This week, there have been a few incidents that have convinced me that some people and some organisations have become so divorced from reality that the decree is now "absolute"; having moved on from "nisi" some time ago...
First Case:
Ed Miliband made a little speech today (28th June) calling for Bob Diamond to be hanged by the neck until dead (provided that that was the result of the "full force of the law" being applied, probably) for operating a cartel within banking that set interest rates in his and his mates, er...interest. During his speech, he mentioned all of the little people that work in banks and how they work very hard, just like lots of ordinary people in other jobs and that they shouldn't be tarred (or feathered, presumably) with the same brush that he'd like to stick up bankers' arses. And he makes a good point (for once). Well done, Ed (or your speech-writer). Mind you, Ed has said today that he wants to see "...people that have done the wrong things...going to court". So that would include Blair and Brown then? No...didn't think so...
The main point, however, is that the Bob Diamonds of this world no longer care about or have any real understanding of what they are doing in terms of how it affects the wider world and the ordinary people that dwell on it. It may be, of course, that that makes perfect sense if Bob Diamond and, latterly, Fred Goodwin, are, in fact, shape-shifting reptilian humanoids from Alpha Draconis, as propounded by everyone's favourite loony, David Icke. I would just so love that to be true...wouldn't you? Mind you, Icke believes that Queen Elizabeth II, George Bush and Beyonce (probably) are Draconoids, so maybe he is right...only joking; the man is bananas.
Not so long ago, bankers like Diamond knew who their customers were. They might even have met some of them from time to time and had a nice cup of tea. Of course, these people are not 'bankers' as we have understood the descriptor in the past. A new word should be used to describe them in order to differentiate between them and proper 'bankers', like the nice men and women at the Co-op that refuse to use money for unethical purposes, apparently, or those at the Credit Unions who serve communities rather than themselves. Either we do that or we retain the word 'banker' for the nasty people and invent a new one for the nice banky folk, like 'cash-cuddlies' or 'money-teddies', perhaps. I prefer the option of finding new descriptors for Diamond and his ilk; words that sum up their approach to life and business. Complete, Utter Numismatic Tossers might work, seeing as how much they love to describe everything they do in acronyms that they hope nobody else will understand, e.g., "Rights Issues Can Help", or "(The) People Our Operations Re-home".
Diamond's position as head of Barclays has to be untenable, hasn't it?. But he won't see that (through his green, lidless, reptilian eyes) as he has the indefatigable belief that what he does is "right". His job is to make money. He has to make money in order to justify his existence. Nothing else matters (ah! Metallica!) It doesn't even matter to him that it isn't real money, just so long as the people with whom he deals believe that it is real money. Maybe we should put Diamond in charge of De La Rue so that he can just print paper money and then take loads of banknotes and lie in a big box with them and wallow. I wonder if that would make him happy? I also wonder what he does with all of his money....actually, I don't. I don't give the tiniest shit what his life is like, but I do give a whole sewage farm full of shit about the lives of those people that he and his pals have crushed by varying degrees. People like Diamond have no conscience. They may have started with one but then they lost it. And yes...they are to blame. Not the system, not governments, not the lack of regulation...they have no fucking idea of right and wrong and they need to have (as Miliband and others have demanded) the full force of the law visited upon them. The trouble is that these Complete, Utter, Numismatic Tossers can afford the best lawyers, ones that will delay and prevaricate for as long as it takes for a Draconian Reptile Shape-Shifting being to die or go back to their planetary system. So just let the fucker resign or get sacked and let's move on...even if that course of action might have been suggested (obliquely) by Dave (the PM, not the TV channel)
Now...In another case of reality-divorce...
....The people that look after all things 'royal' in this country have finally proven - beyond all reasonable doubt - that they have absolutely no fucking idea about anything outside of their pointless, privileged existences; just like Bob Diamond, then. What is worse, however, is that the broadcast and print media think that the latest news from "The Palace" is actually worthy of report...
First Case:
Ed Miliband made a little speech today (28th June) calling for Bob Diamond to be hanged by the neck until dead (provided that that was the result of the "full force of the law" being applied, probably) for operating a cartel within banking that set interest rates in his and his mates, er...interest. During his speech, he mentioned all of the little people that work in banks and how they work very hard, just like lots of ordinary people in other jobs and that they shouldn't be tarred (or feathered, presumably) with the same brush that he'd like to stick up bankers' arses. And he makes a good point (for once). Well done, Ed (or your speech-writer). Mind you, Ed has said today that he wants to see "...people that have done the wrong things...going to court". So that would include Blair and Brown then? No...didn't think so...
| Lizard king tells other lizards to hold their forked tongues (maybe) And isn't there a wee bit of Himmler about this image? Or maybe just Herr Flick... |
Not so long ago, bankers like Diamond knew who their customers were. They might even have met some of them from time to time and had a nice cup of tea. Of course, these people are not 'bankers' as we have understood the descriptor in the past. A new word should be used to describe them in order to differentiate between them and proper 'bankers', like the nice men and women at the Co-op that refuse to use money for unethical purposes, apparently, or those at the Credit Unions who serve communities rather than themselves. Either we do that or we retain the word 'banker' for the nasty people and invent a new one for the nice banky folk, like 'cash-cuddlies' or 'money-teddies', perhaps. I prefer the option of finding new descriptors for Diamond and his ilk; words that sum up their approach to life and business. Complete, Utter Numismatic Tossers might work, seeing as how much they love to describe everything they do in acronyms that they hope nobody else will understand, e.g., "Rights Issues Can Help", or "(The) People Our Operations Re-home".
| Icke's view of 'W' Not dissimilar? |
Now...In another case of reality-divorce...
....The people that look after all things 'royal' in this country have finally proven - beyond all reasonable doubt - that they have absolutely no fucking idea about anything outside of their pointless, privileged existences; just like Bob Diamond, then. What is worse, however, is that the broadcast and print media think that the latest news from "The Palace" is actually worthy of report...
I don't care if the royals wish to have some bonkers set of rules about who has to curtsey or bow to whom and when and where these silly bobs and bends should be done. They're all bananas, anyway, so it doesn't surprise me in the least that they have code of curtsey conduct, but I do care that the BBC and the newspapers feel that it's all worth telling us about it. It appears that if you're a 'blood relative' of the queen then, regardless of whether you're going to be a queen at some point yourself, then you have to curtsey to someone that won't ever be a queen. Sod the Euro-crisis, Afghanistan, Iraq and the Coalition's privatisation of the NHS and the dismantling of everything sensible in our Education system...let's all learn about royal etiquette, instead. The mistaken belief in the media is that the public wants to know, is interested and, laughably, thinks there is a relevance today.
We're supposed to imagine a situation where the "Princess of Hearts II" is ambling down some corridor in one of the royal palaces; she's all on her own, just whistling a happy tune (inwardly, so as not to break the royal whistling codes) because she is now a very royal person that one day will be a queen. What a fairy-tale land she inhabits, too...with smiling children all around to give her flowers and her husband's grandfather making calls to the woodsman to tell him to sharpen his axe. Anyway, the princess is about to reach the end of the corridor when who should come around the bend? It's the Princess of Silly Hats and her sister, Princess Overbite. Oh my God! What should she do? Should she curtsey or should she simply smile and nod. Can she say anything, or must she wait until spoken to by these blood-royal personages. Or should she just punch them both in the mouth? If only she had studied the new code of curtsey conduct last night (like her husband and father-in-law had said she should) instead of combing her beautiful princess hair for hours after dinner (one ryvita, one grape, two pine nuts = size 0).
In a (pine) nutshell, we need to ignore this, for all of our sakes. Let's not forget that most of the royal family are Draconian, reptilian, humanoid-shape-shifters anyway so the curtsey might not be that easy for them. Everybody say "aah" or, when the aliens get all angry..."Aaaaargh!)
And finally....
Boris Coe and Lord Johnson (or is that Lord Coe and Sebastian Johnson? - I forget) have divorced themselves from the reality of the "Team GB" population, favouring rather the "Team GB" olympic enthusiasts (5% of the population, probably, those being the saps that applied for tickets for anything and got some for something else, along with the idiots that followed a torch around the country - Oooh! Look! Fire! A Flame in a Gold Thing!)
There's only one month to go. One month before we can forget entirely the ignominy of England's Euro 2012 departure from Ukraine and the inevitable defeat of Murray in the semi-finals of Wimbledon and ready ourselves for the a £9bn crapfest in East London in the shadow of Diamond's obelisk on Canary Wharf. One pointless, out of touch organisation overlooking the other.
We're supposed to imagine a situation where the "Princess of Hearts II" is ambling down some corridor in one of the royal palaces; she's all on her own, just whistling a happy tune (inwardly, so as not to break the royal whistling codes) because she is now a very royal person that one day will be a queen. What a fairy-tale land she inhabits, too...with smiling children all around to give her flowers and her husband's grandfather making calls to the woodsman to tell him to sharpen his axe. Anyway, the princess is about to reach the end of the corridor when who should come around the bend? It's the Princess of Silly Hats and her sister, Princess Overbite. Oh my God! What should she do? Should she curtsey or should she simply smile and nod. Can she say anything, or must she wait until spoken to by these blood-royal personages. Or should she just punch them both in the mouth? If only she had studied the new code of curtsey conduct last night (like her husband and father-in-law had said she should) instead of combing her beautiful princess hair for hours after dinner (one ryvita, one grape, two pine nuts = size 0).
| Lizard innards attempt to exit the shape-shift body - Horror! |
And finally....
Boris Coe and Lord Johnson (or is that Lord Coe and Sebastian Johnson? - I forget) have divorced themselves from the reality of the "Team GB" population, favouring rather the "Team GB" olympic enthusiasts (5% of the population, probably, those being the saps that applied for tickets for anything and got some for something else, along with the idiots that followed a torch around the country - Oooh! Look! Fire! A Flame in a Gold Thing!)
There's only one month to go. One month before we can forget entirely the ignominy of England's Euro 2012 departure from Ukraine and the inevitable defeat of Murray in the semi-finals of Wimbledon and ready ourselves for the a £9bn crapfest in East London in the shadow of Diamond's obelisk on Canary Wharf. One pointless, out of touch organisation overlooking the other.
People of the Week:
Jimmy Carr: The official scapegoat of tax-dodgers everywhere. I wasn't shocked about his financial arrangements; just by how much he can earn by not being very funny...
Chloe Smith: Sacrificial lamb of the Treasury. Bless...
David Beckham: Winning doesn't matter. What matters is that Becks is as close as we can get to a living god. Should have been picked. Send 'Psycho' Pearce to the tower!
Susan Allen: The acceptable face of RBS? Probably...Like Miliband said, there are actually some good people in our banks. She just happens to be one of them and, whilst this may fly wholly in the face of my usual blog stance - Hester isn't so bad either. I'd back Hester in a scrap with Diamond, anyway. I'd even pay to see it...
| "Oy! You! Yeah, you, Diamond, y'bastard! Over here son. Yeah. you, ya yank wanker lizard banker! You're gonna get your fucking head kicked in... Put your webbed dukes up then, or fuck off back to your planet... Don't fuck with me, son...my dad's from Yorkshire..." |
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