, and reasonable people, and people that teeter between the two can be viewed here:

I’ll take the risk of actually using Sky News and Youtube as sources; yes I’m aware of what News Corp. and Google.inc are. And what? -

http://bit.ly/9ROOzY

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qAGNJMQD1rA

Come to think of it, why was the police presence so sparse at a venue where some form of public disturbance was likely to occur? And why did it take so long for supporting officers to turn up?

Fair play, there were people having a good time to the soundsystem, and I’m all for being peacefully disruptive and seditionary in such a manner; but this was thoroughly overshadowed by a disgracefully large amount of people completely destroying CCHQ, I can’t think of something much more counter-intuitive.

The reports of violence detracts from the cause that so many individuals had a genuine passion for. A huge proportion of students that attended the protests travelled a good distance to make their voices heard. The papers are in no doubt going to have minimal coverage about the peaceful protest, and a few million pages about how an angry mob of students annihilated parts of Millbank Tower.

Everyone knows my stance on the Tories, and I look upon the entire party, and it’s Liberal Democrat affiliates with the utmost disdain; I suppose resorting to such crude measures without waiting for as much as a parliamentary referendum does reflect our ever so educated angry youth mentality. And maybe this level of irresponsibility might teach the Government that implementing austerity measures on education might not be such a good idea in the grand scheme of things. After all, it seems like a lot of people can’t settle their issues without throwing a tantrum and breaking things. I sincerely hope we don’t all get put on the government’s proverbial naughty step and have any of our civil liberties restricted, namely our right to protest.

Maybe a compulsory lesson in taxation might be in order. I mean, the cost of repairing all of the collateral isn’t likely to come completely from insurance, is it? The compensation for injured persons certainly isn’t going to. George Osborne is certainly not fucking paying for it out of his own purse either. Consequently, public money will be less available for things that are actually worthy of funding. Its likely that far-right wing nationalists will blame it on ‘The Immigrants’ stealing all of our uni places imposing a strain on the education sector; whilst tin-foil-hat-men nationwide will do a similar thing, but work the Illuminati into the scenario somehow.

If so many people were that keen to flout the law so much, surely picketing Parliament Square or attempting to cause disruption at Whitehall or Downing Street would have been a better and significantly less violent option. It would have been so much more symbolic. I just don’t get it.

*(Meanwhile, David Cameron’s in Beijing getting tips off China on how to govern us as a nation… We best watch out that the government don’t ban protests completely and get all Tiananmen Square on us. Believe it or not, some students have had it a lot worse.)

I am still really fucking angry, I do implore everyone to keep kicking up a fuss about any government policy that they disagree with, without kicking down glass and concrete. And again; before you say anything. I’m obviously an influential public figure. If Perez Hilton can command the masses, why can’t I?*

Apologies if this is just drivel… Here’s a picture of some cute extremely cute puppies -

x

*There are elements of hyperbole and irony in these segments, if you thought that these were my sincere beliefs, you’re a twat. We can no longer be friends.

Revision -

I‘ve just found out that Millbank Tower is owned by two Russian Oligarchs, David and Simon Reuben and I’m now slightly less annoyed at the destruction of their property, on the assumption that their wealth didn’t just stem from reputable Aluminium dealing and good fortune.

My stance on the use of violence to achieve the particular goal that protesters set out to achieve still stands, however.

Unfinished Complaints About Nothing In Particular

One more sleepless night is bearable, daylight will cater and food’s not short; but here’s some food for thought. Thoughts starve you, of your dignity.

When your last priority is to sort out the priorities that society expects you to have, you tend to sicken yourself.

Society makes the nausea worse, until you get sick. Adhere to your bed but fall short of bedsores. We’re not at that stage yet. But the mattress is bare, springs seem to break the skin. The lack of sex makes you wank yourself sore. At the risk of doing anything productive, you search for another anonymous ‘college slut’ to lighten your load, for another half an hour…

He works in the city, so that makes it okay.

The night draws to its natural conclusion

Society slows its pace

Until the walk becomes a crawl

And vomit trickles from quivering lips

“What’s wrong, princess?”

(The air temperature falls

When snow is melting)

Noses run

With sticky white residue.

“You look cold.

Have my jacket.”

She obliges, arms linked

She walks to his, motor

Function’s non existant.

Ignorant to his ulterior motives.

Deep down

(She wouldn’t mind it)

Deep down.

She knows she waxed for a reason.

‘I do it for myself!’

She protests as he passes his judgement.

Like fuck, does she?

He’s not keen on sleep.

He whispers ‘sweet nothings’ into her ear

He’s into ‘The Notebook’ apparently…

But a human being’s most sensitive body parts

During day to day activities

Are generally hidden beneath the panty line.

Phrases every girl longs to hear

Slither off his tongue

Word fucking perfect.

Geoffrey Archer couldn’t match this script

Morgan Freeman couldn’t recite this shit

Better than he did.

 It’s not convincing

But she’s pissed.

She can’t resist

This cunt’s persuasive.

“How old are you?” he asks

He doesn’t want to chance it

“It’s not rape alright.

I don’t fuck kids.

I won’t get a conviction.

I might as well chance it.”

“It’s my eighteenth birthday.”

She whispers

She speaks with such conviction

Though she’s softly slurring.

It sound’s like Queens’ diction 

There’s nothing more graceful than this.

He’s certain

She’s either wet with excitement

Or she’s pissed herself in fear.

Either one’ll get him off.

Disorientation.

Bed and blankets

Spread and panting

So fucking confused

But why argue?

Bed and blankets

It’s only sex.

She lifts up her head to assess the damage.

Mascara, smeared across her cheekbones

A base coat for her bedmate’s sticky white residue.

It’s only sex.

Acrid, bleachy, dirty scents penetrate her nostrils.

It’ll all wash away in the morning.

Her memory, the filth.

The familiarity.

Everything except the guilt.

Hers at least.

The leading brand of men’s shower gel

Masks the odour of accountability

Quite nicely

I hear

About one more conquest,

One less strike at the pharmacy.

Across an office cubicle

In university lecture theatres

And in secondary school playgrounds

Across the land

He denies all accountability.

He lathers.

Rinses.

Repeats.

I can only deduce that the sensible thing to do right now is to get thoroughly inebriated.

N.Y. Subway Rant

This subway cart’s colder than staunch Tory hearts
Indifferent about the fate of our fine nation
It’s fine, save me the indignation.
Blame it on the immigrants.
 
Political correctness is going too far.
Oversensitivity and ignorance are the cause of poor race relations.
 

 Let’s think about it architecturally;

Concrete.
(noun):-
 
A little mix of this
(and that)
Aggregated together to make something stronger.
 
Most cities have no such unity.
 
Keeping within ‘our own’ 
It’s all about the segregation.
“We’re just looking out for the next generation,
At least till they’re fully grown.”
“We’re not racist BUT
This areas not safe with all those…
Blacks and Asians,
The types that steal your phone
Outside railway stations.
The ones that work for less than minimum wage,
Surely they can’t be making an honest living,”
Filling the jobs of the unwilling
SixPointOneKidsToTheirName rat of a human being
Who’s somehow too proud or lazy,
Unqualified or simply not worth employing.
 
I’m certain there’s bigger problems that we face anyway.
 
“COCKNEY’S DYING.
There’s Essex boys talking like Jamaicans”,
 
That’s not really something to write home about, now;
Is it?

How about…
Anglo Saxon cabbies up north, guns raging.
Not enough hospital beds and too many patients.
Lack of support for those just on state pensions.
Bullshit content on our TV stations.
Irregular trains caused by privatisation.

Unethical trade forced by globalisation.

Filling the coffers of greedy corporations…

So I’ve forced a few rhymes,

But hopefully I’ve illustrated my point…

If anyone feels the need to tell me,
Hand on heart.
That their biggest concern about the state of this country is immigration…

They’re fucking deluded.

Observations of a glass collector

“Choose Life”

Says the career barman.

You know the one,

Tattooed neck to toe,

The face protected

Just for modesty.

Six pound and hour

To deal with the sway

And the push around.

The resentment

For the newcomers.

The sway.

The nausea.

Of having to experience

Ejected remains,

To witness the sway,

And the push around.

The aggravation.

The hands on hearts

The fists raised high.

The fists raised tight,

Not like your girlfriend.

Not like your mother.

There’s a queue forming.

Not for your girlfriend.

Not for your mother.

Sodomy won’t move me mate,

Stand in line…

And maybe

Just maybe

You might get served.