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Racism is a BAD thing

I asked my mate Jock O’Bernstein (or – as we call him –” Taff the sheep-shagger”) where he stood on racism and his answer was:

“The black bloke’s head”

..a reply that pretty much sums up his lack of understanding of some of the issues.

For a United Kingdom of English,  Irish, Scottish and Welsh* people presided over by a Queen of Germanic descent – with a Greek husband – we can be a remarkably intolerant nation.

About the only time you find the Welsh, Scottish, Irish and English** in one place are in a (probably racist) joke “at the pub”.

Perhaps I was not the only one to scan the news on the recent slaughter in the Egyptian football stadium for the phrase: “…believed to have started when some English football fans…”

Well, as  I expect John Terry was saying to Anton Ferdinand;

all this unpleasantness needs to stop.

Times SHOULD have changed. In the old days it was entirely acceptable (standard Foreign Policy even) to sail to a country, claim it for God and (British) Queen. Then – after a quick 15 minute shouted pep talk about Christianity – leave a few Bibles (printed in English naturally) and clear off with all the valuable stuff (fair exchange = no robbery).  Several die-hards have tried to resurrect  the practice on our behalf at International Football Tournaments but it is becoming SOOO Dark Ages.

The basic rules seem clear enough: No insults based on skin colour, Ethnicity , Nationalist Stereotypes or sexual orientation. The onus is on the aggressor to take every reasonable step to determine skin hue, family history and preferred choice of sexual partner BEFORE abusing and/or committing physical assault on his/her preferred victim(s).

It MIGHT be best to get any prospective recipient(s) of gratuitous violence to complete –  AND sign – a questionnaire before getting underway. Then stash it/them safely about your person (preferably where they are unlikely to get too blood-spattered) ready for later inspection.

The authorities aren’t complete killjoys though..and realise that “boys-will-be-boys”….the legislation does not – as yet – cover hair colour…“GET in!”

                                                                                                                                                                    * Alphabetic order – too many immigrant races to list

(with thanks to the Daily Mail for the regular updates)

** Reverse Alphabetic order


About they still let me vote

David Martin John, was created in an American lab by a scientist who - in a fit of pique following his exclusion from the team working on the Roswell (‘Alien Discovery’) project - grafted a baboon’s arse onto a butterfly. As a result David is extremely fond of bananas (he will happily stare at them for hours) but suffers from an irrational fear of getting trapped in net curtains. Abandoned by the elders of the tribe…David struggled in the wild but, at first glance, APPEARS to have integrated – to an admittedly limited degree – into society. Raised by badgers just outside an English Village that was twinned with Chernobyl…he soon withdrew into his own troubled mind only to be sexually abused by his imaginary friend. The one time he actually did manage to ‘make’ friends was when he went to Legoland. Twenty years may have passed, but he still remains bitter about what he considers the unreasonable rejection by Publishers of his first manuscript: “Noddy and the Daleks”. Determined to be at least a minor celebrity he suffered another setback when he underwent a lavish and expensive boob job before he had read BOTH questions on the “Page 3 Girl” Application Form. He counts Professor Brian Cox among his friends – which is ludicrous as he’s never met him - but this is apparently quite common with David’s Mental condition. David was invalided out of the Police Force in 1998 after – perhaps unwisely – asking a GBH suspect to show him:“…EXACTLY what happened…” When he lay stricken and in a coma in hospital (the greengrocers weren’t remotely interested) his parents rushed to his bedside. They visited daily – despite not knowing whether David could even hear – trying to encourage him with tape recordings of other people dying. Devastated to find that there was no “Pause” button on his Life Support machine they still came… just clinging to the hope they might finally hear those longed-for precious little words; “…time of death…” David survived their repeated attempts at poisoning and smothering, recovering enough to be able to testify in Court. His parents got off on a technicality – the Judge, in his summing up, said he would have done the same thing. Although there was overwhelming forensic evidence to the contrary, he also accepted that they COULD have been “simply plumping up the pillows” as claimed. In 2007 David took another turn for the worse when he took the Government’s dismissal of his idea for a “massive almost-globe-like structure to celebrate the new Millenia” very badly. 2009 also proved a dificult year when, during his resitting of a routine urine test, Doctors found no brain activity and remove several vital organs. Now banned for life by Tescos, since 2010, following an incident in the vegetable section that the family refuse to discuss, he now lives pretty much as a recluse – confined to the Ward – filling his days watching taped repeats of his relatives embarassing themselves on “You’ve Been Framed” … David is living proof (albeit in a “permanent vegatative state”) that medical treatment of the criminally insane has a long way to go……

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