The Judge RANTS!
Were I not already sufficiently depressed by: the decision of my diabetes to go ape-shit and push my blood-sugar levels all over the place (but mostly upwards); the oncoming Feast Of St. Amazon And All Consumers; the imminent prospect of having to cobble together the obligatory End Of Year Piece; and the generally shit weather; if, as I say, this were not enough, the goings-on in what passes for a Parliament last night would have turned my misanthropometer up to 11.5.
Now, regular readers would no doubt expect me to expound at some length on the matter. However, for the reasons already stated, I can't. It's not that I don't have a coherent argument to put - far from it, although I'm well aware that others have expressed it far better than I could. It's simply that there are times when any such argument cannot be put coherently (not the same thing), it being extremely difficult to type when one's fists are balled up in rage.
- Rage against the opportunists who skulk behind words such as 'conscience' when they quite clearly are strangers to the very concept.
- Rage against those who are so 'moderate', so 'realistic', so 'reasonable', so 'centre-ground' that they will vote for yet another sequence of bloody mis-steps not out of any lingering sense of principle, but primarily to stab their own party in the chest in full public view (thereby showing total contempt for not only that party's new leader but for the substantial majority of the membership who voted for him).
- Rage against those self-same self-serving self-pleasurers who invoke the spirit of the International Brigades - the International Brigades, if you fucking well please! - in order to support an essentially regressive and imperialist act, and who sit down after evacuating their dollops of casuistic shit to rapturous cheering, approbation and applause - from the other side.
- Rage against all the aforementioned chancers, criminals and dissemblers who - having just supported the bombing of civilians (which is what, in the main, it will be in any practical analysis, there being no such thing as 'smart missiles', whatever a government minister may say) - suddenly start screaming and sobbing like maladjusted three-year-olds because some of their constituents - y'know chums, the people who actually employ them - have the sheer gall and ingratitude strongly to express their anger and contempt at the ethical voids who claim to speak for them. This is now called 'bullying' and is naturally sharply to be distinguished from the minor peccadillo of lobbing high explosives at civilians who are already having to put up with being ruled over by some of the finest talents that Saudi Arabia (with whom - as that serial arse called Kim Howells once said - we have "shared values, aye!") can arm and fund.
- Rage against the entirety of the tame media who enthusiastically parrot the incipient war porn which is about the only thing that gets the poor darlings hard and/or moist nowadays (arousal always being a practical problem for eunuchs), and who are already in full state-propaganda Don't-You-Know-There's-A-War-On mode.
- And rage against the ovine docility of a public which can clearly be persuaded to support any counter-productive stupidity, any barbarity, if it is dressed up in either The Flag or a military uniform, and if it can be mediated under variations of the "Well, if it saves one lickle kiddy's life!" doctrine.
Fuck them all. Fuck them all through all seven hells, and then build another couple below them so that they can be fucked through those as well.
I can say no more.