As a floating, anyone-but-Gordon voter, CF is following the competing campaigns with a mixture of contempt and amusement.

One area that is particularly entertaining is the competing campaign posters that spew forth from the major parties, showing how furiously they're pissing away all those millions in dodgy donations.

But this morning's effort from Labour didn't persuade CF to think .. well ... anything. It is, of course, negative; an attack on CallMeDave Cameron. It is, coming from Labour, probably either a distortion or a complete lie.

But the most noticeable thing about it, at least from CF's point-of-view is that it doesn't seem to make any fucking sense whatsoever:

Well, what the fuck does that mean? Really.

What the fuck?

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This for-the-want-of-a-better-word cartoon appears in today's Guardian.

Unfortunately, CF is a little hungover this morning (drunken dinner with a confused Lib Dem PPC, an eeevil Banker and a millionaire property developer - but that's another story) and clearly the old brain cells are firing slowly.


Could somebody please, please explain - in less than one hundred words - exactly what the flying fuck the cartoonist is on about?

It's like looking at one of those 19th century cartoons from a GCSE History textbook.

What is the point he's trying to make? Is this funny? What the fuck?

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Well well. Another Twitter storm. But one that CF played his small part in, this time.

CF posted yesterday morning on Paul Clarke, the bloke who faces a five year jail sentence for handing in a gun he found at his local police station.

The mainstream media have yet to pick up on this, and facts are thin on the ground, but the story looks and smells a lot like, at best, the misfiring of a broken justice system.

Gradually the story spread over Twitter, and one commenter, Benjamin Glass, created a Twitter tag, #paulclarke.

Suddenly, around noon, a tipping point was reached. By mid-afternoon, there were two storms raging - one all over the South of England, and one all over the Twittersphere. #paulclarke was 'trending'. This 'umble blog received more hits in 10 hours than it did in the whole of October.

With a controversial story like this, for every 50 people, there are at least 75 different opinions.

Stu at Sharpe's Opinion got all contrarian, posting that it served Clarke right, which caused further outrage in some quarters, including from our humble Devil, who begged to differ.

Mark 'Reckons' Thompson pointed out at that in October, a bloke was told by the police to do exactly what Paul Clarke was arrested for - 'bring it in, mate'. Jack of Kent took a more balanced view of the whole affair.

Hundreds of others blogged their two penn'orth, and many, many more sounded off in comments. CF wasn't quite subjected to a torrent of abuse, but there were many, many dissenters. Let's answer some of them, shall we?

'Clarke did a stupid thing' was a frequent critique. Well, duh, yeah, he did. Carrying a gun through town is not the brightest thing to do. (Possibly) damaging criminal evidence ain't that clever either. No arguments there.

But, but, but, hang on a fucking minute, when did stupidity become a criminal offence? When did being 'a bit silly' start to attract a prison sentence of five fucking years?

'You don't know the law' was a common cry (often appended with '..and I do'). Well, again, yeah. CF has never claimed to be a legal expert. CF doesn't know enormous amounts about vineyards and oenology either, but that doesn't prevent him realising when he's glugging down a particularly agreeable red.

And, on a similar basis, while CF is not fully versed on the details of Strict Liability or of Section 5 of the Firearms Act, this doesn't prevent him wrinkling his nose up at the foul stench of something going pretty fucking wrong.

Let's go through this again: a bloke finds a gun, takes it to a police station, gets arrested, goes to prison for five years.

What particularly subtle legal point - totally missed by CF - makes that OK, for fucks sake?

What particular Latin phrase - of which CF is clearly unaware - explains that sequence of events?

'We don't know all the facts' was another bleat. Well, for the third fucking time, yeah.

But what missing 'fact' could possibly, possibly justify this? What hidden information could be revealed to make us all simultaneously say 'Oh. Well in that case, fuck him; bang him up.'?

No, regardless of the legal niceties, regardless of whether Surrey Today has reported this wrongly, regardless of whether the armchair lawyers of the blogosphere are poorly informed, regardless of whether this Paul Clarke is a good citizen or a nutter, this is not right.

We need to stay angry about this, stay focused on this. Something has gone wrong. Badly wrong.

Whether it went wrong at the police station, with the CPS, with the judge, with the jury, with our legal system or somewhere else, it went wrong.

This is not right.

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++ Important updates on this story here ++

There's a term in law known as 'Strict Liability'. This is official, formal legal shorthand for 'You know what? I really don't care why you were doing it, mate'. 

Strict Liability applies to offences like speeding. So, if you're caught breaking the speed limit, you can't just claim that you didn't know, or that you had to get home to see the end of X-Factor, or you were fleeing violent axe murderers. Speeding is speeding. You cannot exceed the limit for any reason.

Now, this might not seem too unreasonable, really. A bit crude, a bit simplistic, but you can sort of see where the legislators are comin' from, eh?

However, what happens when lazy or inept legislators, rushing to put together yet another knee-jerk set of laws, use this as their own little shortcut?

Paul Clarke of Reigate can tell you.

Mr Clarke found a discarded shotgun and - rather than blagging a bank, or shootin' up some boyz in da 'hood - decided that he should hand it in at the local police station.

After all, possession of an unlicensed firearm is an offence, innit?

Oh yes. It is. But, unfortunately for Paul, it's a 'Strict Liability' offence. Remember them? No excuses.

So, when Mr Clarke arrived at the local nick - having had the courtesy to 'phone ahead to announce his intention - was he offered a cup of tea and the thanks of several beaming Bobbies?

Was he fuck. He was promptly arrested, and thrown into a cell.

When the case came to court, was he given an apology for the misunderstanding and sent away, without a stain on his character?

Was he fuck. 'Strict Liability', see?

The judge, directing the Jury, sealed his fate, saying,

"This is an unusual case, but in law there is no dispute that Mr Clarke has no defence to this charge.

The Jury, not really knowing what the fuck was going on, and probably slightly disappointed that this was not really like on the telly at all, took a scant 20 minutes to go along with the Judge's direction, and find the poor sod Guilty. Guilty. For fuck's sake.

So, will the judge now unravel this mess, and sentence Mr Clarke to something proportionate and tolerable: "you will be taken from this place and given a cup of tea and your cab fare home" ?

Will he fuck. He can't, even if he wants to.

There's a minimum sentence for the crime of possessing a firearm. A mere judge can't be trusted to know what's appropriate, so he's given guidelines from on high.

So - and here comes the sit down and brace yourself bit - when Paul Clarke is sentenced, on December the 11th, he must be sent to prison for a minimum of five years. Five fucking years. Five years in prison, for doing what pretty much every last single fucking one of us would have done in the circumstances.

What the flying, gibbering, fuckity fuck have we come to?

It's an over-worked phrase, but could you make this shit up? No, you fucking could not.

What kind of insane, kafka-esque fucking mess do we live in?

Really, really, really. What the fuck?

++UPDATE++  The reporter who was in court, speaks here. More facts begin to emerge.

++UPDATE++  The above was CF's most visited blogpost ever, and attracted huge volumes of criticism and comment. Some responses are here

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