A hostile Climate for 'Illegal Immigrants'

Windrush has shown us all that insitutional racism is live and kicking nowhere more so than in May's Tory Government. Time, then, to re-work Ole Man River. Paul Robeson would understand and, I hope, approve.

Ole Ma'am May

Ole Ma'am May

That Ole Ma'am May

She gotta do somethin'

But don't do nothin'

She jes keeps rollin'

She keeps on rollin' along

In the NHS, we'd sweat and strain

Though subsistence wages were a big pain

Turn that bed

Empty that pale

You got no documents

So you land in jail.

I gets weary

An' sick of her lyin'

They screw you while you're livin'

They'll screw you when you're dyin'

But ole Ma'am May

She jes keeps rollin' along

She made this mess

Looks like she's forgotten

The core of an apple

That's now wholly rotten

But ole Ma'am May

She keeps on rollin'

She just keeps rollin' along

Ole Ma'am May

That Ole Ma'am May

She gotta do somethin'

But don't do nothin'

She jes keeps rollin'

She keeps on rollin' along

Re-conSydered

CLEMANTICS Spring 2018

“Can anything be more disgusting than to hear people called 'educated' making small jokes about eating ham, and showing themselves empty of any real knowledge as to the relation of their own social and religious life to the history of the people they think themselves witty in insulting? [...] The best thing that can be said of it is, that it is a sign of the intellectual narrowness—in plain English, the stupidity which is still the average mark of our culture.”
 George Eliot

Re-conSydered…

Well, my old darlings… I have to begin with a declaration. I am currently a member of the Labour Party. I say this to explain why, only last week, I received a letter, addressed to me personally, from John McDonnell – yes, that John McDonnell!

Now, you can imagine this came as something of a surprise given that I have never met the man. But nevertheless my interest was piqued. Could he be inviting me for lunch at The House, tea at Party HQ or, perhaps, a ringside seat at Jezza’s next outing? Unfortunately the reality was rather more prosaic, as he asked me if I could see my way clear to giving him a few quid toward funding the Party’s local election campaign! I thought to myself, “600,000 members and he’s still on the ear’ole. When will enough be enough”?

More than this, however, I have issues with the Party which I need to express and the word I used earlier - ‘currently’ – begins to assume more and more importance. So here follows my letter in response to that which I received, personally remember, from John.

Dear John,

Never has an address (above) been more fitting, as this letter is in fact a ‘Dear John’, John.

No, not because you asked for money, although with 600,000 Members I did wonder when enough could be enough, and not even for the impudence of addressing me by my first name when you don’t know me from Adam. No, the reason this is a goodbye letter concerns the current state and culture of the Labour Party.

A prime example of the culture to which I refer is the current problem of anti-Semitism in the Labour Party.

Since the Sharmishta Chakrabarti report on antisemitism and the suspension of Ken Livingstone nothing of any consequence has been done. This has been compounded by the poor or failing eyesight of Mr Corbyn and Ms Shawcroft, who both apparently could not see what was in front of their eyes and whose knee-jerk reaction to a mural and a Facebook post respectively was to defend what were clear anti-Semitic statements. Then, when members of the Jewish community protested at the complete lack of attention given to the problem, (and were given active support by some members of the PLP and the House of Lords), the protest was immediately spun by the hard left as an attempt to smear ‘Jeremy’. Furthermore, some of those MP’s who attended the protest against anti-Semitism were later threatened with de-selection.

At a later date, Momentum did acknowledge that anti-Semitism is a problem in the Party but couldn’t resist adding that some people were using the opportunity to undermine ‘Jeremy’!

Historically, the Labour Party has prided itself on being a broad church. Now, it is more of a long, narrow church such that any dissent from the new orthodoxy is considered treasonous by the leader’s Praetorian Guard, Momentum; to the extent that so called disloyal MP’s receive a variety of threats and abuse as well as being threatened with de-selection.

I often wonder how Clement Attlee would fare in the ‘modern’ Labour Party. Attlee, a man who fervently believed in the Socialist ideal, but did not think that one size fits all. Attlee, a man often derided for his low key demeanour but who pursued his leadership as a means of uniting rather than dividing factions. Thus, as Prime Minister, his Cabinet consisted of a cross section of the Party, from Ernest Bevin, on the right, to Aneurin Bevan, on the left.

The Attlee leadership philosophy is one Mr Corbyn might do well to follow wherein dissent/disagreement is tolerated and embraced. A view I would think you, John, and Mr Corbyn might share given you both dissented from Party policy on numerous occasions without the threat of de-selection hanging over your heads.

Unfortunately, I won’t be holding my breath especially given that Mr Corbyn is effectively in thrall to Momentum. Nor in my opinion will that organisation countenance allowing him to be inclusive for that would t dilute the purity of the hard left ideology.

So I come to the crux of my letter. I resign my membership of the Labour Party with immediate effect. This of course also deals with the issue of your request for a donation but importantly it sends an existential message to yourself and Mr Corbyn.

So, whilst my resignation won’t make much of a difference, rest assured it will make some difference, and one which will reverberate until such time as the Labour Party can once more claim to be the broad church it, once, aspired to be.

Sincerely

Syd

PS Hard copy in the post – not hard left of course.

Editorial note: A 'Dear John'  is, in prison argot, a letter from a prisoner's girlfriend telling him that she has blown him out.

El Syd is back

"When we are returned to power we want to put in the statute book an act which will make our people citizens of the world before they are citizens of this country." ~ Clement Attlee

And now for Syd

I’m ramblin’, ramblin’, ramblin’, ramblin’,

I want to ramble with you,

I’m ramblin’,

I hope you want to ramble too….

That ditty, for which I want to thank the late, great Bob Marley, makes everything sound jolly and hopeful.

But jolly and hopeful are the last things I have been feeling lately. Rather I have felt down in the mouth, down hearted and generally disheartened. I even lost interest in contributing to this outstanding blog.

I wonder what Clem would have said. Well he might have said “Do what my old mate Winnie used to say – you’ve just got to keep buggering on!”

Really? Well I suppose he’d be right, but with ailing public services, councils in danger of using all their reserves, prisons in meltdown, education in crisis, social care in crisis, police services under strength, fire services under strength, the privatised probation service underfunded and heading for bankruptcy, homelessness rising inexorably…… I could go on and on.

All this and I haven’t mentioned Brexit. Well I can put that right and no mistake. Let’s take for example the irony that we have a remainer Prime Minister arguing vehemently for leaving the EU, and a Brexiter leader of the opposition arguing for a continuing form of membership of the EU! You couldn’t make it up!

To continue the ironic theme, is it just me, or does anyone else think it bizarre for individuals to work for, and be paid well by, an organisation whose very existence they believe to be a turd-splat on national sovereignty and self-determination! Such hypocritical denial is then compounded by the expression of self-righteous platitudes about how principled they are by working for and succeeding in achieving their own professional demise; oh how I sometimes wish it could be personal.

And then, and then, we have Vlad the Nerveless – or so he claims – spreading a nerve agent around Salisbury like angel dust. Why? To kill an ageing spy? No, he and others were simply collateral damage.

In part he wanted to test the strength of the Western alliance and specifically our place in that alliance, given the fact we are leaving the EU and our uncertain future relationship with a Trump America. In addition the inevitable response would be a perfect opportunity to inform his constituency that, once again, the Western capitalist bastards are attacking the peaceful Russian people for no good reason, ergo, his message to the Russian people is:

“Vote for me at the election. Russia needs a strong tsar – er, sorry - leader.”

And what of us?

There are some who say we should not have responded to this provocation. Our esteemed Leader of the Opposition has been equivocal and cautioned against engaging in another cold war. For my part, I rather think that boat has already sailed. I wonder what Mr Corbyn would have said when Hitler moved into the Rhineland or Austria?

“Hang on a minute, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, they might just be having a day trip to pick up some cheap booze and take in the sights”.

What’s that called? – Oh yes, appeasement. Now that did work well!

How much evidence does Mr Corbyn want? The attack on the people of this country was with a military grade nerve agent only developed and produced by Russia. The manner of its use was such as to be wholly negligent of its capacity to affect many more people than the supposed intended targets.

Of course, Russia was likely to be responsible and, of course, we had to respond.

In addition to the expulsion of Russian “diplomats”, the Conservative party will have to forego any further donations from Russian emigres, including those that have been made through auctions at Tory black tie fund raisers. In one such example, the wife of an ex minister in Putin’s government paid £160,000 to play a tennis match with Boris Johnson. Personally, instead of playing tennis, I would investigate just how they acquired their wealth. Then extend this policy to other members of the Russian community, the squillions laundered through the City and the purchase of property.

Oh yes, we’ve also held talks with our closest allies and all have agreed with the government’s analysis and pledged their full support. Now whether such warm words will translate into action is a perhaps a moot point. So far we remain (oops) a member of the EU, but what the relationship will be after Brexit with both the EU and America is anyone’s guess. My fear is that we will end up as ‘Blighty no mates’!

So perhaps you can understand why I’ve been feeling just a touch miffed lately. But then, just as I thought that things were as bad as they could be I, for reasons best left to the mysteries of the unconscious, watched the film Network (1976) and more specifically what must be one of the greatest lines in cinema history:

“I’M AS MAD AS HELL AND I’M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE”!

Yeh, I’m mad as hell. I’m mad with Putin, Trump, May, Corbyn and the rest of them. But do you know what, I’m really mad at my fellow citizens who will watch and be able to answer Mastermind questions on the life and times of Ant and Dec, but ask them about the potential effect of leaving the EU or the dangers that Trump and Putin pose for the world, and they will collectively shrug their shoulders and say ‘I’m not interested in politics” or “I don’t really understand that stuff”.

What can we do?

We the Clemantics will seek to enlighten and educate, we will be the Peter Finch’s of the blogging world. We will make a small but perfectly formed existential difference in the world (well you’ve got you’ve start somewhere)!

So join us in our quest, help us impale Vlad, hoist the Brexiteers by the moulies and generally ensure that politicians continually look over their shoulders and feel the hot breath of Clemantics fury should they continue to take us for granted or indeed to the cleaners!

See you next time.

Syd

PS Apparently, Prince George wants to become a policeman…

Who’s going to tell him!?

Terminator 6 - The Return of the Vainglorious

Terminator 6 -  The Return of the Vainglorious



It was back in the Autumn of 2013 that the then MP for West Wirral, and Employment Minister,

 first came to our notice. I talk of none other than Esther McVague. Mc Vague did hard time in the

 putrefying Coalition trenches, launching attack after attack on welfare shirkers and those receiving

 disability allowance. Who can forget the target she set for herself of removing 300,000 from

 Disability Allowance because, as we all know 'bodies heal'? She received the Distinguished Service 

Order (DSO) for being the willing attack dog for IDS' barmy policies. Again, who can forget her woofing

 on that 'food banks are positive and to be expected' or that 'job seekers could be sanctioned for failing

 to accept zero hours contracts'. Not only this but super-trooper that she is, McVague made the

 ultimate sacrifice by taking a hit for the Coalition's disastrous social policy – she lost her seat at the 

2015 election.
But, you can't keep a good attack dog down – Mc Vague nosed her way back into Parliament by 

securing  George 'Gid' Osborne's vacated seat of Tatton, complete with its unassailable Tory majority.

 Now, like it's Ground Hog Day, Mc V. is back at Work & Pensions but this time as the Leaderene. 

She has had no trouble getting back on the horse and has already endeared herself to people in her

 home city of Liverpool by closing Job Centres.
To mark Mc Vague's elevation to a post, where she can give full rein to the skills she learned as 

Director to a Company specializing in demolition and site clearance (JG McVey & Co.); and in

 celebration of McVague's relentless devotion to obfuscation, distortion and self promotion, I have turned

 to Gilbert & Sullivan's Pirates of Penzance and offer you: 


I am the very model of a Modern Cabinet Minister



I am the very model of a Modern Cabinet Minister
I'll make up information, both inaccurate and  sinister,
I'll seek out the work-shy, welfare cheats, the leaches on the state,
Watch the homeless figures climb at an exponential rate,
I'm a mistress of fake figures and general obfuscation,
Fibs, massaged statistics to mislead all the nation;
I'll baffle; I will fuddle and create mayhem and muddle,
I'll have MacD and Corby cringing in a huddle;
I'll see off Witty Emily, I personally will do for 'er
You see I am the very model of an ambitious Cabinet Minister.

Policy initiatives, I have them by the squillion,
Winter for all claimants -  it's gonna be a chilly'un;
Disabled sanctions – got 'em surging past a million
Closing Job Centres, set to save a billion
No job too irksome or too insignificant -
Never missed an opportunity to prey upon the ignorant
But never catch me lying, dissembling or indefensible
I'll always be well-groomed, smooth and, of course, presentable
I'll see off Terry May, her government's just canicular 
You see I am the very model of a Modern Cabinet Minister.


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Cicero he say...

“A nation can survive its fools, and even the ambitious. But it cannot survive treason from within. An enemy at the gates is less formidable, for he is known and carries his banner openly. But the traitor moves amongst those within the gate freely, his sly whispers rustling through...all the alleys, heard in the very halls of government itself. 

For the traitor appears not a traitor; he speaks in accents familiar to his victims, and he wears their face and their arguments, he appeals to the baseness that lies deep in the hearts of all men. He rots the soul of a nation, he works secretly and unknown in the night to undermine the pillars of the city, he infects the body politic so that it can no longer resist. A murderer is less to fear. The traitor is the plague.” Marcus Tullius Cicero

" Remind (you) of anyone?" Theresa May  25.4.2016

Ramblin' Syd at Large

Do you remember Rambling Syd Rumpo? Well it was on Round the Horne when Syd – deliciously played by Kenneth Williams – put to music tales of yore in a language that might only be described as wangled with a touch of bilibluster!

Anyway, anyway, I was just woggling this morning, when I thought I might have a ramble meself on some of the dagblinders that have made me bludder with increptitude and, on one occasion, self scratchifaction.

A week or so ago, I was watching ‘ Peston on Sunday’ as all good political geeks should do. Now, Mr Peston (note the honorific) ….. do you know, for a long while I thought Mr Peston was a member of the aristocracy (duh!). Then, of course, I found out that he comes from a working class, Jewish family from North London and that his father was made a life peer. Well, you can imagine how sorry I felt for him – what’s that? – no, not because he’s Jewish you doughnut, but because he doesn’t come from south of the river, or to be precise, Sarf East London! (For those of you unfortunate enough to be born outside of the metropolis, the river in question is, of course, the Thames).

Right, now before this begins to sound any more like a Ronnie Corbett monologue, back to “Peston on Sunday”.

One of the guests was Lord Adonis, who argued the case for a radical Labour government in the mould of the 1945 Attlee government. Well my heart swelled like a pomegranate full of the juiciest of juicy granates; Why? Because, without any doubt, the beautiful Adonis must be a devotee of the blog that is Clemantics and the due reverence that this heaps upon the one, the only, great and politically inclusive Clement Attlee.

There’s no doubt, Attlee’s belief that in politics, one size doesn’t fit all was one he carried into government and was demonstrated by including in his cabinet the likes of Aneurin Bevan and Stafford Cripps at one end of the Labour spectrum and Ernest Bevin at the other. I do hope that the messiah that is Jeremy Corbyn, and his disciples McDonnell and Lansman, are able to also live up to the historical imperative that Labour is a broad church and not a single denomination. I have my doubts.

Now, one of the problems with rambling is that stuff happens which one feels obliged to mention even though in the mentioning I can feel the cockles of me heart freezing with shame and anger. What I’m talking about here are PFI and out sourcing. To my shame, to be honest I didn’t take much notice; well this was a Labour government, how could they behave in a way that was not in the best interest s of the British people. Well, we now know they did.

The result, of course, is Carillion, G4S charging for people wearing a tag who were dead, academies running up significant losses and a PFI bill that will cost something around £200 billion. During the last 20 years, Governments of both stripes have foresworn borrowing – even though rates for the past 10 years have been eye watering low – so as not to be accused of profligacy (worked well for the Labour party!). So, a Labour leadership in the early 2000’s afraid to stand by the principles of radicalism, and follow a Keynesian economic plan, and a coalition government ideologically intent on undermining the welfare state in the guise of austerity to pay down the deficit.

The trouble with rambling is the potential to induce a downward spiral of psychological un-wellness unless one can happen upon something joyful and uplifting. Is there anything of that nature around? Well, yes there is and I’m pleased to announce that Donald J. Trump has been found to be physically and psychologically 100% fit. Unfortunately, there a minor downside to this and it is we can’t even blame his behaviour on the belief he is a nutter. On the other hand, if we accept the findings of his medical, then our 5 a day becomes a Coke, a cheeseburger, A KFC bucket, another coke and a Macdonald’s McNugget! Vegetables and fruit? I spit on vegetables and fruit!

But hark, what’s that I hear? Jeremy Corbyn demands we stay in the single market!

Oh joy of joys, oh joyfulness unbounded! Oh no… more fake news!

See you soon, I’m just off to get a cordwaller before I attempt my ritual scream into the pit of despair.

Syd is currrently away on his rambles and will return soon with more rumblings...

Immigration Returns (did it ever go away?)

  Clemantics - May the Farce be with You 

 

Immigration Returns(did it ever go away?)

It has been a while but immigration is firmly back on the agenda:

• The new registration system has resulted in 100 EU nationals being asked to leave with bank accounts being shut down when they are legal UK residents .
• Office for National Statistics (ONS) figures show that the number of people from EU working in the country has risen by 112,000 since the Referendum to 2.38 million
• Number of Polish nationals has fallen but numbers from Romania and Bulgaria have risen
• Home Office has been unable to recruit sufficient caseworkers to deal with 3 million EU registration applications
• UK Border Agency is hopelessly under-funded to deal with the Post-Brexit arrangements at airports and ports

So let us journey into Brexitland with Alice where she discovers that a self-serving Brexiter can always find a mad solution to a mad self-inflicted problem

Alice in Brexitland

Alice looked up from her tea cup to see the White Rabbit come running by.

“Oh bother; bother; bother; 3,000,000 into 1200 won't go! Everyone knows that! Just ask a mathematician; it just won't go! Oh bother and bother again.”

Without noticing the T. Party the White Rabbit disappeared down the road.

“ Well” said Alice, “The Rabbit is in a bit of a state. He didn't even seem to see us. He never misses the chance of a cup of tea, if there's one going. Whatever can be wrong?

“ Oh, The Rabbit's been like that for days.” replied The March Hare distractedly.

“He has a spot of bother with the Amber Princess. That's why every other word he says is 'bother' “

“ Who's the Amber Princess?” enquired Alice.

“No-one really knows,” mused the Mad Hatter, who had begun to show an interest in the conversation.

“She just appeared from nowhere last year sitting at the Red Queen's right hand. The Knave told me that the Red Queen likes the Amber Princess because Amber loves all the dirty jobs that no-one else will do. The Red Queen refuses to do anything that is at all messy. She just says 'I've got a headache send Amber instead'. Amber trots along but all the while is plotting to replace the Red Queen. Tweedledum and Tweedledee are quite put out.”

“ Amber turning to Red” quipped the March Hare

“What has all this got to do with the White Rabbit? “ asked Alice

“ You see,” said the March Hare, checking his watch to ensure there was time to uncomplicate a complicated story “ When Wonderland became Brexitland the Red Queen promised that she would get rid of all the unwanted Aliens that had flooded in (or like yourself had fallen in through a hole in the ground)

No more German Shepherds – send 'em home

No more French Hens – retournez chez elles

No more Spanish Flies; no more Italian Stallions etc. etc.

And above all no more POLE CATS...send 'em packing.

“ A plan that was a little mad even by my high standards of madness” continued the March Hare “ It soon became clear that as soon as the Aliens started to go home, there were not enough Aliens left to do all the jobs needed to keep Brexitland going. It was a complete mess, which, of course, meant that the Red Queen sent out an SOS for Amber.

“What's an SOS” interjected Alice

“ SOS is like a panic button.” explained the Hatter laconically. “ As soon as someone shouts Save Our Sovereignty, we all have to drop what we are doing and join the panic.

“ Now we've got AA as well as SOS” said the March Hare mysteriously. They invent a new Aggronym every time there's a spot of bother...and before you ask, Alice, AA stands for Amber's Ass-essments...and before you ask 'what's an Ass-sessment' the answer, as Humpty Dumpty says, lies in the word itself.

Amber has devised an Aggrorithm ,which helps her decide on which Aliens to keep and which Aliens to dump . Each Alien is made to answer ridiculous questions like 'How many flamingos do you need for a game of croquet?' Answers are awarded 'keep' points or 'chop' points. If you score more 'keep' points than 'chops' you stay; but if you have more 'chops' you are chopped!” proclaimed a delighted Hare.

 

“The only trouble is” interrupted the Hatter “There are millions of ass-sessments to be done and not enough Ass-sessors. That's why the Rabbit is in such a stew as he has to get all the Ass-sessments done by yesterday.

Yesterday's count showed that there were only 1200 Brexitlanders prepared to work as Ass-sessors.”

“So no-one wants to be an Amber Ass-sessor.” said Alice thoughtfully. “Why not?”

“It's a matter of Jelly Beans” replied the Hatter. “Amber won't pay them enough Jelly Beans!”

The talk of numbers and Jelly Beans caused the Dormouse to waken. Dormouse loved Jelly Beans and calculations, but he absolutely adored calculations which involved both Jelly Beans and numbers.

“If 3,000,000 won't go into 1200, you just borrow” he said in a sort of superior Dormousy voice; with a flourish, he produced a spreadsheet from the tea-pot to support his point.

“ Borrow? Did someone say borrow” piped up the White Rabbit, who had stolen up unheeded.

“ Borrow, brilliant...that's it” said an ecstatic White Rabbit. “We borrow clever Pole-cats to do Amber's Ass-sessments. They have always done the work, better, quicker and cheaper than anyone else in Brexitland”

“Mad; deliciously, contradictorially, vastly hypocritically mad!” chimed in the Hatter

“So do you mean we get Princess Amber to employ Pole-cats to get rid of unwanted Aliens including other Pole-cats?” enquired Alice “It is completely mad.”

“We’re all mad here in Brexitland. I’m mad. You’re mad.’ commented an airy, amused voice from on high.

Alice looked up to see that the Cheshire Cat had appeared. The Cat had been smiling approvingly as the discussion concluded.

`How do you know I’m mad?’ said Alice.

`You must be,’ said the Cat, `Or you wouldn’t have come here.’

“I suppose so” said Alice, “ Except I don't think I chose to be here...”

 

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