Awwww, you guys. The Last Post was supposed to be the last post, but there's no way I'm not going to thank you for all you said yesterday.

Over 70 comments, a ton of tweets and a dozen emails, praising, giving positive suggestions, making offers of help and expressing sadness at my departure. Bloody hell.

I wasn't seeking sympathy with the last post, and I certainly wasn't fishing for compliments, but you were all kind enough to bombard me with both.

Thank you very much; I'm pleasantly surprised at how much it meant to me. I'm touched, flattered and humbled. Who'd have thought, eh?

So, will I change my mind? I dunno. Maybe. Maybe I can force myself not to look at the stats, not to post if I've got nothing to say, or I'm doing something else, not to feel obliged to post every day, not to be, as Leg Iron points out, so obsessive about it all. Maybe.

But regardless, Constantly Furious is buoyed by your comments and your kindness.

Thanks very much.

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I - yeah, let's abandon the third person - have decided to give up, to quit, to call it a day.

Why? Well, no one compelling reason. I haven't been 'outed' at work, my wife hasn't threatened to leave me, I'm not standing for Parliament and I haven't had both hands amputated. No, not one big reason, but lots of little 'uns.

While this was never anywhere near being a Premier League blog, it was perhaps a contender in one of the minor divisions. May's figures were the best yet (barring the Paul Clarke twitterstorm lunacy) with over 62,000 views - more than 2,000 a day. Over 460,000 views in just over a year. I'm quite proud of that.

But it takes time to get to that - posting every day, even on weekends, and more recently, posting twice per day. 82 posts in May. 286 in 2010, and 614 in total. And that's when the blog turns into a hungry baby bird, beak always open.

It all gets a bit Groundhog Day-ish; when you start to scour the news websites with not a clue what to post about, but with a conviction that you must, must write something, you know things aren't quite right.

And when your first thought on booking a holiday is not about the hire car but about the automatic posts for while you're away, you know the tail has begun to wag the dog.

And when you realise that, actually, you're not going to change the world - or indeed anything - by blogging, and that you've always known that, and that you're probably really only doing it because you like the sound of your own voice, then you wonder if its all not a tad self-indulgent.

So, all in all, time to stop.

Who knows, maybe I won't be able to stay away. Maybe a break will make me feel differently, and I'll return to the fray refreshed. Maybe.

I'm not going to delete the blog, or switch off comments, or ignore emails to CF, or indeed change anything. It'll all still be sitting here, until perhaps one day Google decide to reclaim the server space.

Regardless, many thanks to all who took the time to read the blog, to comment, to debate and to strenuously agree or disagree with each post. Thanks also to those kind enough to link to or to tweet the posts they liked, and thanks to those who put Constantly Furious on their blogrolls.

I've really enjoyed meeting all of you - most of you online, a few of you face-to-face - and perhaps I will again one day.

Until then, thanks and goodbye.

CF


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Perhaps it's love. It's certainly something pretty fucking odd: CF finds himself in the unlikely, nay, bizarre position of agreeing with that git Alastair Campbell twice in two days.

Having already nodded approvingly at Bad Al's views regarding David Law's Gaygate debacle, CF was interested to learn, via John Rentoul, of Campbell's detestation of a man we all detest, would-be King of Next Labour, Ed 'Blinky' Balls. As Rentoul says, here are the highlights:

26 April 1995: Ed Balls "drivelled on endlessly". Blair said afterwards that he "only wanted grown-ups to attend his meetings".

16 July 1996: Balls was "full of bile" about Blair.

6 November 1996: "Ed Balls spoke drivel, a never-ending collection of words that just ran into each other and became devoid of meaning."

It's a dilemma, isn't it? On the one hand, no-one should believe a fucking word that git Campbell says. On the other hand, it's quite obvious that that's exactly what that other git Balls is like.

Both Labour, both gits.

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It had been widely thought that David Laws was 'outed' as both an expenses trougher and a homosexualist by the Telegraph at the start of the weekend.

But CF is in a position to reveal that in fact, the Telegraph had announced poor David's sexual preference - in a not-very-subtle coded message - to a largely disinterested world a long, long time prior to this. As early, in fact, as the 6th of July 2009:

 

Remember, you heard it here first.

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CF takes little or no interest in football himself, but he has just been informed by some excitable people - who have painted their faces white and red for some reason - that 'our' team, the team called Ing-er-Laand, have just completed a heroic victory over the fiendish Japanese team.

Judging by their excitement, Japan must be a mighty footballing nation. Perhaps the mightiest. After all, the Japanese invented fireworks, and rice, and the printing press, so perhap they also invented Sok-Ker. Who knows?

So, does that mean that the World Cup is over, then? CF thought it finished with some penalties, then lots of fat people crying in pubs. Perhaps not, this time.

Did we win?

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Alastair Campbell is a loathsome human being. He's probably been a major behind-the-scenes player in David Laws' demise - you wouldn't put it past the bastard, would you?

However, CF is forced, grudgingly, to admit that Campbell's take on G-g-g-gaygate is not totally, utterly wrong:

".. I feel some personal sympathy for Laws .. but none for David Cameron and Nick Clegg, who both milked the expenses scandal for all it was worth .. If there is one good thing to come out of this, it might make them feel less prone to mount a high horse whenever a bandwagon is passing."

So as they now try to turn this from a story of expenses to a story of a human tragedy - which it is - do not forget it is also a story about leadership. If Laws, in Cameron and Clegg's eyes, did nothing wrong - and their statements would suggest that is their basic take - and if he is so brilliant, then they might have put up more of a fight to keep him"

The detestable git is not wrong, is he? Bad Al also has some words of wisdom for Cleggy:

"Clegg should use this to take stock. He came third in the election. He did not do as well as he or anyone else expected him to. Yet he is now deputy PM. That is beginning to rankle with a few people, and requires him to strike a slightly different tone.

"So calm down a bit, Nick. Underclaim and over deliver. When you go around saying a ragbag of constitutional proposals .. represents the biggest change since the Great Reform Act .. people start to wonder whether you are not inhaling your own propaganda too much."

Well, yeah...

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Much squealing, wailing and moaning in the Blogosphere and the Twitterverse about poor little David Laws, a man who has plunged from hero to zero in the space of a few hours.

There's also a lot of bickering about the rights and wrongs of the whole shambles, dominated by the pink elephant in the room: "is it because he is a gayer?".

Of course it fucking isn't. An expenses trougher is an expenses trougher, regardless of which end he bowls from. See picture to the right for details.

This furore is absolutely bugger all (oops) to do with Laws' sexuality and everything to do - as always in the ol' expenses scandals - about a genuine deadly sin: Greed.

If 'Genius' Laws had not wanted anybody looking too closely at his 'private' life, wouldn't he have been much better off not asking us, the taxpayers, to fucking well fund it?

He's supposedly a very successful banker - could he have just worn the costs himself? Was his little 'secret' not worth that much? Or did he just think he'd never be rumbled?

Surely, if you ask the we, the taxpayers, to pay for something, then we, the taxpayers, might well wonder what the fuck that something is?

Whereas if you don't ask we, the taxpayers, to pay for something, then it really is none of our, the taxpayers', fucking business?

And if you want your domestic arrangements - whatever they are - kept secret, for any reason then .. well .. duh!

Or is CF missing something here?

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There are no babies in the CF household - at least not as far as CF is aware. All the former babies have grown into drunken Facebook monkeys.

Mind you, it'd almost be worth bringing another little person into this world, if only to see the look on their little chubby face when you offered them this:

Bacon flavoured baby milk? Genius.

Nom nom nom nom.

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Well, well, here's a surprise. Just when we thought the BBC must have run out of ways to bore and infuriate us, they find another.

Apparently, the BBC have decided that they don't gouge enough money from black 'n' white telly-watching pensioners, or from fifty inch plasma-watching benefit claimants, to pay both Jonathan Ross and Chris Evans the tens of millions they so richly deserve.

No. They need more money to pour into those ever-open motor mouths. They want people looking at the Internet to cough up too. For fuck's sake.

So, they've decided that a TV licence (145 quid, please) is legally required if anyone watches TV programmes online at the same time as they are shown on television. What? Yes.

And if we're doing this at work - during the World Cup, for example - and the Dimbleby Tax hasn't been paid, the employer may be held liable and fined up to £1,000.

Oh BBC, do fuck off, would you?

But they won't: they're really keen to get their sweaty hands on this extra money. The authorities which govern TV licensing have said:

"..officers will be out patrolling during the World Cup, visiting business premises identified as unlicensed".

Yeah? On who's authority are you going to bust into our offices in the middle of the working day, eh? We've got a lot of confidential data on our systems, and we're not going to have some jumped up traffic warden scrolling up 'n' down looking at it.

We don't allow anyone unauthorised access to our computers, and that includes you, BBC 'officers'. So why don't you get in your little vans, and fuck off back to Shepherd's Bush, eh? Can't you see we're watching the footie?

Jon Shaw, TV Licensing spokesman, said:

“Some managers might assume if they don't have a TV in the building, they don't need to worry, but the rise of online TV means many more businesses need to be covered by a TV licence. We'd rather businesses think ahead and check if they need a licence than risk a court case and a fine.”

Yeah? Here's a message for you, Mr Shaw:

Fuck. Right. Off.

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The last Labour government were often accused of building a gigantic welfare state, creating vast armies of dependents, but until they were hounded from office, and someone else could go through the books, we didn't know to what extent.

Well, we do now, and guess what? It's to a fucking huge extent.

According to a report from the Department for Work and Pensions, over 50,000 households were allowed to claim benefits worth over £26,000 a year. The average Briton is paid £25,500 annually. For fuck's sake.

Of course, to screw all that cash out of the state, two adults in a family would have to claim incapacity benefits, council tax benefit and housing benefit. But, hey, why wouldn't they? It's all there, a lovely big pot of money to delve into. Help yourselves! Just don't try to lift to many bundles of notes at once, you might make that bad back worse.

They'd also have to have three or more children, and claim child benefit and tax credits. But again, why the fuck not? Why not have 3,4, 5, fuck it, 10 children, if the state is going to automatically provide additional teats for them suckle on?

Don't you remember this woman? The one who had 11 - yes, eleven - kids, by five different blokes over 25 years, and for virtually all of that time lived on benefits? The one who costs us 39 grand a year? The one who considers us spending 80 quid a month on mobile phones and 55 quid a month on Sky is merely providing her with "essentials". Remember her?

Well, we know now that there are tens of thousands out there exactly like her. Dear God.

The bad news rolls on and on: the report also disclosed the amount of public money spent on housing benefit rose by nearly 40 per cent in 2009/10, to £14.2billion. Sweet Jesus, 14.2 billion pounds, just to provide these 'not-workers' with somewhere to sit and watch Sky Sports on their plasmas.

And there's more: for a couple of years, all new claimants for incapacity benefit have been given medicals to see if they able to go to work. Guess what? Nine out of 10 new - also known as 'nearly all' - applicants were either fit for work or could be "moved towards rejoining the workforce".

These same tests have not yet been carried out on the existing 2.6 million incapacity benefits claimants. So there's probably well over 2 million people who need to stop pretending to have a bad back (Monday to Friday only -football at the weekend), and get their arses back to work.

Fucking hell, Coalition, you've got a job to do here.

Better get on with it...

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Even the most ardent supporter of Libertarian principles must admit that sometimes - just sometimes - some Libertarians can possibly, perhaps, maybe come across a bit like this:

Perhaps...

As our New Coalition Overlords (copyright The Devil) struggle to get to grips with the gigantic mess left by Wrecker Brown and his merry band of wastrels, they discover endless examples of waste and inefficiency.

And the National Audit Office, the government spending watchdog, has just sunk its teeth into another one.

The Quango 'Sport England' - aren't you irritated already? Don't you just know where this is going? - was given 660 million pounds of our money, to acheive the absolutely vital, entirely fucking essential goal of increasing the numbers of women, black and Asian people and disabled people playing sport by 3 per cent.

Yeah, that's what we all wanted; that was our shared dream wasn't it?

And did they succeed? Surely they did. After all, with 660 million to spend, surely you just offer each target a large bribe - or a couple of pies - to kick a ball about every now and then?

Nope. They failed. Of course. The NAO found that:

"although the total number of adults doing sport increased .. the proportion did not increase among the groups targeted with the money"

Oh for fuck's sake. The NAO went on to say, with admirable restraint:

"In consequence, a positive conclusion by the NAO on value for money up to 2008 was not possible."

Which an overly polite way of saying 'They fucked up completely! They wasted hundreds of millions of pounds! What tossers!'

One of the reasons for this abject failure was because Sport England completely failed to keep track of how the cash – which was given to groups like the Community Sports Coach Scheme, National Sports Foundation and Sports Aid - was spent. Oh dear God.

But, unabashed, Sport England picked themselves up, dusted themselves off and replaced the scheme with a new target to encourage one million adults to do “three 30 minute sessions of moderate intensity sport a week” by 2013. Thanks, Nanny just what we needed.

But of course, they needed more money - the last lot had mysteriously vanished. So they were given another 480 million pounds. And is this new programme working out? No. Although it's early days, so far they haven't hit their forecast targets.

So, we've got a Quango that's squandered 660 million on some deluded fuckwittery, unsuccessfully , and is merrily spending another 480 million having another go.

Well over a billion quid, totally, utterly wasted. A perfect example of how the last Government gaily pissed our money up every fucking wall in sight, and how the money was just so plentiful, so easy to get a slice of, that the lucky recipients didn't even fucking bother to track where it went.

When are we going to light the fucking bonfire of the Quangos? Sport England can be right on top.

Shut them down, for fucks sake. Shut it all down. Do it now.

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CF's middle daughter, CFette #2, took her Chemistry GCSE today.

Naturally, she was asked by her proud Daddy how she'd got got on, and what the paper had contained. And what a revelation that was.

One of the early questions was as follows (concentrate - here comes the Science bit): 

What fluid is used in the home for drinking and washing?

The possible answers - yes, of course this was multiple choice - were as follows:

Water, Copper, Salt or Soap? 

For. Fuck's. Sake.

++ Update ++  This story is being challenged in certain places as being yet another urban myth. But it's not. It was a question in the GCSE Chemistry C3 paper, sat yesterday morning. Obviously, the papers were handed back in, so the wording may not be exactly correct, but that was the question, and those were the possible answers. Hard to believe, but true.
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With The Times going pay-per-view, and many journalists considering blogging as an additional sideline, it's useful to know how to write about international events, particularly crises, in a concise and readable manner.

Step forward Alan Beattie, who has written a piece of reportage that makes vital reading for us all. Here it is, (minus a couple of Americanisms):

"By reporters everywhere

An ineffectual international organisation yesterday issued a stark warning about a situation it has absolutely no power to change, the latest in a series of self-serving interventions by toothless intergovernmental bodies.

“We are seriously concerned about this most serious outbreak of seriousness,” said the head of the institution, either a former minister from a developing country or a mid-level European or American bureaucrat. “This is a wake-up call to the world. They must take on board the vital message that my organisation exists.”

The director of the body, based in an agreeable Western European city, was speaking at its annual conference, at which ministers from around the world gather to wring their hands impotently about the most fashionable issue of the day. The organisation has sought to justify its almost completely fruitless existence by joining its many fellow talking-shops in highlighting whatever crisis has recently gained most coverage in the global media.

“Governments around the world must come together to combat whatever this year’s worrying situation has turned out to be,” the director said. “It is not yet time to panic, but if it goes on much further without my institution gaining some credit for sounding off on the issue, we will be justified in labelling it a crisis.”

The organisation, whose existence the Government barely acknowledges and to which hardly any member government intends to give more money or extra powers, has long been fighting a war of attrition against its own irrelevance. By making a big deal out of the fact that the world’s most salient topical issue will be placed on its agenda and then issuing a largely derivative annual report on the subject, it hopes to convey the entirely erroneous impression that it has any influence whatsoever on the situation.

The intervention follows a resounding call to action in the communiqué of the Group of [number goes here] countries at their recent summit in a remote place no-one had previously heard of. The G[number goes here] meeting was preceded by the familiar interminable and inconclusive discussions about whether the G[number goes here] was sufficiently representative of the international community, or whether it should be expanded into a G[number plus 1, 2 or higher goes here] including China, India or any other scary emerging market country that attendees cared to name.

The story was given further padding by a study from an ambulance-chasing think-tank, which warned that it would continue to convene media conference calls until its quixotic and politically suicidal plan to ameliorate whatever crisis was gathering had been given respectful though substantially undeserved attention"

See? Very straightforward. Use it early, use it often. Off you go...

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Some promising ideas in Mrs Queen's speech yesterday, not least those leading to the 'rolling back' of the Nanny State. Bye Nanny! Don't let the door hit your arse on the way out, will you?

But let's not get too excited about that just yet. There's a bigger elephant in the room, or more actually, there are PIGS in the room. What about the euro crisis? what about the E-word? What about Europe?

Cleggy's very pro the superstate, CallMeDave doesn't know what he thinks, but many Tories would happily pull up the drawbridge and turn their backs on the frogs, the krauts and the lazy wops and dagos.

So how was this mixture of views reflected in the Queen's speech? As the Telegraph puts it :

"A European Union Bill will "increase democratic and parliamentary control, scrutiny and accountability over EU decision making". No further powers will be transferred from theUnited Kingdom to Brussels without a national vote, known as "referendum lock".

Britain will not join the euro currency without a referendum, and major modification of EU treaties would need fresh legislation.

The Government will also "examine the case" for a United Kingdom Sovereignty Bill, which would state formally that ultimate authority remains in this country rather than the EU"

So, in summary still no further 'in', still no further 'out', and a bit of vague head-scratching about what to do next. A coalition compromise.

But it's all too fucking late anyway,: well, according to Christopher Booker, it is.

"We have still scarcely begun to wake up to the gravity of the crisis now upon us, not just for the eurozone but also for us here in Britain and for the entire global economy. The measures so far taken to prop up the collapsing euro, such as that famous "$1 trillion package", are no more than gestures."

Shit. So, how did we come to this?

"What we are witnessing here is a judgment on the entire deceitful and self-deceiving way in which the "European project" has been assembled over the past 53 years. One of the most important things to understand about that project is that it has only ever had one real agenda ..

by far the most important project of all was locking the member states into a single currency."

But we're not in the single currency, are we, so we're (relatively) safe, right? Isn't this crisis the rich Eurozone countries problem: Germany's problem, France's problem? Well. Frau Merkel needs a cash, a lot of cash, and she's got an idea on where she might get it..

"..calling last week for a "global" tax on financial transactions to raise 321 billion euros a year Europe-wide – 204 billion euros of which would come from Britain, still the world's leading financial centre, with 43 billion euros from Germany and just 17 billion euros from France.

Oh for fuck's sake. We're stuck half-in, half-out, and even though we didn't have a starter or a pudding, it looks like we're going to have to pay for everyone's pizza, pasta, sardines and Greek salads.

So what are the Coalition going to do about this? There's nothing in the Queen's speech. What does Booker think?

"As alarming as anything, with this tsunami roaring down on us, has been the sight of our new leaders preening themselves with their list of irrelevant little "coalition policies" and babyish boasts about the "greatest democratic shake-up since the 1832 Reform Act", as if none of this was happening."

Suddenly the scrapping of ID cards seems a little less relevant.

Oh fuck.

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The House was crammed for the Queen's speech today. MP's of every affiliation poured in, some sitting on unfamiliar benches, some sitting on the green leather for the very first time.

But, as Subrosa points out, there was one noticeable absentee: the Dishonourable Member for Kirkcaldy and Cowdenbeath, better known as former Prime Minister Gordon McBroon.

Now, if there was one thing Gordon Maccavity Broon was famous for, it was vanishing when the going got tough.

Where's the Chancellor? Dunno. Anyone seen the PM recently? Nope.

So it's hardly astonishing that Gordon felt a little trepidation about taking a seat in the midst of a party that hates him, opposite a man he hates.

And it is with mixed emotions that CF surveys the situation.

On the one hand: aren't we all glad to see the back of the mendacious one-eyed imbecile? Isn't it just absolutely lovely not to see his slack grey face gurning across the Commons? Wouldn't it be just super if we never clapped eyes on the devious git ever again?

But, but, but, on the other hand: hang on a fucking minute. He's still an MP isn't he? The people of Kirkcaldy and Cowdenbeath - for reasons that we'll never, ever understand - not only re-elected him but actually increased his majority.

So, we're still paying him, he still works for us, and he has a fucking duty to turn up for work, not matter how 'awkward' , how beneath him or how un-lovable he might find it.

Should we dock his pay? Should we give him a written warning?

Or should the bastard be fired?


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The normally dull commute in London King's Cross this morning was marginally enlivened by the appearance of Harry Potter's choice of commute, the Hogwart's express.

Now, other than a slighty unhealthy interest in Hermoine Grainger, CF normally has little time for JK Rowling's multi-billion pound merchandising empire, especially since the silly bitch gave a million quid of our kids' pocket money to the Labour party.

So he did not join the throng gawping and snapping away with their camera 'phones. Initially.

However, within seconds, two station employees had turned up, pushing commuters down the platform, slapping ineffectually at camera 'phones and shouting commands. "No photography is permitted", "Stop taking photographs", "Photograph is forbidden here". A couple of PCSO's began to trot up the platform, presumably to arrest anyone daring to get a snapshot to show their kids.

So what was CF to do?

Here, for your delectation, are a couple of very-much-unofficial, possibly illegally obtained, and slight blurred photo's of the Hogwart's Express:

 

Be careful when you look at them: you might be aiding and abetting the breaking of several laws...

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When you're only 10 years old, you don't usually have a proper signature. After all, you don't really need one. You can't have a credit card, you can't take out a mortgage, and you can't write a cheque, if even you actually know what one of those soon-to-be-historical items is.

But from now on, kiddies, you'd better practice your signature. Go on, get a piece a paper and decide how it's going to look. Have a practice scribble.

After all, you might well need it - even though you're only ten, you might need to sign the Sex Offenders Register. Yes, really.

Two ten year olds were yesterday found gulity of 'attempted rape' and made to do exactly that. As he ordered them to sign the sex offenders register, the judge Mr Justice Saunders said:

"I am not quite sure how it applies to children of this age."

Well, exactly. It's a fucking mockery. Will these two ten year olds be refused permission to work with other children, do you think? Will they be banned from swimming lessons in case they try to shag their classmates? For fuck's sake.

And given that is meaningless to get them to sign the register, Your Honour, why the fuck are you ordering them to do so? Are you just a helpless puppet, giving instructions with which you don't agree? Or are you a supposedly wise and experience member of the judiciary?

And not just some minor league player in Colchester either - this case was heard at the Old Bailey, for fucks sake. Why subject three kids to the Old Bailey, and a full on Jury trial?

Is there any chance it was a fair trial? The judge doesn't think so. He said, during the trial:

"I don’t think anyone who has sat through this trial would think for a moment that the system that we employ is ideal ..  we have a witness who said one thing and has now said completely the opposite

... if you had an adult witness who said what this girl said the Crown would not be proceeding"

But he didn't tell the Jury that. Oh no. And he allowed the case to proceed? Oh yes. Speaking about the trial after the verdict was delivered, the poor, helpless judge added

"I will at some stage be sending my views about the procedure to those who are most concerned with it."

Whoa! That'll put the fear of god into a few people, won't it? The knowledge that you 'will at some stage' share your views with some people. When? Who?

The Jury, who were given a majority direction by this poor, helpless judge, was not told that the judge had admitted to having misgivings about allowing the case to go ahead.

Admitted to having misgivings? Well why did you go ahead, you twat? CF aint no legal expert, but it seems unlikely that you absolutely had to try this case, that you weren't allowed to share your misgivings until after you'd gone through with the whole damn thing.

If that were the case, what the fuck is the judge for, for Christ's sake?

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Two contrasting stories regarding the Militant Snack Vendors of British Airways - seen here exercising their god-given right to wander around in the lovely sunshine on full pay - today.

The first, from Socialist Worker is ... errrr ... slightly on the side of the MSV's:

"“I’m absolutely disgusted with the management,” said Paul, who had returned from a long-haul flight on Monday morning and come straight to the picket line.

“The atmosphere is horrible. They intimidate us all the time..

"Walsh has cut cabin crew numbers without negotiation with the union. He wants to attack workers’ pay and conditions and bring in a new fleet of workers on lower pay and with fewer rights.

Life is already hard for BA cabin crew.

“I used to love working here,” said Claire. “But the other day I was sat waiting for take-off and I thought, ‘what am I doing here?’ I’ve never felt like this before.

The right wing media and the Tory government blame cabin crew for this dispute. In reality Walsh has pursued it because he wants to smash the workers.

Everyone is watching the battle at BA. If workers win, against one of the most vicious, bullying bosses in Britain, it will show workers everywhere that they can fight back.

A victory could turn the tide against the bosses and the Tories’ offensive. Trade unionists must waste no time in rushing support and solidarity to the strikers.

Oh dearie, dearie, dear. Those poor wee lambs.

The second, in the Times and provocatively entitled "Why should BA’s cabin crew be paid more than nurses?", could perhaps to be said to be more against than for:

"Apart from MPs, has any group’s reputation plummeted as fast as that of air stewardesses? Within a generation they have gone from being sophisticated glamour girls to a bunch of moody Trotskyites.

BA’s cabin staff have not even begun to understand that the airline industry is no longer an officially sanctioned cartel, where governments fixed prices and staff lived a cushioned existence

BA cabin crew average earnings work out at £603 per week. What occupation would they like to be compared with? Travel and tour guides — whose median earnings according to the Office for National Statistics’ annual survey of hours and earnings 2009 stood at £267 per week? Waiters and waitresses (£237)? Leisure and other personal service occupations (£341)?

BA cabin crew even earn more than nurses (£581) and are not far short of engineering professionals (£683). Can anyone come up with a convincing argument why the people who serve coffee on board an aircraft should be paid almost as much as the people who keep it in the air?"

CF knows which one he's more inclined to believe. How about you?

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Today's the day. The day when, regardless of how glorious it might look out of the window, the weather is going to get a lot worse for certain people.

Storm clouds are forming, and a chill wind is going to blow through Whitehall, and through the sumptuously appointed offices of Quangos up and down the land.

Yes, today's the day that the Boy George Osborne, and his sidekick David Laws, will pick up their axes, check the blades for sharpness, and begin to whirl them around their heads. Let the cuts begin.

Naturally, the bleating from the Unions and from their wholly owned political party NextLabour, or whatever they're called this week, has already begun: Liam Byrne, he of the hilarious 'no money left' joke, frets:

"Our fear is that the coalition has embarked on the wrong way to bring [the deficit] down by cutting back too early and taking a risk with the economy, but second by hitting the investment that business needs to shift into manufacturing and train local workers for new jobs."

Way to go Liam! You got just about every buzzword going into that little sound bite. 'risk with the economy', 'investment', 'local workers', 'new jobs'. You missed out 'hardworking families', but otherwise, a good solid soundbite.

But anyway, Liam, do fuck off. What the fuck do you know about it? If you knew what should be done, why didn't you do it? Or if you did do it, it clearly wasn't the right thing to do, was it?

So, what are these cuts, these cuts that even Cleggy admits will be "unpopular and controversial"?

Well there's a recruitment freeze for civil servants. Well, duh. Next?

Savings from discretionary spending, which includes consultancy, travel, office furnishing and advertising, are expected to reach more than £1bn. Excellent.

Consultancy we don't need to pay for, and CF will be glad if he never, ever sees or hears another Government - or rather, taxpayer - funded advertisement again. What else?

According to The Tories, quango spending has risen by nearly £10bn - ten fucking billion - in the past few years. Bonfire of the quangos! Bring it on.

So budgets for quangos are set to fall by more than £500m, with bodies such as the 'Qualifications and Curriculum Development Agency' - which oversees the national curriculum - and the 'Young Persons Learning Agency' facing big cutbacks or even closure. And will we miss 'em? Will we fuck. Keep it coming..

The budget of the Department for Business, Innovation and Skills is set to fall by £700m, with "significant cuts" to regional development agencies in the south of England. Bravo. Never understood what the fucking useless things were for in the first place. Shut 'em down completely, we won't even notice.

And there's more: spending across Whitehall on travel, equipment and consultancy services is likely to be slashed, IT projects put on hold, procurement contracts re-negotiated and government buildings rationalised. Great. Get on with it then.

It's tempting to call this a good start, until you do a bit of the maths: cuts of £6bn, drastic through they sound, amount to  a 0.8% reduction in overall government expenditure

What? 0.8%? Less than 1% 'slashed' from Government expenditure?

Oh, for fucks sake, that's not enough. Pick those axes up again, boys.

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We all somehow tolerate oddly-shaped Rod Liddle, the 'voice of everyman'. The bloke who's apparently 'not afraid to say what other blokes are thinking'. Or something.

Personally, CF thinks he's a drooling arse, probably struggling to compensate for years of bullying at some god-forsaken primary school in the arse-end of nowhere.

Liddle must be highly thought of, or well connected, or something, because he seems to be allowed to churn out his witless drivellings for the Spectator, the Sunday Times and diverse other publications that should really know better.

However, some relief this Sunday: the wet-lipped glass-half-empty merchant is away, and he's been - in the Sunday Times at least - replaced by everyone's favourite drive-by baboon shooter, Mr AA Gill.

Gill may be a stuttering, posh, dyslexic metrosexual ninny, but boy can that man turn a phrase.

On our 'new' Olympic mascots, 'Wenlock and Mandeville':

"They are in fact named for Much Wenlock, a town that was home to an unknown Englishman who suggested Olympian games .. and Stoke Mandeville, the hospital where drunk ex-motorcyclists go to get fitted with head wands and bibs."

On Mick Jagger's suggestion that we have a 'trial' for legalising drugs by selecting a community, like the Isle of Man: 

"..the Isle of Man, an inspired choice. If it all goes wrong, and they become a hopelessly addicted, criminal cesspit, who’d care? .. I have never been anywhere that would be more improved by a glut of class A substances .. Bring on the crack."

On Diana Abbott, everyone's favourite potential Labour leader:

"Diane is our very own Carry On version of Obama. What I find particularly winning is her gracious habit of closing her eyes when talking down to us.

When asked by Andrew Neil if sending her child to a public school might perhaps lose her votes with the left wing of her party, she replied, eyes tight shut, fingers dabbling, that it was hard being a single mother"

Enjoy your holiday, Rod. Oh and Rod: don't rush back.

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Ah, what a grand day. Top tip: if you live within an hour or so of a seaside resort - Old Hunstanton in CF's case - get out of bed good 'n' early on a Sunday, and race up there while the roads are quiet.

CF left Cambridge at 7:15, and was paddling in the warm shallows, while the dogs chased seagulls across an empty beach, by just after 8:30.

By the time the nasty grockles were turning up and were getting on with inflating various florescent monstrosities for their chronically overweight, terminally spoiled and endlessly grizzling children, CF and family were enjoying pre-made bacon butties and a thermos of tea, fuelling up for the trip home.

Driving away from a seaside resort is a huge pleasure when you're heading in exactly the opposite direction to a huge, hours-long queue of frustrated would-be beach goers. Ahahahahaha!

So, no politics, no fury, and only one use of the phrase 'for fuck's sake' (and we're past that now).

Normal service will be resumed tomorrow..

.

.. we can finally enjoy some good weather. After 13 years of Labour rain, of trade union-induced fog, and authoratarian leftist snow, we're back into the glorious sunshine.

No more will Brown and his spin doctors make it rain on a bank holiday, just to piss us off. No more will the biased Met Office promise us a barbecue summer, just to boost Labour in the polls.

CF is off to spend the day on the beaches of North Norfolk, having spent yesterday bobbing about on the River Cam.

What are the Coalition up to?

Who cares, right now?

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One of the many ghastly legacies of Labour's 13 years of inept, authoritarian misrule was the decline in our liberties.

Nanny is now everywhere, telling us how to behave, and what we should think. She keeps her beady eye on us too: we're the officially the world's number one nation for CCTV. Thanks for that, Labour.

But other countries across the world are making an effort to keep up with us. Australia has performed particularly well in this race, and may even be edging ahead with their latest initiative.

Yes, it's yet another sad day for our liberties when we learn that Australian customs officers have been given new powers to search incoming travellers' laptops and mobile phones for pornography. What the fuck? Yup, it's real:

"..a new question appears on Incoming Passenger Cards asking people if they are carrying "pornography".

And if you should tell a naughty fib? Won't help. Customs officials now have..

".. an unfettered right to examine travellers' electronic devices"

Oh, so they get unfettered rights, to trample all over ours? Dear God.

What next? What happens if, during the flight to Sydney, CF dozes off and has a particularly fruity dream involving Gemma Arterton, that ginger bird off of Doctor Who and a bottle of baby oil.? Will he have to confess all to the customs officer? For fucks' sake.

Under the last, all-too-recent, thank-Christ-it's-over, authoritarian Labour government, we could have glumly expected exactly the same legislation to be enacted here. It's already happened on the Eurostar, many years ago, so it wouldn't be hard to extend to the airports. Perhaps the show-em-nude, todger-detecting x-ray scannners could be upgraded to read hard discs as well?

Let's hope the Coalition boys are all too busy...

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Being a man of a certain age, CF still retains fond memories of many of the 'real', proper, original video games.

Space Invaders, Asteroids: ohhh, those were the days. To this very day, CF could whup you, and your sorry ass, at the game of Defender. 

Can't you just hear the little squeak when the humanoids got picked up? Doesn't your hair stand on end at the sound of the terrifying 'Baiter' appearing at the end of a protracted level?

So, it was inevitable that CF would experience a surge of nostagia, a lump in his throat, and a twitch in his joystick, to see what those boys at Google have done today:

Recognising that today's the 30th (what? For fuck's sake) anniversary of Pacman, they've not only amended their homepage, but .. oh this is good .. they've made it playable. Never mind all the synthetic cell shit: this is really clever.

Get over there. Play it. Enjoy it. 

For the full experience, imagine you're in a nasty flat-roofed pub on the outskirts of Bury St. Edmunds, an illegal pint of cider getting steadily warmer beside you, as you work your way through a pile of the old, large, ten pence pieces.

No, no, it's just something in my eye...

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As we sift through the smoking wreckage of this once-great nation, wondering where our liberties have gone, we can at least take one crumb of comfort.

We're still number one at something! Mind you, everyone is, according to David MacCandless, over here. He's built this great diagram, 'International Number Ones' which shows what every nation in the in the world can proudly claim to be 'number one' at:

Botswana has the most diamonds; Peru has the most butterflies; France has more sugar beet than anyone else; no-one has as many figs as Turkey, and Burma is number one for Rubies.

Iceland has the most female graduates, South Korea has the most web users and Paraguay is number one for hydroelectricity.


And what of us? This sceptred isle? Where do we top the tables? What are we number one at? Squint carefully; what does it say?

CCTV.

Oh.

Says it all, really.

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Well done, Unite, you self-interested clique of imbeciles. Well done Derek Simpson, you pointless rabble-rouser.

Well done you mindless snack-vending sheep. A famous courtroom victory: you've 'won'; you've got your strike.

Now you can fully exercise your sacrosanct fucking rights to ruin your employer's business.Go on, teach Willie Walsh a lesson. With a bit of luck, he'll eventually lose his job - you'd like that, wouldn't you?

Willie can't keep the business profitable if you're all sunbathing in your own gardens, rather than sunbathing free of charge on a layover in Mauritius. Yeah, keep this up and he could be fired, and he'd have to either take another hugely well paid job or retire with all his millions. And that'll learn him, won't it? You morons.

But do get on with your strikes, won't you? Make sure you've made your point of principle clear, whatever it fucking well is. Never mind if you destroy the value of the business that pays you.

Go on, make sure that families never take the risk of having their half-tem ruined by booking their travel with BA - force 'em to all go with Easyjet.

Make sure that businesses never choose BA as their preferred carrier, because they can't be sure their staff will even make it to their meetings overseas. Let Air France ferry our eeevil bankers over the Atlantic.

Make sure that nobody in their right minds chooses to fly BA when there are other options available.

If you can strike frequently enough, and disrupt everything often enough, then perhaps you could even drive your employer into bankruptcy, or into the arms of the state. Perhaps the goverment will choose to prop up the 'too big to fail' national carrrier, and you can all become employees of the state, just at the time when state spending is being cut to the bone.

But, whatever you do, snack vendors, make sure you stick to your guns. After all, there important principles at stake here. Your perks, your freebie flights, are a basic human right, aren't they? Why should you forfeit them just because you keep trying to harm your employers business?

Don't worry about us - we'll go on holiday with Ryanair. We won't enjoy it much, but we'll get there, flying over your stupid empty heads as you picket Terminal 1 at Heathrow.

And then, when we see you in two years time, still serving snacks, but this time on the ground, in MacDonalds, you can be proud - you stood up for something important. You brought down a mighty corporation, you WON.

Just do whatever you want, and fuck the consequences, eh?

Oh, you are.

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The BBC has given the Coalition government's endlessly fascinating antics blanket coverage ever since the two-headed, many-armed beast was born.

Even the minor kerfuffle caused by a lot of excitable fragrant rice merchants setting fire to everything and slaying one another seems have been demoted to the bottom of the page on Beeb's news front page.

Even the fact that BP are doing the mega-eco equivalent of pissing like an energetic horse into the Gulf of Mexico can only be found on the 'International' section.

But, in spite of this single-mindedness, it seems someone at Aunty is bored, perhaps pissed off at the attention that the Blue 'n' Yellers are getting. How else to explain this?

What? Clegg's nearly-bloody-historical speech the other day, Cambo's slick presentation today. The BBC hails it as a 'Radical' coalition deal, and what's the next key point? 

"Radical Coalition Deal Unveiled .. Home Info Packs Scrapped".

Are they taking the piss?

.

So prudish German Chancellor Angela Merkel is desperate to ban the slightly saucy-sounding practice of naked short selling.

What's all the fuss? What are those excitable Germans on about?

Well, it being the exam season, and revision being underway, let's work through an example.

Let's imagine we're running a small business, the sole purpose of which is to buy and sell soft fruit. This week, we will be mostly dealing in bananas. Just as in the City, and in the Frankfurt markets, all we need to do to retire wealthy is to buy low, sell high.

Supposing CF and his friends think that the price of bananas might be about to go up Perhaps some photos of Lady Gaga doing something unspeakably erotic with a banana are about to be published, creating a huge demand for bananas among the young, trendy and sexually liberated.

In that case, we might pop out and buy a shed load of 'nanas at today's low prices, then flog them at the newly increased price when Gaga's 'Hello' magazine spread hits the newsstands.

But, on the other hand, supposing CF and his friends thought that the price of bananas might go down? Perhaps some other photos, of one of those Millband boys doing something unspeakably pathetic with a banana are about be published, ensuring that no right-thinking person will ever been seen holding a banana ever again.

In this case, the price is going down, and we can only buy low after we've sold high. Tricky. So what we'll do this time is enter into an agremeent with some poor fool who doesn't know about the Millband photo horror. We'd have to ask him to wait for the bananas until next week, because we can't buy 'em until the price goes low, and he'd have to agree on a price now - the higher current price - and stick to it.

So, we've got a deal. Someone has agreed to pay us a quid for the 'nana's next week, and we believe we'll be able to pick 'em up for 20p in a couple of days time. Buy low, sell high.

And that, in a nutshell - or in a banana skin - is 'short selling'. And because CF and his imaginary colleagues can't borrow or steal the bananas, they're selling them before they've bought 'em: that's 'naked short selling'

Of course, CF is taking a risk that these photos don't get published, or that they won't have the desired affect on the price. If the price of bananas actually goes up as a result of the boy Milliband endorsement, CF is going to lose money - he's obliged to deliver 'nanas at the agreed price, and has to buy them regardless of their actual price. But, hey, that's Casino Capitalism, right there, That's the risk CF takes, over and over again, to make a soft-fruit-related living,

Those of you who are still awake will note one obvious aspect of this: at no stage in the imaginary proceedings did anything CF did affect the bloody price of the bloody bananas. CF has made a profit, in both examples, by anticpating the price of bananas, and acting upon it, but he didn't actually change the price himself, did he?

Any more than those nasty hedge funds, and those eeevil bankers affected the stock valuations of banks or the value of the Euro.

So, what the fuck are you on about, Angela?

.

The nation - or rather the small part of the nation that is remotely interested in our ultimate fate, in what's going to happen to us over the next five years, rather than TV's 'Strictly Come Out of Here' with Anton Dick - waits with bated breath for the release of the Coalition agreement document - the manifesto of the Blue 'n' Yellow party.

In 30 gripping pages, this roller coaster of emotion ("once I'd put it down, I couldn't pick it up again") will tell us in detail how the two parties have compromised to cobble together a new manifesto. A manifesto that none of us saw - because it didn't exist - before we voted. A manifesto that, even we had been able to see, we could not have voted for. That's what we'll get with PR, folks - get used to it.

If we're to believe Cleggy's gotta-to-admit-it historic speech yesterday, there could be some pretty tasty stuff therein.

Of course, not everyone's happy. Not even every Tory. Take Bill Cash: he told the BBC there was a ..

"..tsunami of changes taking place which could create a great deal of uncertainty and tension.."

"..very acute concern among Conservatives that the party's position was being watered down".

"We want things to work, we want stability, but there are also these democratic questions about being elected on manifesto commitments."

Hmmmm. You know what, Bill? Tough shit. Stop your bleating.

This didn't have to happen you know. If the Blue Team had won the election all on their own - and why the fuck didn't they, against the most disliked, inept incumbents we've ever seen? - then you could have executed the whole damn manifesto for the next five years.

But that didn't happen, did it? Ashcroft's millions were poured down the wrong drains, and your main man dropped his notes then shat himself when the lights came up on the first TV debate.

So you had to ally with a tiny party of opportunists, who probably still can't believe their luck. Your leader had to climb into bed with a Dutch boy. And when that happens, you can expect to see some compromising positions.

You won't necessarily be able to legalise hunting darkies, or repatriating foxes. But you will have to get on with fixing the economy, which was your party's main, core, central promise.

If the Tories look after the pounds, and the Lib Dems look after the premise that we need a lot fewer stupid laws, a lot less authoritarianism : guess who'll have really won the election?

Yeah: us.

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Not really anything to do with the fevered and fascinating world of politics, but have you had your lunch yet? If not, why not consider some of these babies:

Yup, your disbelievin' eyes ain't lying: these really are 'Bacon Fruit Cups'.

Made to a rare and ingenious recipe, originating with our cousins 'cross the pond.

Probably very good for you. But even if not, fuck it:

Om nom nom nom nom...


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One of the many, many ways in which the last Labour Government demonstrated its complete unsuitability for power, and its total, overriding contempt for us, was in the introduction of thousands - literally, thousands - of new laws and regulations.

For 13 years, our freedoms have been steadily eroded, our rights increasingly curtailed, our liberties smashed with a mallet and flushed down the crapper.

But now, what's that on the horizon, glowing gold and flapping its magnificent wings? Why it's the Bird of Liberal Paradise, Nick Clegg.

Cleggy, in a speech last night, began to outline how the Coalition of ConDems would begin to undo some of the horrors inflicted by Gordon Brown and the Authoritarian Left, promising a Blue 'n' Yellow version of the Great Reform Act.

And some good stuff might be in the pipeline. Just a few highlights from Clegg's speech:

“I’m talking about the most significant programme of empowerment by a British government since the great enfranchisement of the 19th Century ... It is time for a wholesale, big bang approach to political reform ...

“It is outrageous that decent, law-abiding people are regularly treated as if they have something to hide. It has to stop.

“..there will be no ID card scheme."

“No national identity register, no second generation biometric passports.

“We won’t hold your internet and email records when there is just no reason to do so.

“CCTV will be properly regulated, as will the DNA database, with restrictions on the storage of innocent people’s DNA.

“There will be no ContactPoint children’s database.

“Schools will not take children’s fingerprints without even asking their parent’s consent.”

“..we’ll review libel laws so that we can better protect freedom of speech"

Now, CF is as cynical as the next blogger, but even he can hope.

Of course the Coalition won't go as far as any Libertarian would wish. Of course some of the ideas will never come to pass, and some will be watered down to homeopathically useless levels. Of course, there are already significant omissions from the list: Human Rights, Nick?

But on the other hand, looking at that list, fuck yeah.

Hell, we may actually be heading the right direction here. We could actually have some classical liberals in power. We might see some .. what was the word? .. 'change'.

Can you believe it?

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They said that there could never be a Labour leader more slippery and duplicitous than Tony Blair.

They said that there could never be a party leader whose views would be more widely despised and vilified than the BNP's Nick Griffin.

They said that there could never be a Labour leader more partisan, more tribal, more blinded by his hatred of his imagined enemies than Gordon Brown.

They were to be proved wrong - very wrong - by one man, and one man alone.

That man, that man, is Ed Balls, rumoured to be throwing his enormous, sweaty hat into the ring for Labour leadership tomorrow.

A man who has in his trouser pocket Labour's one-way ticket to oblivion,

Please, let it be so...

.

Many Trade Unions, and their militant, anti-everything control-freak leaders absolutely thrive on irregularites, on technicalities and on obscure little gotchas.

A kind of hyper-attentive pedantry is the lifeblood of the Unions, making sure they fully exercise every last one of their myriad 'rights', and making sure that the employers are held to every single one of their obligations.

What's that? The heating's 2 degrees too low? Everybody out. Did he just imply in that memo that you were not hardworking? Everybody out. Do you realise that under subclause 5.2.1.5.6, you may not ask a member if he/she is feeling unwell? Everybody out.

So, it must be extra galling for the owners of the Labour party, the Unite Trade Union, when that particular trick is turned on them.

The Militant Snack Vendors (copyright Al Jahom) of British Airways thought they were going to get a few days off this week - lovely, what with the sun finally appearing and all. But sadly for them and their tans, Willie Walsh's legal people have spotted a flaw in their plan.

Apparently, they didn't announce the results of their ballot in exactly the right, carefully defined way, and as a result, they can't go ahead with the strike.

Yes, just hours before staff were due to start the first of four five-day walkouts, the High Court ruled that

"..the strike would breach the 1992 Trade Union Act because Unite's attempts to inform members of the poll result were inadequate"

In his ruling, Mr Justice McCombe said:

"I am unable to say it is sufficiently clear that the union took the steps required by law at the time they were required."

Marc Meryon, 'industrial relations partner' (what?) on behalf of BA, can't help a little gloat:.

"It shows that the law is very technical and that the unions have to work hard to comply with it. But that is part of the price they pay for some of the privileges that they have under the act, including the right to call strikes without liability for the damage which they cause."

Are Unite spitting feathers? You bet. The joint general secretaries of Unite, Tony Woodley and Derek Simpson - presumably speaking in unison, or perhaps one spoke and one did harmony) -said:

"This judgment is an absolute disgrace and will rank as a landmark attack on free trade unionism and the right to take industrial action. Its implication is that it is now all but impossible to take legally protected strike action against any employer who wishes to seek an injunction on even the most trivial grounds."

Bob Crow, that paragon of decency and reason, chimes in:

"Today's decision effectively outlaws strike action. It's another turn of the screw of the anti-union laws."

To which the only considered, reasoned response can be ...

Boo-fucking-hoo. Back to work, boys 'n' girls.

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She's back. Everyone's favourite tweeter, blogger and mindless astro-turfer, Bevanite Ellie, has returned to the airwaves.

Speaking from the smoking wreckage of an election campaign she launched, she tweeted and she was desperate to succeed, Ellie's in an analytical mood.

"Each day the Labour Party is out of government is another day the people we should always represent are vulnerable"

Yeah? Who are the 'people' who must 'always' be represented? The enormous sprawling public sector? The gigantic client state of welfare recipients? Gordon Brown himself?

Speaking of McBroon, Ellie wants us to know that it was very much not the beloved leader's fault that Labour were humiliated at the election. Oh no.

"It was not an awkward smile, or stiffness on camera which made the semi-skilled workers of this country desert our party.."

Hang on. What? The "semi skilled workers"?

And doesn't that little phrase, casually thrown in, tell you all you need to know about the littlest Champagne Socialist? "the semi skilled workers". For fuck's sake.

Imagine if an eeevil Tory had referred to a whole swathe of voters in that condescending, patronising way, eh? Ellie and friends would have had a field day.

Thanks for popping back from your stay in Paris, taking time off your studies, to let us know that it's those 'semi-skilled workers' who just don't get what Labour are all about.

Poor little rich girl.

.

..and we're only halfway through Monday. But it's highly unlikely that anyone will top Mr Eugenides' righteous fury and frothing rage at our old friend Alistair Darling.

Darling's been up to his old tricks, Labour's old tricks: he's told the world that the ConDems are "..running a risk, in what's still a pretty fragile economy, in taking money out of the economy this year"

What say you, Mr Eu'?

"CUTTING GOVERNMENT SPENDING IS NOT "TAKING MONEY OUT OF THE ECONOMY", YOU BADGER-FACED PRICK.

Allowing taxpayers' money to stay in the pockets of the taxpayer is putting money in to the economy, McCockwipe, not taking it out. This is so fucking basic, Darling, that either you are a fucking moron or you are a liar. Which is it? Which?
..
Hear this, Darling. You have destroyed the public finances and demeaned the nation's governance. You have scorched the earth for your successors and ploughed salt into the ruins. You have fucked us so hard, Darling, that we will be walking bow-legged for a generation. How dare you put your mortician's face above the parapet. Have you no shame?

Fuck off, shut up, and leave us alone. We do not wish to hear from you, ever again."

CF could not have put it better himself.

Mr Eugenides, you gettin' it said.

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As the sunlight pours into the dusty cupboards where the previous Government hid all the bills, invoices and receipts, and we begin to discover the full horror of Labour's 13 years of financial mismanagement, it seems that Things Can Only Get Shitter

This mess isn't going to be fixed just by taking some civil servants bonuses away. Even a massive, savage slash at the Public Sector isn't going to keep the debt collectors from the door. There's gonna have to be some pain for the taxpayer. Never mind our children's children, we are going to have start paying off this massive debt.

One of the revenue raisers wee Georgie Osborne could use is an increase in VAT. CallMeDave Cameron keeps fudging the issue - will he, won't he? Does the ConDems "have plans" to raise VAT? 

The main problem with the raising of VAT will be the absolutely deafening whining and screeching from the whole of the left, and from the imbeciles who now form the opposition.

'Not fair, not fair, not fair' they'll chant. 'Hardest on the poorest'. 'No-one can afford it'.

But hang on a minute, let's have a little look at the facts, as eevil bankers Citi have done, shall we?

Firstly, what those lefties won't tell you is that across the 27 European countries that use VAT or its equivalent, only 2 - Cyprus and Luxembourg - have a lower rate than we do, and even then it's not much less - 15% versus our 17.5. 

So, 24 - also known as 'virtually all' - other European countries change more VAT than the UK - up to 25% in some cases.

Do they have impoverished peasants lying dead in the street? Have paupers begun to eat their own children? Probably not.

The boys at Citi reckon that if Georgie put VAT up to 20%, he'd raise 13 billion. Now that's a bit more like it. That makes all the scratching and scraping to find 6 billion look a bit feeble.

And then there's the 'applicability' of VAT - what gets VAT'd and what's exempt. In the UK, we 'zero rate' or exempt from VAT, among other things, books, children's clothes and food. How many other countries exempt all three of those things? Errrr ... none. Some of them do one or two, some of them VAT those things at a reduced rate but none of them zero-rate all three.

Again, if Georgie was bold, and put VAT at the reduced rate - 5% - on those items he'd raise another 8 billion. If he got really ballsy, and stuck the full 17.5% on them, ignoring the wailing and gnashing Guardianista's, he raise 27 billion. 

So, Georgie could make himself, and the Coalition, very unpopular with the left, and with those who believe everything they read in the Daily Mirror, but knock a 40 billion pound chunk out of our deficit, just by copying what, say, Sweden has done with VAT. Sounds like a good deal.

Come on boys, you're in power now. No need to keep smiling and promising us kittens. Let's make flat screen tellies cost a tenner more. Let's put 10 pence on the price of a Big Mac.

It's not exactly the fucking blitz, is it? We'll survive.

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