My Unborn Heretic

As an adult I generally try to avoid government. I like my freedom, and I like being in charge of my own life. It's hard in the modern world, where the state is everywhere. Taxing everything, regulating everything. Even hijacking your mobile phone to send warnings about BBQ fires. Nevertheless, like a mouse hiding in the skirting board, I try to keep out of the way. And I've managed, just about, to retain some modicum of independence.

Luckily I don't have children. I say luckily as I hate the thought of being forced to hand my children over to a state that I spend most of my own time trying to avoid. I'd have to send my children to school. I'd have no choice, and I'd have no power to protect them from it or mitigate its full effects.

(Yes, technically I could home-school ..but even there the state demands the power to step in and overrule if you don't imitate their methods and curriculum.)

I can imagine the conversation I'd have with my child.

"Yes, I know it's a long day, and I know you're surrounded by idiots, and I know you don't learn very much there, but it's just something you have to do. I can't change it. Maybe one day we'll have a smarter, freer world, but for now it's just the way it is."

I'd be sending my child to school not to get an education, but like some undercover agent sent to brave it out in a hostile land. Or a crypto religionist, living under some totalitarian rule.

You might think I'm exaggerating as you read this, but that's only because you've been brainwashed by circumstance. You think it's normal that the state has the power to force your children to do things you don't want them to do. You also unquestionably accept the premise that factory-length school days are normal. As if children have been doing nine 'til five, forty hour-a-week education since the days of the cavemen. Like an episode of the Flintstones. When it isn't normal. It was never normal. It's a very modern phenomenon, and it's a very extreme example of something that once would've been much more focused and measured.

What once was a child being tutored by a scholar for a few hours a week in Maths and English. Or the vicar's wife spending a few hours a week teaching the local village children to read. Has now become an institutional, smothering behemoth, completely detached from its original purpose. Done with the classic misguided fervour of the religious zealot.

It's like someone seeing the health benefits of a half hour jog, then deciding, "Yes, this is good. MORE MORE MORE. Let's force people to run for six hours a day."

"EDUCATION, EDUCATION, EDUCATION."

Dumb, dumb and dumber.

This is how I feel every time I see the latest headline about what the government is doing in regard schools. Today it was a story about how they're banning certain foods from the school dinner menu. It's just more faffing about. More things that will waste the precious time and limit the choice of my hypothetical unborn heretic.

And it's yet another thing that isn't about actual learning. It's just more social busy-bodying.

It's a bit like overhearing a conversation from some idiot family, where they're discussing and arguing about what they're going to have for tea. Their latest health fad to lose weight, or the latest thing they've seen advertised on TV that they're excited to try. "Thank God I can go home and make my own meal," you think.

In the state cafeteria you're forced to endure this though. You have to sit at the same trough. You can't just walk away from it.

Anyway, here's my deal. You give me (and other like-minded people) the freedom to choose their child's school hours. This is all I ask. You do your thing, I'll do mine.

Oh Middlesbrough, So Much To Answer For..

I haven't posted much on here recently, which is odd, as my hometown has been in the news quite a lot.

(Tonight's BBC headline stories ..lawless Middlesbrough)

The truth is I don't really have too much to say. Plus, when it comes to stuff like this (tragic crimes that need investigating) I think it's best to just let the police and authorities get on with their job.

Needless to say, we've had over a week of it now, so I might as well give my overall sense of things.

My main feeling is just how weird it is constantly seeing local areas on TV.

It's always strange seeing your own area on the national news. No matter how bad the story there's always that sense of being gifted the spotlight. That everyone's getting their fifteen minutes of fame. On top of the mainstream media we also have the YouTubers turning up to chart how rough the area is. The 'poverty porn' type videos, where someone - usually a reformed ne'er-do-well themselves - wanders around interviewing drug addicts and filming bins and boarded-up windows.

It's kind of the opposite of what people normally do. Usually you film the best bits when you try to present a picture of an area. You try to get a nice shot of the prettiest landmark or building. The sun setting over a picturesque part of the river, framed from the perfect angle. Or a tasteful close-up of some interesting piece of art or architecture.

These guys go looking for burnt wheelie bins. Rat-ransacked piles of carrier bags. The ugliest house on the street.

So when you watch these videos there's this grim realness - and it is real. These are real drug addicts and real boarded-up houses. Yet it also feels a little unreal, as you've walked through those estates countless times yourself, on your way to Morrisons or Tesco, and you know it's not that bad. They're just filming the worst 10%.

And this is why I'm not too keen on giving a running commentary myself. On the one hand I don't want to downplay things. There are big problems with crime. Yet, at the same time, I don't want to help play up to the Benefits Street narrative for the cameras. There's a natural urge to push back and defend the town.

I did comment on the balaclava-wearing joyriders a few years ago on this blog. As it was unprompted it's probably a truer account of my sense of things.

See the following post: Back to the Jungle

There I noted that it was a recent development and blamed it on the pandemic. Obviously, I can't blame everything on lockdowns. However, I do see the balaclavas as directly related. When I was a child back in the 80s and early 90s I saw (and heard) lots of joyriding. I'd hear 'twocked' (taken without owner's consent) cars getting chased by the police as I lay in bed at night. Then I'd often see burnt-out cars on the way to school. Likewise, lads whizzing around on motorbikes (stolen or otherwise) was a common sight. Back then they didn't wear balaclavas though.

The joyriding gradually became less of a problem. I wouldn't like to claim that it completely disappeared, but it did lessen massively as we moved into the 21st century (at least in my personal experience). Then, after the pandemic, there was a notable uptick. Only now they were wearing balaclavas and looking like the IRA.

The above image has become a very common sight over the last few years. Personally, I hate the balaclavas more than the actual quadbikes. As with Covid, I think covering the face is uncivilised and anti-social. It's low trust, by definition.

In the above linked-to blog post I also stated that I prefer feral lawlessness to Soviet-style conformity. I'd rather not have either. I'd prefer to live in a civilised country with liberty and the rule of law. However, when push comes to shove I can't help but prefer the former. When things are bad the British psyche tends to have this "I don't give a f*ck" attitude. It's very destructive, but it's also very unmanageable. So sometimes it can be a lesser evil. In fact, in the BBC clip the reporter asks about gangs and one of the lads in a balaclava says, "They're saying there's gangs, but there aren't any gangs. This isn't London, mate."

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/c2e0w2e0k0ro

Which is true. I'm sure there's organised crime when it comes to the distribution of drugs and whatnot, but most of these lads on bikes and quads are just lads with nothing better to do that just don't care. It really is a feralness. Organisation requires some degree of care or purpose. You can deal with organised criminals. They have aims and interests. The feral aren't as easily reasoned with. They really don't give a f*ck. It's the wildlings from Game of Thrones, and as wild and as ugly as it is in some sense it's the hard, granite bedrock of British liberty. Lord Nelson had a touch of it. As did the Catuvellauni tribes that met the Roman legions. I have to admit, I admire it. As much as I hate having to live with it.

In other news today we've had renewed Argentine claims on the Falklands. Perhaps Milei should be sent some footage of South Bank and Grangetown to see what he's up against.

(Jeez Louise, I've really wandered far from my original aim here. As I always do. Another illustration of why it's probably best for me to get back to watching X-Files and playing fantasy football. I'll leave it there.)

The NHS Confessional

A Modern Form of Catholicism.

In my last post I congratulated the mono-state and said I'd refrain from firing off my opinions for a while. I've lasted about two weeks ..which isn't bad by my standards. Plus, I think this topic is too big to let slide. It's the news that Labour are rolling out mental health "walk-ins" across the country.

It's been on the cards for quite some time now, and I've feared it like an oncoming army. Sat here waiting in apprehension. You could call me paranoid ..and in doing so you'd be playing into my fears and confirming my argument. The Orwellian trojan horse, helping the state gain entry into every human mind. From the cradle to the grave (we already have 'infant mental health' funding).

Of course, people will argue that these are just walk-in centres, there for people seeking help. That no one's being forced to turn up. That there are countless genuinely mental people walking the streets who clearly need the help. Which is undoubtedly true. That it's putting pressure on A&E services, and yada, yada, yada.

However, it's hard not to be cynical. I've watched this trend grow. I wrote about it back in 2021:

We're Sleepwalking into a Mental Health Crisis

I started noticing the pattern way back circa 2015. The endless stream of TV and newspaper articles pushing the very term mental health. Pieces on the BBC, aimed at younger people, trying to sell the idea of sectioning. The wider push to get people (again, largely younger people) to self-identify with their various labels. I'm bipolar. I have anxiety. I have depression.

The medicalisation of the human experience.

The vast majority of people wearing such badges are simply normal people. Normal people with problems and emotions, yes, but nevertheless normal people. They do not have mental illness. They don't need the state this involved in their lives. Yet they've been encouraged to wilt under such diagnoses. To view their normal fears and emotions as terminal conditions needing medical remedy. As fundamental disabilities, not natural hurdles that are part of life.

We all have a rich personal tapestry. Anxieties and emotions are normal. I have anxiety, and I'm not saying that facetiously, it's a genuine admission. In fact, when I hear stories of young people entering the adult world that are too anxious to even answer the telephone I can fully sympathise, as I had that exact problem. I was criminally shy and anxious. I still have a tendency towards this now. To some extent it's how we're wired - our natural dispositions. Just as some people have a natural tendency to be more aggressive, so need to manage their anger more. Likewise, to some extent it's also a product of how we're raised and the things we've experienced. Either way, it's all perfectly within the natural spectrum of human behaviour.

We all have slightly different personalities, so this impulse to box and medicalise everything is so unromantic and numbing for society. I would hate to put a medical label on my own personality. I prefer to view my anxiety as being a product of my fox-like nature. I have moments of incredible braveness and moments of incredible cowardice, and I often find myself caught between the two. I'm never sure whether to show my teeth like a lion or to panic-off into the bushes like a threatened squirrel.

And the capacity to be cunning gives a greater natural capacity for cowardice and overthinking.

Perhaps it's my fox-like nature that leads me to fear the mental health cage. Maybe it won't be so bad?

From Fox To Kitty Cat

In a fitting parallel I had to take the cat to the vet yesterday. He's a stray "outside" cat who turned up in the garden one day and needed feeding. I felt conflicted putting him in the cat carrier - his little jail. I'm not normally sentimental, but I felt teary-eyed doing it. He has an instinctive desire for freedom that I admire and relate to. I wish my fellow humans were more like him. He's not used to being indoors, let alone being caged up, so he meowed like a baby the entire journey.

Fortunately, his front paw is looking a lot better now, so he seems to be on the mend. Still, I feel like I took a great liberty in forcing him into the box. Perhaps he would've been just fine had I left him to his own devices? Maybe the antibiotic injection he was forced to accept will do more harm than good? I certainly wouldn't have been as blasé at the vets if it was me getting the injection.

I can't help but feel this is what the state is like with us human pets. I'm sure they're trying to do the right thing, but you suspect they'd try a lot harder if it was their own health or freedom on the line.

It'd also be better if there was some actual depth of meaning. Materialism - where everything's just a chemical soup, covered over with nice, but hollow words isn't enough. In truth, it's perhaps the biggest source of depression. Actual religions - even horoscopes and animal fables - are so much more fun and healthy. Life is hard at times because it's a quest.

A question mark. A quest for meaning.

Things Are Looking A Bit Blue

We finally have Andy Burnham in charge. My suspicion was that he'd appeal to the left then pivot to the right after taking the hotseat, and that looks to be the case. Everything's looking a bit Blue Labour so far. (Though it's a little bit of a mixed bag.)

This is good for the country on face value.

Obviously, the question is: is it a sincere attempt to get the country on a better track? Or is it more a case of doing the popular things that need to be done to retain power ..so more damaging things can be done under that cover?

Assuming it's predominantly the first then hats off to the uniparty. I railed against the parting of the red sea that led to his coronation, but if the country does end up better off I'll show some good grace and refrain from sniping from the side lines. For a while at least.

What If The Bin Wins?

It's unlikely, but stranger things have happened. I've been thinking about the local precedent we have for it. Up the road in Hartlepool they elected a man in a monkey costume back in 2002.

The monkey was H'Angus the Monkey - the town's football mascot. The man in the costume, Stuart Drummond. After the election he took the costume off and carried out his role as elected mayor in person. He then went on to get re-elected twice. So, though it began as a joke, he didn't do too badly.

[The character of H'Angus was inspired by the monkey-hanger legend of Hartlepool. Apparently, during the Napoleonic Wars, a French ship was wrecked upon the coast. The only thing that survived was a monkey. Having never seen a Frenchman before the locals assumed it was a French spy and hung it. Or so the story goes.]

It's interesting how some of these themes come round in circles. The lack of seriousness at the time was down to the fact that a lot of people didn't want an elected mayor - deeming it needless and costly devolution. Now, of course, we have Manchester mayor Andy Burnham coming to save the country, partly as a consequence of those Labour devolution efforts. And promising more of that devolution when he's in charge.

Also, the local Hartlepool MP at the time was a certain Peter Mandelson. When Drummond won Mandelson supposedly took him to one side and complained that "he'd made the town a laughing stock." Though he then went on camera moments later and praised Drummond. Understanding only too well - perhaps more so than current politicians - that expressing his true opinion wouldn't be savvy.

So, the Clacton election..

Unlikely though it would be I think a win for the bin would actually be worse for the mainstream parties. As I think the hangover would be much worse than the night out.

The night itself would be incredible. The people supporting the bin would be giddy with excitement. The anticipation, the announcement, the look on Nigel Farage's face as the results are read out. The memes, the amusement. The TV coverage. It would certainly be a night of fervour and exuberance.

However, the next morning the people would wake up with a headache and a man in a bin costume lying next to them. With nothing much else to show for it.

Then would come the question of whether he continues to wear the bin, or whether he takes it off as the Hartlepool mayor did. If the costume remains it'll be silly. So that's a non-starter. If the costume comes off you end up with a remainiac BBC writer representing the brexity area of Clacton. Further illustrating that the bin is only a proxy for the established parties. If that wasn't clear enough already.

And the people who supported the candidate, who enjoyed the exciting night, will have to own that subsequent reality. The voters will at least have the luxury of pretending they didn't vote for him. People publicly declaring their support will have it permanently on their CV though.

Of course, you could say the monkey-suited guy did well after he took the costume off, so maybe the same could happen here. Personally, I can't imagine that being the case, as there the candidate was local. Plus, there wasn't the national divide we have today. Still, it's possible.

As For Nigel

Here it's more interesting, as I think it would only be the end for Farage if he chose to walk away. As in practical reality it wouldn't change very much. The people that like Farage would still like him, and the people that hate him would still hate him.

So he could remain as leader. Keep doing his GB News show. Take a break. Allow some time for the dust to settle. Then go back and stand for the seat at the General Election. Where he would no doubt win. Unless the man in the bin somehow managed to win over the constituents without the gimmick - to the extent that he could win an election where multiple parties were standing. Which is even less likely than him winning this one.

Farage can't even do much in parliament anyway at the moment, so again, in practical terms it wouldn't make much difference.

This is all assuming there aren't internal wrangles and panics within Reform following such a defeat.

So I think it can only go wrong for Reform long term if it's self-inflicted.

All the framing in the media at the moment says that Farage made a mistake in resigning his seat. The, "He'll look like an idiot standing against a bin" general opinion. However, the major mistake was when the mainstream parties rallied around the bin in response. Without thinking it through.

Farage made his announcement at 2 pm. An hour later we saw this tweet from David Aaronovitch:

"One other thing. If I were the other parties, I leave Farage to his by election. Call it a stunt and let him fight it out with Count Binface."

By evenfall all the major parties had taken this line. Even going so far as to call it a stunt and a "fake" election. They didn't even have the sense to wait until the next day to make the decision. To allow themselves time to consider the consequences.

Had they not done this they would've had a much better chance of punishing Farage. The decision to go for re-election was a gamble - a brave, clever gamble, but a gamble nonetheless. They could've taken it seriously. Stood genuine candidates, and pressed home the line that, "Farage was avoiding scrutiny." They could've said to the public, "We welcome this election and want you to judge him." Of the candidates standing a lead candidate could've emerged. If that person won it would be a legitimate, democratic and highly damaging victory.

Instead they have a situation where, win or lose, they've made themselves look like a genuine uniparty that's scared of the public vote.

As the feisty and much missed Ann Widdecombe noted in response, "They're frit."

Only a similar faux pas can hand them back the ground they've surrendered.

It's all happening..

In the age of the Internet war is heavy on the eyes.

I've been on Twitter too much. My eyes are sore. It's a punishment to begin typing this blog post, but type I must.

It's all happening.

Farage has stepped down, to go back to the public to get a renewed mandate. The establishment have unified behind a plastic bin.

Count Binface, the annoying joke political candidate has been fully weaponised, and everyone from journalists at the Times to Restore Britain's Uniparty accounts find it hilarious.

It's just oh, so funny. He's dressed as a bin.

I should talk about the politics, but my mind is more alarmed at the general unintelligence. I actually used the word retarded yesterday. I hate this word. There's something unnecessarily crude about it. Like calling someone thick. It's ungraceful. I don't like. It's not me. Yet, I couldn't help but reach for the word. All these people just look retarded. I don't know how better to put it.

When I see the Count Binface character - and this is the thing, he's not even new, he's been around a while - I always see it as something that perhaps I would've been amused by as a very small child. In fact, I remember as a small child being amused by Dusty Bin. My parents would watch the game show 3-2-1. As a four year old the adult game show didn't interest me much, but when the cartoon-like bin appeared on the screen my attention was grabbed.

It was like a crude ITV Mr. Potato Head. "Yes, that's Dusty Bin," my mam would gently say as I pointed at the screen.

Even back then though I wasn't that amused. It didn't have me hooked to the screen like Thomas the Tank Engine.

Anyway, that's what I think when I see the uniparty bin candidate. I think, "This is something I might have found funny as a small child." Then a conflicted impulse kicks in. "These people are like children, I shouldn't be so mean to them." After all, I'd never be mean to a child for laughing at the bin. I was once that child. Yet, at the same time, they're adults. "They're f*ffing adults," I think, "Why am I surrounded by these people?!"

When you see the entire political class doubled over in stiches, clearly thinking this is all brilliantly funny, it's disturbing. I feel like Julien Barratt's character from Nathan Barley, watching some well-paid journalist trundle down the street on a tiny scooter.

It's tiring. If there was some other country I could escape to. Some jungle hut where these people wouldn't bother me.

And yes, all this sounds arrogant. I don't care. You're all retards.

I just hope the people of Clacton aren't as easily amused.

The Twin Forms of Admiration

I've noticed something about music. As ever, it's a generalisation. Plus, it's a little anecdotal. However, it seems to be a thing. Basically I've noticed that all my friends tend to prefer music that's sung by men. These are male friends. (I don't speak to women enough to have a solid data sample.) Anyway, if I recommend my friends music it's always a much harder sell if the singer is female. This is in contrast to how I am. I have a bias towards females. All things being equal I prefer the added bonus of having a beautiful women fill my airwaves. In fact, they don't even have to be especially beautiful. When you have a data sample as small as mine any feminine figure will do.

I would say I'm surprised by this difference. However, in truth, I'm not, as I noticed the very same thing in myself a long time ago. When I was a teenager. Back then I too largely only listened to music sang by males. I picked myself up on this and questioned why. The answer was obvious: I was looking for role models. I was looking for something that I could be. That I could imitate. That I could aspire to.

It was the exact same reason why I had posters of male footballers on my bedroom wall. It wasn't just admiration, it was also aspiration. That player is good at football. I want to be good at football like that player. It was about what I wanted to do and who I wanted to be. So naturally when I started learning to play guitar as a fifteen year old it was similar. I wasn't listening to music just to passively consume it. I was looking for a path. A gang to join. Something I could copy and learn from.

So the female artist. The Madonna, or the even the Sheryl Crow or Tori Amos, wasn't useful to me. I didn't want to be a woman doing dance moves on a stage. Or any female figure at all. I wanted to be a Damon Albarn or Noel Gallagher. It wasn't just a question of the music being good or bad. It had to be good and helpful to my pursuit of success. Be it actual musical success or just general social success - i.e. having a good self-image and presenting that to other people.

Again, similar to football, where men will adopt football as part of their self-image long after any hope of making it as a professional player has gone. Just to be one of the lads, or to look manly or whatever. Sure, there may be a genuine love of the game, but it's also a social modus. See, for example, the politician tweeting about the latest England match to look relatable. We all do it to some degree, and it's largely subconscious. Most people tend not to do it as cynically as the politician does it.

Returning to my own realisation, I remember having a sense of internal conflict at the time.

"Hang on, why am I not judging Sheryl Crow in as high esteem as I judge Noel Gallagher?"

Objectively her songs are classics too, yet subjectively I won't quite admit it.

When I confronted this bias I began to understand my own personal framing. I'm male, I have a male bias. After that it really widened up my appreciation of music.

Of course, it helps if you're a bit of an effeminate male anyway, which I was. So it wasn't a huge leap, and once I realised I was free to copy off the girls as well as the boys the flood gates really opened - as far as musical influences went. Then I did begin to internalise and take to heart Sheryl Crow and Tori Amos and Fiona Apple and all the other female artists that appealed to me. The same way that I'd taken Blur and Oasis to heart.

Nevertheless, I wasn't that androgynous. I didn't go full David Bowie. I still copied the males more. I still wanted to be outwardly male and successful, I was just much more aware that I was doing it, and I didn't let that impulse skew my tastes.

[I've touched upon this theme before: Beauty, Self-Image and Gender

See also the Strawberry Jam series.]

Many Years Later

Now, many years later, I've completely given up any dreams of 'making it' as a musician. So now my enjoyment of music is purely as a consumer, and thanks to my self-awareness my bias has shifted in the opposite direction. Making it easier for the girls to get my attention.

[Music has moved to right hand side of the chart for me. See below.]

Whenever I see my male friends react to female sung music it seems obvious that they're still in the teenage mode though. Where music is wholly tied up with their self-image. This might be a little patronising on my part. Though I think I've earnt it, as there aren't too many straight males that openly walked into HMV at the age of nineteen and bought the Immaculate Collection, because they valued the genius of the music above looking like a blazing homosexual.

There's a social cost to being this honest.

The Twin Forms of Admiration

Above: the two types of admiration.

The role model, or 'man crush,' on the one side.

On the other, the people of the opposite sex that we're attracted to - our actual crush.

In very straight, normie-type people these things tend to be very clearly separated. Music, football, other pursuits are in one category. Supermodels, strippers and sweethearts are in the other. For less orthodox people these two sides can get confused though. (Or synthesised if you develop a self-awareness of it.)

So, in fairness to my friends that don't like 'girly' music, it's largely because they're very straight and normal. It's not a failing per se, though it does limit the parameters of what they allow themselves to like and enjoy.

It's just the way of the world to some extent, and I should know it's foolish to expect them to objectively judge a K-pop song.

A simpler example would be wearing a pink t-shirt. It's not a question of liking it or not liking it. In fact, a man might like the pink t-shirt if it's being worn by Winona Ryder (I've re-watched the movie Heathers recently). It's more that the very notion of wearing a pink t-shirt is off limits to the male mind, as the male self-image precludes it. What with pink being de facto the girl colour.

This all works the same way for women too, of course. Only flipped backwards. They aspire to be like other women and admire men as objects of attraction, not as something to imitate. In a general sense.

It's obvious stuff, but if you point it out to people - especially in relation to their own tastes - they'll shriek and protest that all their judgements are strictly impartial.

It's a very interesting thing to consider in relation to art and music.