A comedy of horrors.

The modern world offers you a choice. Utter despair, or laugh like everyone who’s seen Tommy Cooper’s ‘spoon in a jar‘ gag. I think the world went downhill fast when he died – a fearsome Smoky-Drinker and an intelligent clown. I wonder if the young of today can appreciate the humour in this bungling magician (he actually could do it, it was just funnier if it went wrong) and his terrible, but usually hilarious, one-liners.

If there is hope, it lies not in the proles. O’Brien was right, they are animals. Sheep. They do as they are told and demand to be told what to do. They demand that everyone fits the mould they have been forced into, everyone pays the taxes they are forced to pay (it never occurs to them to think ‘if he doesn’t have to pay it, why do i?’). They demand everyone works harder to generate more taxes, everyone watches the mindless nonsense on televison and accepts it as real, everyone fits the British Standard Human definition they are delighted to accept as forced on themselves. They are useless. They do as they are told and they live and die on command.

The hope is in those who reject prole life. Whether they choose to despair at the modern world or laugh at it, those who do not accept it are the ones who hold some hope for a future.

Not me – I’ve been around for over half a century and my life, though thoroughly enjoyable, is bound to be somewhat wearing on the body I have. There was a tale I heard about a researcher who studied the men of Scotland’s remote islands, men who lived on salted fish and whisky. They were in rude health into their eighties then they died suddenly. No slow decline – one day you’re enjoying life, the next day you’ve left it. That researcher reached the conclusion that the islanders were living on two poisons, each the antidote of the other. The excessive salt hardened their arteries while the whisky eased blood flow. Eventually the balance broke and… pop, you’re gone. Sounds good to me. It’s close to what I’ve been doing.

So I have thirty years at most left to giggle and chuckle at a world where a cardboard caterpillar can be charged with smoking, where risk assessors decide that people might dance in a dangerous fashion to the dirge of the British National Anthem (How do you dance in a dangerous fashion, I wonder? Even the Scottish sword dance is only slightly risky and if it was done to ‘God Save Mrs. Queen’ it would be so slow as to be utterly un-dangerous).

A world where children can’t play ‘tag’ because it’s dangerous. Kids used to be able to have some fun in the old days. A world where, at work, I overheard a strapping six-foot young lad declare that the floor I had mopped and put a sign on saying ‘this floor is wet’ was dangerous. Really? What the hell use would he have been in my lab then? A lab full of seriously dangerous things you can’t see but which could blast your last three meals out of every available orifice and then you die in pain in a pool of your own vomit and shit. All it would take is one mistake. A wet floor, with a sign on it saying  ‘wet floor’, dangerous? The weakness of modern people amazes and, often, amuses me.

Yes, I torment these feeble drones with made-up stories of the horrors that ‘could happen’. Why not? They are conditioned to be scared of what ‘could happen’ and let’s be honest, if I don’t use them for amusement, they are no bloody use for anything else. Imagine a future army full of people terrified of guns and knives. I do not want to live to see the inevitable result of that.

There is a silver lining. There will always be the rebels, the non-conformists – and I do not mean the hippies who refused to ‘conform’ by wearing a damn flowery uniform and all living the same way. I mean those who look at the world and either shake their heads in despair or just burst out in fits of laughter. It’s a comedy of horrors we live in now, run by people we could replace with chimps and see a vast improvement.

The controllers and their drones will not win. They cannot win, they have never won. They banned hard drugs and look how that turned out. They banned handguns and arrested grannies whose fathers had left a rusty Luger in the attic as a war memento, while Filthy McEvil and his drug gang are all armed with shiny Uzis and nobody seems to mind. They banned the carrying of knives and stabbings rocketed.

They struck at tobacco and we learned the truth behind the propaganda we had previously accepted. We learned that it grows perfectly well in the UK, we found alternatives to the packaging, we re-learned pipe smoking and found tubing – the latter was a niche market before they forced us to look at it. Plain packaging? Bring it on, fewer and fewer of us buy any packaged stuff any more. I see Tesco profits were massively down at their last report and I wonder how much of that was down to the daft shutters at the tobacco counters? I will not buy things I cannot see.

Electrofags came into existence as a direct result of the smoking ban. Yes, the Puritans made them happen. Can’t smoke? Okay, we’ll invent something that looks exactly the same but isn’t. Go on, Puritans, let’s see you ban steam. They have tried and they’ll try again.

They hit drinking, and homebrew is on the rise again. My first batch of plum wine is still bubbling at just over one gloop per second so it could turn out to be particularly vicious. I hope so. Basic beer and wine brewing is astonishingly easy and when the doc asks how many units you drink, you’ll have no idea at all. I don’t even know how many cigarettes I smoke, I just make them as needed. Strength? Not a clue. Don’t care. Thanks, ASH.

I wonder how many are re-learning the art of deep-frying in preparation for the attacks on fast foods? How many are investing in lard and salt stocks before those are banned too? If lard is banned, one Prescott could supply at least a county with pure rendered fat for a month and many other politicians could finally be proved similarly useful.

There will be some rebels. You can’t see them, you can’t smell them and you can’t work out who they are. Tobacco plants have the advantage that they don’t look like anything more than a tall plant with flowers on the top. They look like a shot cabbage. Not as easily identifiable as pot (although I do recall reports of police impounding tomato plants they thought were cannabis so if you let a cabbage shoot, expect helicopters at dawn).

The loonies work on our side. They always do, they are just too dim to realise it. Look at this silly image of tobacco harm (link left by stopcpdotcom). None of those things apply to me and I have been smoking for well over 30 years. I have been mistaken for a nonsmoker on many occasions and was once asked by a student why I didn’t stink of smoke when she knew I was a smoker. It’s because I wash. Nonsmokers don’t always bother with that. The rabid ones – antismokers – thnk in logic that tells them ‘Smokers stink. I don’t smoke,. therefore I cannot stink’ and it can be eye-watering to be in the same room as them. Fortunately more and more nonsmokers (not antismokers, they are beyond any level of sense) are realising that the things done to smokers are coming their way too. Normal nonsmokers haven’t even noticed tobacco smoke. Shocking, for the drones.

No matter how bad it gets there will always be some who see the absurdity in the drone-fears and who laugh at the comedy horrors.

The proles/drones? Worthless. They will do as they are told and live someone else’s life while insisting they are doing what they really want – and they are the ones telling us we are in denial. Let them. These people don’t matter at all. They are not even real. They are someone else’s construct living life from a script and thinkng they have free will while gladly boarding the free rie to the abbatoir. They cannot be helped because they don’t want help. Stop trying. Let them go.

It’s a funny old world out there. Laugh at it or cry at it,  but never just accept it.

I think I’ll end with a song. There has been an outbreak of underdog songs lately, some good, some terrible, some in between, but I like this one. Could be because it mentions trains…

29 thoughts on “A comedy of horrors.

  1. I was thinking much the same when I read this article yesterday, The little-told story of the massive WWII pet cull. It’s very rare I read anything from the BBC, but this intrigued me.

    And yes – the Government speaks and people obey. It would be so easy for them to create a panic of Biblical proportions by simply saying a few words and printing a leaflet.

    At the beginning of World War II, a government pamphlet led to a massive cull of British pets. As many as 750,000 British pets were killed in just one week. This little-discussed moment of panic is explored in a new book.

    The cull came as the result of a public information campaign that caused an extraordinary reaction among anxious Britons.

    In the summer of 1939 just before the outbreak of war, the National Air Raid Precautions Animals Committee (NARPAC) was formed. They drafted a notice – Advice to Animal Owners.

    The pamphlet said: “If at all possible, send or take your household animals into the country in advance of an emergency.” It concluded: “If you cannot place them in the care of neighbours, it really is kindest to have them destroyed.”

    The advice was printed in almost every newspaper and announced on the BBC. It was “a national tragedy in the making”, says Clare Campbell, author of new book Bonzo’s War: Animals Under Fire 1939 -1945.

    The first bombing of London in September 1940 prompted more pet owners to rush to have their pets destroyed.

    Many people panicked, but others tried to restore calm. “Putting your pets to sleep is a very tragic decision. Do not take it before it is absolutely necessary,” urged Susan Day in the Daily Mirror.

    But the government pamphlet had sowed a powerful seed.

    “People were basically told to kill their pets and they did. They killed 750,000 of them in the space of a week – it was a real tragedy, a complete disaster,” says Christie Campbell, who helped write Bonzo’s War.

    But, nevertheless…

    And even though there was just four staff at Battersea, the home managed to feed and care for 145,000 dogs during the course of the war.


  2. Ah, Tommy Cooper. He was positively sublime. He realised that terrible one-liners, delivered right, were in many ways funnier (because they were so terrible) than cleverly constructed one-liners were. Pure genius.

    Thanks for the link to the Don Martin strip; I’d forgotten about him. Mad Magazine was a regular read for me back in the early / mid 60s. Don Martin’s characters were like nothing else around at the time. Bloody brilliant. Is ‘Mad’ still going? If it is, I’ll wager it has knuckled under to the PC tyrants by now. They all do, sadly.


    • I used to have a lot of the paperback books, including the one Don Martin did of ‘Fester and Karbunkle’, and the one of ‘Captain Klutz’. I have no idea what happened to those. With a bit of luck they’ll still be in my mother’s attic somewhere.

      One day I will pluck up the courage to actually look at the junk up there.


  3. Leggy, I do think that being born a few years after WW2 and growing up during the Cold War, fully aware that there were Russian warheads pointing right at us, ready to launch at any second and exactly what would happen if they did, has probably given our generation a more balanced understanding of risk.


    • But it was our generation that started all this crap, (born 1960) or even the one before, so I can not see that applying.

      We were banned from playing conkers in our school WAY before it was a “national” thing, we were also banned from taking toy guns to school, and climbing trees and rock-faces. (we had an old quarry at the back of our school. 🙂 )

      All in the late 60s early 70s.


      • I think you will find that is was started by the generation before the generation before us.

        “Godber recollected that he had said in 1962 to Keith Joseph, another of his Conservative ministers, that “we really have to do something about abolishing smoking” (having won the approval of the Health Minister Enoch Powell). Joseph looked quite shocked and said: “You really can’t expect to abolish smoking.” Godber replied: “No, but I want to see it reduced to an activity of consenting adults in private.”

        Medicine and the Public: The 1962 Report of the Royal College of Physicians and the New Public Health
        Virginia Berridge

        “The idea of outlining specific courses of action was anathema to a society that associated “propaganda” with wartime central direction, and with earlier Nazi propaganda. Health education at this time placed its faith in the citizenship of its recipients. One can see the government departments edging toward this change in the discussion of smoking, prodded also by tensions in the organization and funding of health education.

        The civil servant Enid Russell Smith, always an incisive analyst of events, commented in 1962 that government could draw in future on two things: parents’ concern for their children, and the changes taking place in the medical profession.
        Publicity would have the authority of the profession.

        So far, she commented, the state had not sought to protect individuals from doing harm to their own health if they were not harming the health of others; alcohol was an exception to the rule, and also drugs of addiction, but for both it was the social consequences rather than individual health that was paramount.

        The new line might be that the costs fell on the state, and so government should stop people from damaging their health—but, she commented presciently, once government took on this role, it would not stop at smoking”

        The Chief Medical Officer George Godber was already planning to turn me into an outcast when I was just eight years old.


        • Sorry Rose, I took it as being about the whole “Health & Safety” thing.

          The start, as I see it was the seat belts on motorbikes law….. Sorry helmets on motorbikes, it all appears to have gone pear shaped from there.

          Smoking in-particular, o.k. I will give you that.


          • 21 Mar 1956
            Motor Cyclists (Crash Helmets)

            Mr Anthony Kershaw (Stroud)

            “asked the Minister of Transport and Civil Aviation whether in view of the continued high rate of fatal accidents involving motor cyclists, he will now make obligatory the wearing of suitable crash helmets by motor cyclists.”

            Mr Arthur Molson (High Peak)

            “While I agree that suitable crash helmets afford useful protection, we prefer to rely on education and propaganda to persuade motor cyclists to wear them.”

            Mr Anthony Kershaw (Stroud)

            “Is my hon. Friend aware that a situation in which there are 18,000 accidents a year, killing 1,300 people, at a cost of, perhaps, £4 million to £5 million in hospital expenses, cannot be allowed to continue indefinitely?

            Will he not look at it again to see whether, for the protection of other people as well of these young men, the wearing of crash helmets should not be made compulsory?”

            It was the crash helmet law that first alerted me to government mission creep.
            It was MY head.


              • [URL=http://s1358.photobucket.com/user/furor_teutonicus1/media/MAGMOTORCYCLEACTIONGROUP_zpscb4f9c4d.jpg.html][IMG]http://i1358.photobucket.com/albums/q780/furor_teutonicus1/MAGMOTORCYCLEACTIONGROUP_zpscb4f9c4d.jpg[/IMG][/URL]

                Na. My conversation with M.A.G some time ago.

                1973 they started with the helmets.


                • And yet another reason I like living in Greece.

                  I never wear a helmet when I’m out on my bike or scooter. I hate the bloody things. They interfere with my hearing (very important for spatial awareness) and they impede my peripheral vision (also critical when you’re on a bike).

                  But most of all, I love the feeling of the wind rushing through my hair (I’m using a bit of poetic licence here – I actually don’t have very much hair at all, but I’m sure you get my drift…), and the feeling of freedom it engenders. Of course, they have a helmet law here, but you will only get prosecuted for it if the police are tasked with staking out a spot to specifically stop and fine riders not wearing helmets (ie most Greeks on bikes). It’s essentially a revenue raising exercise, and if those same cops see you not wearing a helmet when they’re just driving down the road, they’ll completely ignore you. Likewise seatbelts (which I also never wear – I just feel it’s being fatalistic). Unless the cops are on a ‘seatbelt fining stakeout’, they will ignore it.

                  And the smoking bans? Well…

                  Greece has many faults, but enforcing laws which curtail freedom and lifestyle isn’t one of them.


                    • We certainly are. I have a trail bike (which I ride in the summer only; I’m a fairweather rider), and my wife has a point and squirt 50cc scooter, which I also ride sometimes. But you also commonly see guys on superbikes zapping around helmetless, and it’s interesting to note that in the summer there are quite a few tourists from Germany who ride down on their BMW tourers, and the first thing they do on hitting Greece is to take off their helmets. They love it.


        • In my little slice of Heaven, I am forbidden, for my own safetly, from riding in or operating an automobile without using seat belts.

          While riding my motorcycle, however, a helment is optional.

          It is difficult to explain, if you’ve not seen government in action before.


    • The Cold War might have had something to do with it. The idea that we could all be obliterated at any moment and that we could do nothng at all about it meant that the IRA were just an irritation. Why give up freedoms to be safe from the IRA when we might be atomised in the next ten minutes?

      Also, back then, we didn’t think there was any way to live forever. Now the drones think they will, if they do as the NHS tells them.


    • Has it an NI number? A work contract?

      Surely the Inland revenue and the DWP should be investigating this unregistered employee IMMEDIATELY!?

      In fact….if someone gave it a name, and kind of filled a few forms in, and sent an annomynous tip off to the bru….


    • The correct answer is “Oh aye then? Alright, I reckon I’ll take my chances and even if I lose, it’ll be worth it to see you load of nitwits stand up in court and claim that a wooden cut-out of a bloody caterpillar smoking is illegal. So, run along little boy, report back to the grown-ups and see if they agree with you. Go on, shooo!”


      • I would agree. But do shops need some kind of “licence to trade” in the U.K?

        If they take that away, similar to a local magistrate canceling a “spirits licence” for a pub or an “Off licence” could mean immediate closure, awaiting a court decision.

        COULD this twat close the shop down?


      • That’s pretty much what she said. I picture the indignant jobsworth reporting back, only to be faced with ‘You did WHAT? Oh, I hope the Daily Mail doesn’t get hold of this’.


    • They have to wear a helmet to do headstands now? In junior school in the late sixties, kids did headstands against the wall, in a concrete playgound, with no adult supervision at all. I don’t recall any of them being damaged in any way at all.


  4. Don’t forget those goal post moving badgers managed to evade death by experienced marksmen appointed by politicians and the NFU simply by well I don’t know how they did it really but the politician in charge said they moved goalposts so they must have done!


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