Orwell would be proud.

I don't want to sound alarmist, but having watched the vid below, it would seem that we haven't sleepwalked into a surveillance state. We've run into it.

Reading the local Police propaganda leaflet that was shoved through the door this morning, I see that they are arming local members of the public with video cameras to monitor the traffic, in the interests of safety. Bloody Bollocks to them.

Bigbrotherstate
by HuesForAlice

The naked truth

Something perplexing is about to happen at our airports. At Manchester Airport they're trying out a machine that allows the operator to examine the naked images of passengers. Some people think it's disgusting, others are embarrassed. Some are happy that it's there to protect them, but some people will believe anything. No doubt there were a few Jews who thought that arbeit really would make them frei.

Many people will no doubt be pleased that there is an option of being "patted down" for bombs and weapons in the old-fashioned way, but of course we all know that if the trial is considered a success that option will soon disappear. Actually, it'll probably disappear even if the trial is not a success, because it'll save money. One operator sitting on front of a screen costs less than two or three outside interacting with the public. From there it's just a short step to the idea that as terrorists have been known to blow up buses and trains, they should have these machines at stations and bus-stops too. In fact, why not install them all over the place, hidden in walls and doorways in shops and offices and the street? After all, it's to protect us, isn't it, so how can we object?

Mind you, I don't envy that operator at Manchester Airport, slumped over a screen all day looking at grainy images of fat men's hairy bollocks and saggy old tits. But - and here's the perplexing part - what no one's mentioned so far is that his day will be enlivened from time to time by images you don't see very often.

Muslim ladies in burkhas, for instance, will suddenly be revealed in all their ... whatever it is they keep under their robes. What would the Prophet say about that?

And then there are the children. Anyone else looking at images of naked children is a disgusting pervert, fit only for a single cell on the special wing with all the other nonces. But this is different, presumably.

There seems to be some sort of arcane pecking order at work here. Anti-terrorism trumps cultural sensitivity and paedophilia, is that it?

If you're a smoker be very afraid.

It would seem that Justice is a word for the rich and unprincipled. This story about a lorry driver being convicted on the word of an EHO Fascist, and a judiciary that have lost their fucking minds. (Sorry about the swearing)

Read this awful tale over at Freedom 2 Choose

I'm going to lie down with a cigarette.

A lucky escape

An amazing lucky escape of a Toddler in a buggy. The Mother let go of the buggy on a station platform in Melbourne. You can guess the rest, but have a look at the footage.

Choo Choo

Carter Ruck's letter to the Speaker of the House

Here is a letter from Carter Ruck to the Speaker of the house of commons

Tranfigura doc

Read it and make your mind up.

Personally I think they were caught out.

Rules for Americans

The English Pub

These are, of course, renowned the world over as places to get to know the local people. To ensure a pleasant evening's drinking, follow these tips:

Select your pub carefully. The best pubs are those in the inner cities, around some of the least salubrious housing. The people here cannot afford to go out, so pubs in these districts are full of upper-crust Englishmen who travel here in their Bentley cars to get away from the hustle and bustle of country pubs.

Mix with the locals. These "toffs" often put on a coarse accent after a glass or two of beer; do not be intimidated, they are resting their throats after talking "posh" all day. They will be glad to play Eton college word-games: "Get Up, That's My Seat", "You look a puff-to-me!" and "Is-she-for sale?" Call out one of these games to any large chap, and have fun.

Order your drinks carefully. Bartenders are notoriously dishonest (indeed, they are proud of this tradition, and enjoy having their "leg pulled"). If you order a spirit drink, they will pour a little into your glass; insist on it being topped up to the brim. When tasting your first sip of beer, exclaim that there must be water in it. They will admire you for your candour, and will offer to buy you a drink "on the house". Pubs that sell "real ale" are attempting to emulate Budweiser beer; let the landlord know where he is going wrong. He will be very grateful for advice from an American.

"Darts" is a common pub game. Your opponent will throw darts at the circular board - your object is to pull them out faster than he can throw them. If you see a game in progress, reserve your place by rubbing out all the numbers on the blackboard.

It is common to find pool tables in pubs. Beware, they are not playing to American rules! To join a game of pool already in progress, simply pick up one of the cues provided, walk to the table, and quickly cue the black ball into the nearest pocket. You are now in the game. The object is to pot all your balls as quickly as possible without disturbing the white. Don't be disheartened if you miss a shot; quickly move on to the next. You score extra points for "blocking" your opponent's attempts to shoot, using your hands.

Remember that free snacks, such as crisps and peanuts, are kept behind the bar to retain freshness. For goodness' sake, don't let them "rip you off" by demanding money!

At about 11 o'clock, it is traditional for the barpeople to call the game of "time", leave their posts and wander around the pub, shouting at people. Do not be alarmed - they may sound like they want you to leave, but in fact the reverse is the case. English pubs close after dawn, and the staff are shouting to stimulate drinkers to continue spending their money. The object of this game is to remain where you are! To ensure you don't get thirsty during this period, buy a few rounds just before 11 o'clock (it's a slow time for the staff, so use this opportunity to chat). Drink slowly. You'll have ample opportunity to catch up when the barman returns to his post.

When you do leave the pub, you are likely to find a small crowd of happy revellers outside, singing traditional songs as they await their chauffeurs. This is known as "chucking-out time" The ladies in these crowds are sad and lonely; why not ask the male chaperones if their lady friends would like to come back to your hotel? Offer to make them very happy. The men will probably ask you to discuss the pedigree of their charges in the privacy of the pub car park.

I'm looking forward to this at a local near me

Another cat on a puter

I've broken my radio (Almost)

I threw my radio across the bedroom after listening to the Today programme this morning.

The wingeing about how MPs' were being badly treated made my blood boil. Then came Harriet Harperson. Aaaaaaaaaaaaagh.

Not for those with high blood pressure. Listen here.

They still don't get it

Various MP's are furious and are saying that they won't pay back the money that they claimed in error.(Must be careful, Carter Ruck maybe lurking)

There are growing signs of a rebellion among MPs in Westminster this afternoon, as politicians from all three main parties ignore their leaders and publicly question the accuracy, validity and authority of Sir Thomas Legg’s expenses letters.

Will they not see that the public do not see it that way. The public see them as troughers of the worst order.

it's all in this article in the Times on Line

Carter Ruck