Opinion: All hail our new I.H.S Overlords! (Or how to use Jingoism to get TeamGB behind your wacky idea)

Bloggers choice: Today I had two things to potentially write about on here...

1) a light fluff piece gently mocking the N.H.S 'brand' proposals... based around an image that I find amusing

B) A strongly researched and controversial polemic about providing assisted suicide facilities to the physically healthy, but mentally shattered... this would not be a light read. It would be uncomfortable and heavy, like receiving a mercury enema in a gravity well...
Luckily, number 1 wins... fluff rules the day, it's easier to be flippant than to bother with serious research in this humidity to be honest... but stick around for that other one... it will appear eventually... and it'll be a 'Laff Riot' akin to Leigh Francis doing all of his 'character' at you... in a locked room... forever.

So instead of that I bring you fluff... and Fluff that will only deal in boundless positivity...

...and that might be tricky, because I'm planning a fluff piece about changes to the N.H.S... A subject that usually gets all sides in the political spectrum frothing incoherently... much like the 'pro-life debate' for the U.S, it is as divisive as it is obvious who is in the right.

Today the idea was floated to make the N.H.S a global health brand... a provider to the  world, probably on  the back of that very subtle advert Danny Boyle snuck into that Olympic Shindig... with Brand N.H.S's stock being so high it is no surprise that the world is crying out for merchandise: Bieber fans are throwing away posters of their hero and instead putting up N.H.S issue, 'standardised patient assessment sheets' whilst Lady Gaga was seen wrapping herself in N.H.S issue surgical bandage and saying: "Healthcare... I am a snake... the snake is art and my little monsters are provided free at the point of delivery... woop... I have a new single you know"
A phrase which 'Pop Linguistic' experts theorise may 'have something to do with the N.H.S... perhaps'

But how do you sell this idea back home. You could use 'numbers'... blather a load of statistics: 'if we blah blah in overseas markets blee blah blah we could improve investment in Bibble bibble Blee Blah and...'

Of course everyone in Britain knows that any number issued by an authority figure is likely to be utter nonsense... so... you have to appeal to something foreign and strange... something new to the national psyche, in order to  get slip it under the conscious radar and sneak it around the layer of cynicism that makes up 80% of the national character.
 
You have to appeal to 'National Pride'

Before the Olympics, the only thing Britain was honestly proud of was our self-depracation. Now... well... if Bradley Wiggins had asked for a peasants revolt... well, let's just say Westminster would have a row of head on spikes, the country would be renamed 'Team GB' and we would have our first, for life, genuine 'God-King'... and he would be a cyclist...

...and it is in this spirit that the Government needs to market this latest N.H.S change if they want us to really 'go for it'...

This isn't the old N.H.S, sitting around and waiting for illness to come to it, this is Team G.B.N.H.S and its going to chase down bad health, regardless of which country it's skulking in, catch it and kick it's putrid face off, before planting a Union flag in the glistening raw head flesh and singing a rousing rendition of 'Hey ]ude'...

Eventually we'd have Giant Robot Hospitals roaming the world on arachnid-style legs, firing anti-retroviral drugs into mouths of grateful H.I.V sufferers who weep and wave the new flag of the I.H.S, a clenched fist, clutching a syringe, punching a virus in the throat... however that might look.
On the horizon, a great flotilla of giant 'destroyer class' hospitals would rule the waves, surrounding a territory before bombarding it with sexual health advice pamphlets, prescriptions and quality assured surgical implements.

The commandos of this elite I.H.S could invade sovereign nations, bringing healthy foods and forcing a regime of cardio exercise onto people who are, in all honesty, slightly less appreciative than the H.I.V sufferers were.
But still, under the flag of the Great British N.H.S (Brand) they would be welcomed around the world.

The job, to make you healthy, even if they have to fuck you up to do it...

In fact people would be so joyous and grateful that they would spontaneously throw money at this I.H.S, so it could do that most implausible of tasks of being free at the point of delivery whilst still, somehow providing funding for the coffers back home...

The People of the U.K would love this new, go getting, health service more than ever... We'd cheer it on like an Olympic boxer that had won a gold despite 'only getting into the sport a few years ago'... we too would start buying the Team G.B.N.H.S merchandise... the 'official' catheter, the repeat prescription, the essential medical procedure...

...and it would all be so exciting that we'd probably even never notice that it was no longer 'National' or 'Free'...

Opinion: 2 Messy Break-ups at once...surely David Cameron is the unluckiest man who ever lived..

Now that the Olympics are well and truly over and the dust has settled, it's time to take a chilled, dispassionate look at all the winners and Losers... and for once it is utterly clear on this occasion who is who...

There’s something strangely perverse about feeling sorry for David Cameron. Never has a man appeared to be so designed for high office… presumably from conception onwards he was supposed to be 'the boss'... In fact this may have been one of the few occasions that the subject came up during the conception.
"I tell you what dear, if I hit the target with this little blighter, I'm sure our boy... and it will be a boy... will one day use his thoroughbred Genetics and inherited wealth to hold a fractional lead in a messy coalition Government"

Given that, my feeling pity for him must be roughly akin to a levied peasant in Egypt worrying about how the Sun God Ra is getting on with the other Gods.
But I do feel sorry for him. In fact I think he is currently the unluckiest man in the world...

... and here's why;

The Olympics, and lack of  political news have highlighted the fact that D-Cam appears to be going through all the trappings of a very messy break up… except in this case, he's in the impossible position of handling two ex’s at once. Two... and I can tell you that is the most unenviable position in the world.
Making it worse, neither are particularly subtle.. in fact, although very different, both are equally troublesome, publicity happy and keen to tell all of Dave's mates how he was "crap in bed and was scared to pathetic blubbing by the (utterly dreadful) Paranormal Activity films"

Well... Metaphorically speaking of course...

Nick Clegg has taken the route of the 'mopey fantasist' Ex... My personal favourite… He’s wailing about how it was 'That Bastard' who broke the rules of the relationship: "The bastard… *sniff* the utter utter bastard... but, we have to stay together for the children and... *sob*... and I still love him and you know… maybe If I lose that extra pound and *sniff* have my hair done he’ll still want me back… we can still make this partnership work... I know we can... *Massive theatrical breakdown*"

You can imagine Nick starting off the evening by getting ready to go out, putting on new shoes, spending a lot of his time making the new 'break up hair do' look ‘just so’, all whilst listening to inspiring power ballads.

But you can also imagine him ending that same evening having not gone anywhere. Eye make up running down the cheeks, looking at reception pictures of him and Dave in the ‘Rose Garden’ in happier days and instead of ‘I will survive’ he’s snivelling along to ‘The Winner Takes it all’ using an empty gin bottle as a microphone… But on the news.To the whole nation.

And then there’s Boris… The 'Other Ex'

He of course has gone completely the opposite way: genuine confidence, looking great, his new hairdo has worked a treat, and now the serious business of flirting with all of Dave’s old mates can begin.
Now when both of them turn up at the same party, like say, the Olympics, it's the Glamorous Bojo the crowd are all waiting for… nobody looks over at Dave at all, except with shifty, suspicious, sideways glances... and when Bojo finally silks in, all glittering smile and lush barnet, all the heads turn... even Dave's as he is briefly distracted from standing in the corner, trying to appear casual... and as if he still totally belongs there, whilst putting on his best 'Not at all bothered over here' face...

But all the onlookers know what he’s really doing there… You can imagine the conversation going something like:
Wealthy Tory Donor 1: "Oh god HE’s here.."
Wealthy Tory Donor 2: "Well I didn't invite him"
WTD1: "Nobody does these days.. I tell you he better not come over all jealous and make a scene..."
WTD2: "I know... he shows up everywhere... like a stalker..."
WTD1: "Well... I'm not standng for it... Look, if he even looks like he's going over there.. yeah... you just get between them… I reckon I’m going to go for the first dance tonight"

This is Boris being wooed by the city… (apparently)… the form this 'wooing' might take I dread to think. With our BoJo it could be almost anything. The upshot remains the same: some powerful people seem very keen that Boris should be the next Tory candidate to be Prime Minister.

How do we know this, well probably because a completely different group of powerful people have engineered a leak to make it look like the first group of powerful people want him in.. either way at least one group of powerful people genuinely think that their best interests are served with the Ex…
Poor D-Cam knows this… and even as he tries to show himself off at public events, being all 'over the relationship' and 'well casual' and 'proper virile'… he's still got that other ex in the background, snivelling: "No No No... We're together... you need me… we can be back how it was… the Coalition cannot fail..."

...and if you can't feel sorry for that predicament... well... you are either made of stone... or you're one of those ex's mentioned above... and if you are... and you're actually reading this... the message is simple:
"You go girlfriend..."

Internet Holiday, Censorship and Resposibility.

I am a dinosaur of the internet. I was there when it was still a world of hobbyists, undiscovered by advertisers or pornographers. I was in college, studying 'media', we were the only course allowed the passwords to access this exciting, yet slow moving, world of text and low resolution images. Time in this world was strictly metered, and with the limitations of the technology, this meant that most of your visit would have been spent in the online equivalent of an abandoned bus station, waiting for a clapped out Number 7 to take you to the next destination.

I missed the really early days, the days of usenets and newsgroups, purely by virtue of not having the requisite nerdiness to pursue these incomprehensible exchanges. My brother did though, bringing back dispatches from this unusual world and displaying them with a joy I could just about understand. So, computers can 'talk' down phone lines. How could we know how earth shattering that would become?

Now I immerse myself almost totally in the online world. It is where I do most of my work, how I communicate with most of my friends and where I get virtually all of my news. My mobile phone is no longer a phone, more a handheld 'net portal. I know email address's in the way I used to know phone numbers.

I guess that's why I decided to take last week off. Entirely. No Twitter, Email, no News... Oh god... No News... How would I cope with no news and No Twitter... What would happen if I thought of some piece of disposable wit about a political decision? Who would I tell? My girlfriend doesn't actually find me that funny... On the 'net I can usually get a few 'LOL' messages if I fire a good one... Where would I get that pathetic little ego massage that comes with the magic words "... Has retweeted you"

As it was it turned out to be no big deal. Not like an alcoholic saying that they will take a 'month off to prove they don't have a problem' it was more like stopping watching a particular TV show. You find something else to do. You fill the time. You notice, but that's all... I didn't miss it. I read a lot of books, I went out to dinner with my girlfriend (who, now and again, reads this thing - Hello babe!) I hardly thought about Right V Left, or which SPAD had set what stupid thing on Twitter or any of that...

So now I'm back... And it seems I've just missed a Twitter Blackout... Well... I technically took part in it, without really having any intention to do so, or any knowlege of the background. Seems Twitter may censor certain words in certain territories, a plan that certainly fails to acknowledge the creativity of those with 'hidden' messages. Codes and Cyphers stretch back thousands of years, they are a technology as old as the written word.

I have difficulty seeing how they would implement such a scheme, but no difficulty seeing why. After last year, with the Arab Spring, the U.K 'Riots' and subsequent clean-up, the Superinjunction fiasco amongst other events, the pressure on Twitter to take some responsibility for the 'content' must be immense.

Should it be though? Are Nokia responsible for what I blog? How about Apple? I might want to edit this later... Perhaps it's Vodafone's responsibilty... Or even my electric company?
No... It's my fault... Not the fault of those who enable. In the same way that Google are no more at fault for piracy than the street map that directs you to the Market that sells pirate DVDs. The fault, or more precisely the responsibility lies with the originator of the 'content'

Of course I believe that Twitter should not filter content based on region, then again, neither should telephone or Text services... (witness the amazing recent campaign in Pakistan to forbid various words from SMS use... A list which made it round Twitter in about 5 seconds and introduced me to a lot of novel curses, both in Urdu and in English)

That said, the originator should know that free speech always has a price. It may be government harrassment if you disagree with them, or social alienation if you contravene the 'norms'. Every idea worth espousing comes up against some resistance. To be truly brave a person has to put their name behind their opinion.

I, for one, have hid behind the Twitter Hive Mind to voice opinions that I would have felt uncomfortable about otherwise, to engage in debates that I would otherwise excuse myself from either to avoid personal attack (abortion and Religion being the major points that just seem to attract the internet nutters to your door) or to engage in some Spartacus style Streisand-ing and add my voice to a (sometimes illegal) groundswell or meme.

Is it wrong for Twitter itself to want to excuse itself from becoming the mouthpiece for any and all 'anonymous' forces?

It's a difficult question. I love free speech, I'm even able to divorce the concept from the content when some idiot uses it to justify their small minded 'hate Speech' or nonsensical religious bullying. I do worry for it though... I worry that enough people will use it as a shield that it will take on the same perceived tarnish as those once beautiful words 'Human Rights'

Maybe... maybe all of that...
but maybe I've just been reading too much Christopher Hitchens and I need to get myself back on the newstrain... pronto...

Opinion: The Beeb and the Royal British Legion

Ok.. Where were you all... Last night?
All those commentators/reporters/hack who will shriek for a politician to be hung from a lampost via a rectal hook for not sporting a poppy from the first second they come on sale... those people who take pride in the forces to a fetishistic level... where were the howls of delight about the BBC putting The Royal British Legion against the might of the X Factor?

I knew which one I wanted to watch. I never watch the X Factor... even if I had I would have watched the Royal British Legion.. Why?... well as somebody with political views that are... shall we say... 'Out of step'... with both mainstreams, my freedom of thoughts, speech and action are even more important to me.  I also feel immense proud for my brother, who serves in the air-force and my elder relatives, who sacrificed a lot for my freedoms (Which of course include the freedom to challenge the political mindset of the men who sent them to war).

My Granddad would be happy to know I'm wearing a poppy, and although a 'Famous Commentator' has said his Granddad would be appalled, I'm less inclined to worry about that as I have and never will meet him.

I watched the Royal British Legion, and I read the Twitter feed as it went. I was proud and I was moved. It was the kind of thing TV was made for. All the while I could read other people's tweets about how the X Factor had 'Broken' and feel slightly sad for them. Reading Twitter there seemed to be no particular generational or political line.. some were watching one, some the other.

Now... If the BBC weren't there... would there have been that choice?
There were no phone lines that you could make money from, promotion seemed to be brutally restricted to the Royal British Legion Itself, anyone attempting to place adverts within would have found them looking ludicrously inappropriate. Would this even have worked on a commercial station?

The BBC put the British Legion against the Xfactor... I don't know how the numbers totted up... Who 'Won' in that respect... What I do know is that I didn't hear any of those aforementioned commentators backing up the BBC.. not one... Not one of those people who would have liked to see Russell Brand and Wossy kicked from the White Cliffs of Dover in a coffin full of glass actually swallowed it back and said "Well actually, this is what the BBC does very well".

I love the BBC. I feel it is one of our countries greatest cultural achievements, but it is under constant threat from commercial interests disguised (Poorly) as news outlets.

Last night they did exactly what all those pundits said it should be doing, and what was their response?
A silence a lot longer than two Minutes...

Opinion: Winterval Retrospectively Cancelled... PC Gone Mad.

Happy Day. The 'usually flawless' Daily Mail has today announced that the most famous Anti-PC fairytail is in fact a load of utter Bumwash. Winterval was never going to replace Christmas, not even to Placate those tricky Muslamics.

Cards on the table time. I like political correctness. I like having an agreed idea of what it is and isn't 'polite' to say, even if it can be a bit clumsy sometimes. I like that it isn't ok for a Government employee to use racist, sexist, homophobic or transgender baiting language with impunity.

I'm also a passionate advocator of free speech. Is this a contradiction? No... Of course not... Political Correctness doesn't sew up your lips, it can't stop you...All rules can be transgressed. All it does is formalise that some people aren't comfortable with what you might want to say. It makes you think about consequence... About context... About whether the words you say are actually communicating what you intend.

So... Back to Winterval. I've been arguing this with people for over ten years now. I know people who were living there at the time. I knew it was bunk. Whenever I got into the discussion about 'PC gone Mad' this came up, enshrined in the cloak of utter Factiness... "THEY BANNED CHRISTMAS!"

When I explained that they actually didn't I got eye rolls, I got called a naive lefty (I have no political allegiance as it happens) and mostly I got told I was wrong. It was national news, and I was just one person who disagreed.

And now it has been retracted, over a decade too late and with much less fanfare than it was announced... I feel my job is to make sure this gets out as much as possible... This story has done real damage, hitting a hot button for people usually untouched by Religious differences, driving a wedge between the mainly secular public and all those who 'wanted to steal Christmas'... Except they didn't... Of course they didn't... It was a desperate fantasy to sell newspapers and hammer home a terrified, neophobe worldview... a fantasy that has taken far too long to unravel but has finally disintegrated utterly... As I said at the start, Happy Day... I think it's time to celebrate...

Anyone wanna pull a Winterval cracker with me?

To finish, a quick and unconnected Theresa May Joke:
Will you let me in your country? The official guidelines won't... But Theresa May....
Arf.