Archive for the ‘Ban Everything’ Category


When I first saw this card I thought the kid had her/his hand stuck up a sheep’s backside. I’m not usually crude but that is what it looked like to me. I guess it’s just some sort of weird ‘muff’ the child’s carrying but the absence of clothing makes me think they had some pretty odd ideas on what might be amusingly appealing in the past. Maybe they were just more innocent then, back there in vintage land.

The reason I’m wishing you all a somewhat premature VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS is that I’m sick of all the moaners and spoilsports going on about how Christmas has lost it’s meaning and how it is over-commercialized. Some people just want to take the fun out of everything and won’t be happy until they’ve squeezed every last bit of happiness out of living. They think they’re telling us something we don’t already know and that once we’re enlightened we’ll be just as disapproving and miserable as them.

Well not us, buddy boy — we know that you are a long time dead and we’re going to party like there’s no tomorrow. A bit of a good time over Christmas — and Hogmanay —  then we’ll get back to saving the planet and worrying about the recession/depression, wars, famine, national disasters, man’s inhumanity to man…  And on and on.  This is why we need Christmas or something like it — it allows us to put everything else to one side for about a week and lets us concentrate on celebrating or just zoning out for a while.  

Peace and love, man. You know you need it.

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Well, it’s bound to be. Or else, it’s not dangerous per se (annoying phrase and possibly miss-spelled but I’m too tired to think of another one) but ‘studies’ somewhere, at some point, will show that too much of it (breathing), or doing it in a manner other than a technique prescribed by experts and approved of by the government, is not only life-threatening but dangerous to others — especially unborn babies.  This threat will have a name which begins with the word ‘passive’. If you continue to get your breathing wrong and fail to take advice  you will then be a social pariah and a child-killer, just because you didn’t listen to the experts  — whose livelihoods largely depend on them drawing our attention to how everything will kill us and how we are (passively) killing everyone else.

They’re on about ‘environmentally-friendly’ lightbulbs now and how they may be a threat to health. Of course. I’m sorry to gloat but I’m glad it’s something that was previously on the ‘approved’ list (in fact, I’m almost certain that ‘they’ — raving environmentalists — were getting ready to force us to use these type of lightbulbs to the exclusion of all others).  Zealots can never admit they were wrong, though, so they’ll probably issue some statements saying that any damning study was flawed (but all studies which support their views are, of course, totally spot-on and cannot be questioned).

I tried to get a carrier bag to carry home my shopping this week and had to face an interrogation by a supermarket cashier, who wasn’t even impressed by my defense that I had brought my own bag but couldn’t fit everything in, as I’d bought some products which were on a special two-for-one offer (in an attempt to keep myself and loved-ones out of the poorhouse). I pleaded my case as best I could but she didn’t care that I would have to struggle home on public transport with bananas sticking out my coat pocket or that my half-price bloomer would be flattened to the size of a pancake by the time I got through my front door. She was a member of the bag-police and had right on her side. My only consolation was that she had horribly misshapen rabbit teeth. As she lectured me and gave me the evil eye, all I could think was: rabbit, rabbit, rabbit; orthodontist, orthodontist, orthodontist… The tooth thing had probably warped her mind and ruined her life — I might have been doing her a favour if I had punched her teeth out right there and then (only joking, Word Police).

You can read more about all the lightbulb business over at The World’s Gone Mad. I love that blog. Sometimes I get so mad about things that I can hardly speak about them, let alone write about them. And sometimes I get so annoyed that I’m beside myself and we look at each other and don’t know what to think. It’s then that I head over to the ‘Gone Mad’ blog to find out what Billy Seggars has to say about things. Billy usually has a nicely controlled rant but manages to stay witty and coherent throughout.

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I read last week that a sour-faced pub barmaid reprimanded a man for causing offence to other customers. His ‘offence’ was laughing — seemingly his joviality was ‘disturbing other customers.’  The laughing man and his friends were indulging in the kind of back-slapping hilarity that we don’t hear so much of in recent times in what passes for pubs these days and this had caused some disapproving stares from some business-types nearby — who were, no doubt, being put off their mineral water and (unsalted) peanuts.

To me this just about sums-up how all the kill-joys and health freaks are squeezing all the character and the craic (in the Irish sense) out of our drinking establishments. It’s only a matter of time before alcohol is rationed in pubs — some method will be employed to measure how many government-approved units a person has had that day and service will be refused once they’ve reached their ‘healthy’ limit. The sale of crisps will be out the door too (with the smokers).

This drive to make pubs more ‘healthy’ is all wrong and will knock the life right out of them. I’m sure that — if there is a demand for them — there could be ‘healthy/wholesome’ pubs (cafes?) for those individuals who are offended by everything that people have enjoyed in pubs for generations.



I know I said yesterday that it would take me around two years (or whatever) to get the hang of Blogger but I was wrong and I’m finding it all easy-peasy now. I was probably just subconsciously resisting Blogger because I love WordPress so much and was feeling strangely guilty about blogging somewhere else. As if anyone in this whole entire universe would give a jot.

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A relatively new blog but I like this man’s style – and it’s good to have yet another blogger drawing attention to the growing power of the Health Fascists and Thought Police.

Billy Seggars — The World’s Gone Mad

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_38040325_baggytrousers.jpg   So the mayor of Delcambre in Louisiana is about to sign a law making it a criminal offence to wear baggy trousers which expose the wearers undergarments. When I first heard about that, I thought it had to be some sort of a joke – criminalising people because of a fashion choice. In the Land of the Free.

Seemingly, the rationale for the ban is that some people find it offensive for others to have their underwear on display in public. And there may be some support for the ban among Delcambre residents, as a recent online poll revealed that a majority of respondents were in favour of the ban — though it may be the case that any potential trouser-criminals were too busy enjoying life to take any notice the poll. I can understand that some people are not too keen on the sight of other people underwear being on display but I can’t see how that ‘dislike’ can be stretched to a situation where one group’s disapproval of a fashion preference is enough to criminalize another group of people.

There seems to be a distinct trend for this form social interference in recent years: one group of people take a dislike to a particular activity and then seek ways justifying sanctions aimed at eliminating the targeted behaviour. The number one tactic (which has recently overtaken the ‘it’s-for-your own-good’ approach) is to bleat on about how detrimental someone’s lifestyle choices are to the controlling group. In the case of baggy trousers, the law is ‘justified’ because it is supposedly offensive to the eye and moral sensibilities of onlookers (the ‘because something can be perceived by one of my senses, I have the right to outlaw your behaviour and impose my will on you’ phenomenon). Live and let live doesn’t come into it.

If the Fashion Police hit the UK shores, I’m going to jump on the bandwagon and lobby against the various fashion disasters that insult my eye on a daily basis.  Middle-aged men in over-tight jeans will be the first on my hit-list. I know there’s not that many of them out there and I that don’t have to look — and that I invaribly avert my gaze from their offensive ancient trouser-packets – but that’s not the point. They’re out there and they have to be stopped – six months in the slammer may well put a stop to their tight-slacks shenanigans.

nose-hair.jpg   Nose hair, too. Not strictly fashion-related but highly offensive to my sensibilities and there’s no excuse for it, as every man of a certain age has surely been presented with at least one nose/ear hair trimmer device during each and every festive season. I know it is my present of choice for every male acquaintance over the age of thirty.

I want cropped trousers banned too, not only because they only look good on an infinitesimal percentage of the world’s population but because some moral deviants insist on wearing them with socks (dirty beggars) and I’m offended by the sight of other people’s socks (socks should be private, socks pollute the air, socks howl at the moon…).

purdey.jpg   I can see how this Banning Everything can get to be addictive. I’m becoming quite power-crazed just pondering on what I could ban next. I think I’ll make a start on hairstyles that don’t meet with my approval. Yesterday, for instance, I had to put up with standing in a supermarket queue behind a little old lady who was sporting a hideously inappropriate Pageboy haircut, no doubt a leftover from her heyday in the1960’s.

This latter-day Purdey had also omitted to fasten the top two buttons of her blouse, thus exposing me to the sight of her underwear (a thermal vest, if I’m not mistaken). I could also detect a slight whiff of lavender fragrance emulating from her. I detest lavender, yet the Jezebel had the nerve to inflict it on me – it near-enough drowned-out my own delightful Gaultier scent. That woman’s days are numbered in more ways than she can imagine.

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