Boris and The Mask

I thought ‘The Mask’ was a great film. Loads of laughs. Of course, if face coverings had been banned back then, the film would probably never have been made.

Big burly buffoon Boris Johnson is in trouble over a mask. The ‘niqab’ that some Muslim women in the West, and many (in some countries, all) in the Arab world  use to cover their faces. He likened it, quite fairly I thought, to dressing up as a letterbox. It does look a bit silly but we in the West, especially in the UK, have a tolerance for those who like to dress up silly. We’ve never tried to ban Pearly Kings and Queens nor have we ever tried to ban the astonishingly silly dress of the Morris dancer. It has never occurred to anyone to ban those things.

Now we have a call to ban an article of clothing. This is something new and I, for one, am not comfortable with it.

Let’s be clear. It’s the niqab, not the hijab, that is the issue. The hijab is the headscarf thing. My grandmother, a staunch and sometimes slightly violent Christian of iron and coal mining extraction, never left the house without a hairnet and headscarf on her blue hair. Never. She spent money on hairdressing and blue rinses that nobody outside the house ever saw. I doubt she had ever even heard of Islam even though the last Caliphate ended in 1924, when she would have been around 30. The headscarf is no issue at all for me.

The niqab is the mask that covers all the face except the eyes. Some even have mesh over the eyes so you can’t see those either. Personally, I don’t like talking to someone so masked because I have no visual cues to judge the veracity of their words. Also, if they stab me, I can’t give the police a description.

But then, are they the only masked ones? Antifa are masked violent thugs. Nobody has demanded their masks are banned. The ‘Anonymous’ movement hides behind the Guy Fawkes mask from ‘V for Vendetta’. Any campaign to ban those?

How about bridal veils? You could be marrying anyone! What if you lift that veil and find a bearded Darren with three teeth and halitosis at the end of your vows? Should we ban wedding veils?

Old Holborn made the point very well on Twitter today. I can’t be arsed seeking out the actual tweet, that place scrolls too fast, but the essence was ‘Banning the veil and enforcing the veil are the same thing’.

He is right. Either of those things is enforcing what women can and cannot wear by law. Both are wrong. A better law is ‘forcing someone to wear a niqab is illegal’. That law punishes the enforcer, not the one being forced to comply.

And it’s the enforcer who is the real criminal here.

See, prosecuting a woman for wearing the veil is a bit like prosecuting someone for getting beaten up. You’re taking someone oppressed and oppressing them more.

The law ‘forcing someone to wear a niqab is illegal’ also means that if a woman wants to wear a veil, that’s fine. As long as nobody is forcing them to wear it.

The rule about no face coverings in banks and some other places still stands. If you go into a bank wearing any kind of mask you cannot be surprised if security take you down fast. Banks and masked people have a bit of a history there.

If you want to wear a mask in the street, fine. I will avoid any contact with you because you’re weird but I would not support any ban on you being weird. It should be your choice.

When France suggested banning the veil, I was uneasy. Denmark has banned it now and it looks like a lot of other EU countries including the UK are considering it too. The thing is, they don’t ban ‘the niqab’. The ban ‘face coverings’. All face coverings.

China uses CCTV with facial recognition. I was most impressed that they can tell the diference between Chinese people (channeling Prince Philip here) but if you have CCTV with facial recognition, it won’t work if your face is covered. The niqab is a really good excuse to ban all face coverings – even a scarf over your nose and mouth in winter.

Boris should not be forced to apologise over his remarks.  I really hope he won’t. The British take the piss out of everything – or used to – including and especially ourselves. Nothing was immune. If a religion – any religion – is so insecure that any comment aimed at them sends them into apoplexy, then they are following a very sad and weak god indeed. If your god cannot withstand a few snarky comments, then you really do need a better god.

As we need a better Prime Monster. Tessie ‘Jackboots’ Maybe is pushing Boris to apologise. In doing so she has set a challenge. If he does, then the rest of the Tory party are a bunch of tiddly lapdogs to political correctness and nobody will vote for them. If he says ‘Stick it up your censored hole’ then the last shreds of Tessie’s authority are gone faster than third hand smoke in a dry cleaner’s. Either way, she is toast. The first option takes the entire Tory party down. Let’s wait and see what the rest of their members think.

Banning face coverings is, as Old Holborn said, the same as enforcing it. It’s using law to force people to dress as directed. Nobody, anywhere, has suggested a law to punish those who force women to wear masks against their will. The Muslim patriarchy is sacrosanct, it seems.

I have recently wondered if Jacob Rees-Mogg would be our Chancellor Sutler.

Now I wonder if it’s going to be Boris.

If you haven’t seen, or better, read, ‘V for Vendetta’, it’s worth your time.

Just keep in mind that in real life, there is no hero coming to change it.

You’ll have to do that yourself.


Back to work

Well, June has ended and so has my little break from work. Back to full steam ahead tomorrow. I have a Dutch version of Justin Sanebridge’s ‘The Goddess of Protruding Ears’ to put out first, which won’t take long because he’s done all the hard stuff and therefore I’m open for submissions.

There will be a Halloween anthology and a Christmas one, I’ll be looking for stories from the beginning of September and from late October for those respectively. September to Christmas is likely to be pretty busy on anthologies but before and after that, loads of time.

There is a short short stories book, a scientific treatise and a potential new novel on the way but I don’t have a definite time frame for those. Writing is like that, it happens when it happens.

Plus, of course, some of my own stuff.

I’ve been watching the world descend into madness this month and I am certain there are violent times ahead. Vigilantism is on the rise on all sides. The government doesn’t seem to want to even admit it’s happening, much less try to deal with the issues that are causing it. Oh they won’t deal with the issues of course. They’ll try to deal with the vigilantes and thereby make things far, far worse.

Tessie ‘Jackboots’ May is going to fuck up Brexit. It’s going to be an absolute shambles, neither one thing nor the other. Add that to the fizzing fury already on the streets and I, for one, will be glad I live way out in the wilds.

But, serious stuff is for tomorrow. My last few hours of relaxing (well, apart from dealing with a tax form that’s changed this year and confused the hell out of me – but that’s done now) are not going to be marred with politics.

Yesterday was an unusually warm and sunny day. The sky turned so blue I almost called the police to report the aberration but then they’d all be on Farcebok and Twatter so it seemed more useful to post pictures where they’d see them.

If I add one word here – Islam – it will flag this post for police attention and they’ll see the strange blue sky phenomenon and maybe do something about it. It’s causing serious eye strain.

Well, since it wasn’t raining, CStM and I ventured forth to visit something we’ve lived near for two years and never seen. Gight Castle. It’s a ruin and you have to walk maybe 20-30 minutes from the car park to find it. You could walk there in a lot less time if you don’t bother looking at the scenery but if you’re not looking at the scenery it’s a wasted walk. So we didn’t rush.

The path is pretty much a North of Scotland A-road – it certainly has fewer potholes than most of the other roads around here. Maybe because cars aren’t allowed on it.

It gets into some deep woodland. Bright and sunny day, but stray six feet off the path and you’re in darkness. I bet it’s fantastic at night.

Anyway, we got to the castle and… it’s a bit of a shithole. Could do with a gardener, could have done with one 40 years ago at least and if I was selling it I’d have to come up with something more appealing than ‘a fixer-upper’.

It does have some interesting features and it would be worth restoring – although you’d have to be a major lottery winner to even get started. Would it be worth doing?

You’d have this view:

And this:

But you probably wouldn’t get any mail delivered. No postman is going to take a 40 minute walk to drop a bank statement through your door. In winter you would need your own snow plough to get  to the main road (which is itself an unlit winding country road) so you’d probably be best to stock up with food and hole up until the snow melts.

Oh, and you’ll need a generator. It’s several miles to the nearest electricity supply. Also a well pump and a septic tank. Or get used to walking down to the river with a bucket and/or a roll of paper.

It would be a fantastic place to live. The darkness in this farmhouse is total on a moonless night but out there it would be positively primeval. But, you know, we’ve gone a bit soft these days. I recall shivering until the coal fire got going enough to melt the ice on the inside of the windows. Now I set the central heating to come on half an hour before I have to get up and do I want to go back? Well… no, not really.

We do save on our heating bills with the wood burning stove but would I want to go back to having to shiver out of bed and light it, then wait until it warms up the one room it’s in? The beauty of granite of course is that it warms up a lot more than that one room as the heat spreads through the stone, but that’s also the downside of granite.

When it’s cold outside, those stones are very cold. Sustained sunshine and it’s like living inside a storage heater. The granite holds the heat of the sun and lets it out all night.

Gight Castle is made of granite. No surprise, pretty much everything in this part of Scotland is made of granite. We have loads of it. The castle would have had huge fireplaces and plebs to light them before Lord Byron felt a hint of a shiver. Bringing it back to life in the modern world would be massively expensive and seriously hard work.

It would be great though, wouldn’t it? I think I could only do it with a massive rollover lottery win where I was the only winner and even then it would be a tight budget.

But then, since I never buy lottery tickets, my chances of winning are slightly less than someone who does buy them.

If you look this place up and want to visit you will see options for getting there by public transport. Do not fall for this. Two buses a day pass the entrance, one at 6 am and one at 5 pm. There are no other buses, no trains and the nearest taxi rank is in Ellon, about 12 miles away. You drive or walk here.

And if you walk, you will walk from Methlick (about 6 buses a day, it’s a teeming metropolis – it has a shop! And a tractor dealership) for about an hour along a winding unlit country road with no pavements that is used by Audi driving madmen as a race track.

If you survive to almost-there you could call in on CStM and me for a cuppa.

If you arrive in the morning you can wait in the garage.

Rest period

All the books in the backlog are published so I’m taking a break before the next ones arrive. I should work on some of mine in this hiatus too. I am also transferring the mass of accumulated crap from my old computer onto a new one but I’m planning to sort through it on the way rather than transfer everything, including the stuff I don’t need any more. I don’t want to bog this one down like I did with the last one!

I have also finally relented and bought an Android phone to replace the Windows one. So I’ll have to move all that shit too. The Windows phone still works fine but it’s way too limited in terms of what apps it can access. My refusal to buy any Apple products still stands – the time they declared their warranties void for smokers is never going to be forgotten. I don’t care if they relented, I don’t care if they ever apologise. People who believe a molecule of nicotine can get into a phone and then kill the phone repairer are not the kind of people I will ever buy expensive electronics from. Being a gullible idiot is not a good marketing strategy.

I’ll now have time to look at how crazy the world has become while I was too busy to take much notice. A quick glance suggests that some parts are getting crazier and other parts are moving towards a bit less crazy.

Austria and Italy seem to have taken the stance of the Eastern European countries and are not taking any more nonsense from the EU, nor from the mass of ungrateful bastards they have given a new home to. Sweden, too, seems to be moving towards a less tolerant attitude to rape, murder and general violence. About bloody time.

That won’t happen here in the UK as long as Jackboots May is in charge. She’s still obsessed with controlling the internet and with buggering up Brexit negotiations. It won’t happen with Crackpot Corbyn in charge either. Our best bet is, unfortunately, Jacob Rees-Mogg. I say ‘unfortunately’ even though I agree with almost everything he says (apart from the religious dogma stuff) because he almost exactly fits the character description of Chancellor Sutler in ‘V for Vendetta’. I’d vote for him, yes, but with reservations.

Anyway, there are likely to be a few weeks of rage fuelled blog posts coming up, interspersed with some model making stuff. This is because I have had some G scale stuff here for some time and swore to do nothing with it until all the current publishing was done. Last night I set up a small test track in the kitchen…

The track gauge is 45mm and the engine (I have two now) is radio controlled. This means I can use plastic track which is a hell of a lot cheaper than brass track and since there are no power lines to the track, foldback loops are possible. A loop that goes back to the same track. Live track can’t do that without serious and fiddly wiring and operation. Any track configuration is possible, there is nothing to short circuit.

Points are way cheaper in plastic too. You can get one for about £8 while a brass one is going to hit you for £30 or more.

Both engines can be run from one controller, even though they are on different frequencies. Alternatively they can be run from two controllers so there is scope for two operators. They do have sound, which can be switched off. I like the sounds but CStM says they sound like they’re haunted. That might be why I like them…

Scale is 1:22.5 so all those 1/24 scale truck models are close enough. They’ll fit on the flat wagons.

Expensive? It can be, but I’m using mostly Chinese models sold by EastCoastRotor on eBay. Supplemented with whatever I can get cheap on eBay. Sure, it’s not as good as original LGB or Piko but it’s pretty damn good anyway. I have a box car with sliding doors (no big deal, I had vans with sliding doors in N gauge) but in this scale the door latches work. Yeah. You close the door and latch it closed.

A coach is about £30, a box van around £20. This is really not much different to what you’d pay for OO gauge brand new. I had an advantage in that I sold a website ( so had an unexpected source of play money but really this is not out of most people’s range. Unless you want brass track and the really high end stuff – which, if I could afford to splash out that much, I would have. This stuff is plenty good enough for me though. The doors on the coaches open and the roof unclips so you can put people inside. The upgrade possibilities are huge.

Oh I still have all the 00 gauge stuff, some of which I will sell off because I have way more than I’ll ever use now. I had started picking up a few bits of 0 gauge but I’ll sell those on because 0 gauge has now been eclipsed by G. There are quite a few bits of N gauge around including a 9F that I just can’t part with (I still have the 00 gauge 9F I bought in 1976, and there are two of them now).

I even have an 009 engine I made many years ago but never did anything with. It still works, I think, but I’d probably sell it. I’m never going to build an 009 narrow gauge railway now I have a G scale one.

Quick bit of geekery – Gauge 1 uses the same track as G scale but it’s to scale with the ‘real’ trains. G scale is bigger because it’s narrow gauge on gauge 1 track. 009 is basically 00 scale narrow gauge using N gauge (9mm) track. If you’re lost here, you need to take a course in geekery.

Okay. I have not looked at the Daily Outrage for a long time. It’s time to get that rage going again. At least until I immerse myself in the world of publishing once again. It’s a welcome break, I must admit, from a business that is 100% white and straight (I believe the new word for ‘normal’ is ‘cis’) and I fully expect to have to paint half of myself black in the name of diversity any day now. I’d go for the bottom half, if the rumours are true.

Not tonight though. It’s way too late for such madness. Instead, have a look at the ‘also available’ page for the next Leg Iron Book.

I don’t yet know what the next one will be but I know this will be the final page.



Something, most likely a tractor with a wide load, has knocked over the phone pole at the bottom of the drive.

No landline or internet for a few days. This will delay author payments this quarter and I have no access to the main email accounts either so hopefully they all still read the blog.

It’s tough enough just putting this post up using the phone. I’ll be back when the wires are fixed. Hopefully soon! 

 UPDATE It’s already fixed! Just over 24 hours – pretty impressive.

Starbucks’ bogs

I spent four years as a janitor in the down times. This is no time to discuss the reason I fell, she’s gone now. Before that I was a successful microbiologist, working as a lecturer, researcher and consultant and I still am, really. The ‘doctor’ title is one I earned. It’s not linked to the job. Sometimes the spectre of microbiology work resurfaces but I’m not sure I care any more. Science is so thoroughly ruined by all the well publicised fakery out there I’d rather not be one. So now I’m a publisher. Fledgeling but getting the hang of it.

I worked as a janitor in a shop. The bottom of the pile, the Dalit of the retail world, despite being slightly better paid than most of the shelf stackers and till bleepers. It took them a year to find out I was a doctor. It took one of them two years to find out my name wasn’t Alan because I kept answering to it.

I learned a lot. I learned why shop-based food poisoning occurs. I learned how the very structure of a food shop makes such outbreaks close to inevitable. I’m not parting with that for free. I might drop bits here and there to get the right people interested but if you ever want a full report it’s going to cost. I also, subsequently, found out that nobody gives a shit. So I’ll probably never write that report.

Anyway. The shop had a small cafe and also a small toilet block. I wasn’t happy with the arrangement, the toilets should have been attached to the cafe not off into the food aisles but they rented the premises so couldn’t really do much about it.  Management at least had the sense to surround the toilet entrance with greetings cards, wrapping paper and household goods like paper towels. So you didn’t come out with shitty hands and immediately paw the precooked meats. Management, in some areas, weren’t total idiots.

We Secret Ninja Cleaners cleaned those toilets once an hour. Does that sound excessive? Someone shitted up one of those toilets five minutes after I cleaned it. Once, at the end of a shift, I had refilled the paper towel holders and when Mopman took over, he said the paper towels in the gents had run out. Impossible. I put three packs in the dispenser only an hour earlier.

It turned out an OCD sufferer with handwashing problems had used all the paper towels and flushed them. The resulting blockage backed up all the toilets and required expert plumbing assistance to sort out – at massive cost.

There was a time when someone’s arse exploded in the disabled toilet. The consequence was indescribable. As someone who has spent his life dealing with intestinal contents I was the most qualified person within 30 miles to deal with this situation – but not on janitor pay. I refused.

They had to get in a professional shit-stirrer in a hazmat suit who demanded a signature for disposing of hazardous waste. I was right – and so was the assistant manager who would not let his staff touch this. If someone’s arse exploded like that then the spatter (pebbledash, there was a hell of a lot of it) might well be infected with something horrible and staff handling food for sale should never be anywhere near it.

The overall manager disagreed. He thought that if the (doctor of microbiology) janitor won’t touch it, his (largely school kids on pocketmoney) staff could easily deal with it. Fortunately he wasn’t on that time.

The toilets were not technically open to the public but the buggers used them anyway. You couldn’t stop them. How can you prove they weren’t planning to go to the cafe or load a trolley after they had a dump? There was one suited shit who’d come in, pick up a basket, and leave a few minutes later placing the empty basket back in the stack. He probably still does it. Not my problem now.

We didn’t have an entry code for the bogs. You didn’t have to buy anything to use them. So we got all kinds of weirdoes in there. I once found a drunk asleep in there and throught I had found my first Bog Body. Unforunately the chavvy cunt was alive. He was picked up by the police (they used to care about real offline crimes) a few shops away where he was being extra cunty.

Starbucks, after a single incident where a non-customer was refused the pee code, now have their bogs open to all and sundry. So they are full of junkies and dirty protestors. Who would expect that?

Now… Starbucks are virulently antismoking so I don’t go there anyway. This whole story has no relevance to me personally. I have no reason (apart from a bit of gloating) to delight in this news.

I see it more as a warning to other businesses who are planning to capitulate to the New Puritans.

They want to destroy capitalism and that’s you. Yeah. That’s you, that is.

And you silly fuckers are agreeing to it.

Lucozade, Ribena, Starbucks, bye bye you capitalist self righteous suicides.

We know a song about that, don’t we?

Not the best of days

Today was fine and sunny but I have achieved very little. Why? Well, I woke up with a gut rumbling like Vesuvius. Then it erupted (I made it, just in time).

It didn’t feel like an infection, more like I reacted badly to something I’ve eaten. No idea what. Still, it left me feeling literally drained all day. I’m now recovering with some chilli peanuts and whisky.

Mark Ellot’s book ‘Rebellion’ now has the right ‘click to look inside’ on Amazon but is still linked to two five star reviews from an entirely different book. Sigh. I expect they’ll work it out eventually. At least they are five star reviews so as long as nobody actually reads them we can take it as the ‘bank error in your favour’ card in Monopoly. It’s still wrong though – that book deserves its own five star reviews.

Outside, the grass mocks me. It’s fine enough to cut it and I have begun the process of digging out the intense weed infestation of the flower beds but I dared not stray too far from the bathroom today. Hopefully I will be in gardening mood tomorrow. I am using my favourite flower bed technique – scorched earth gardening – in which I entirely remove the top layer which is full of weeds and weed seeds. It’s very effective. And when the flower beds are clear I have a small bag of seed potatoes to put in. Well, they have flowers on them eventually so it counts.

There is always a silver lining though. My physical incapacitation means I have made progress on Lee Bidgood’s cover image today. Pencil drawings are now being inked and will soon be ready for colour. I could short-circuit this one with a photoshop cover but it needs something much better. Eyecatching. Boobs.

Also an orange Lada, a transsexual policeman and a Fred Flintstone slide. There are many more elements from the book I’d love to include but  it would take months so I have forced myself to limit the hints.

I could have done without a day of exploding arse but it’s in the family. Dodgy guts are an occasional reminder of my genetics. I have no idea what sets them off – I’m not lactose intolerant and not allergic to gluten although I wonder if an overload of those things might be responsible. Lactose and wheat are in so many things now.

Once Lee’s book is done I am considering revamping some of the earlier books with original artwork covers. It’ll take time but could be worthwhile.

Changes at the top

Quick update on the publishing first – I have completed proofreading on Longrider’s new novel and sent it back for final checking. He has provided covers which saves me a lot of time. Lee Bidgood’s interior is finalised, I just need to finish the cover. I seem to have been over-ambitious in trying to do it on canvas so have reverted to paper. I am nowhere near skilled enough to draw fine detail on canvas! So both books have missed my hoped-for April finish but not by very much.

Once these are done I’ll take a couple of weeks off. The weather is still cold here, we had a torrential hailstorm on Friday which penetrated the roofing tiles (fixed now, I hope) and flooded the utility room again. Gardening isn’t really getting far this week. Plus, a load of big model trains is due soon so I have to get this workload finished!

Most current events have passed me by in this intense work period but I did note the departure of Amber Rudd as Home Officer. I had, I admit, hoped she would be replaced by Jacob Rees-Mogg but May won’t let him near the cabinet. He’s far too big a risk for her to deal with, he might undermine her plans for ‘Brexit in name only’ and, as she is now under the Thatcher-like Sword of Damocles, he would be a natural replacement. She’ll keep him in the shadows.

The House of Lards, populated with dusty codgers, ex-Cabinet criminals and EU stooges for the most part, seems to think it can overturn Brexit. No, it can’t. The leaving is irrevocable. However, with May giving in to any and all demands of the EU, we could end up as a vassal state. Forced to implement every deranged rule from Brussels while having no say.

Politicians never learn, do they? They watch those wedges driven in, they comply with all demands and they actually believe it will be the last one every time.

Minimum pricing for alcohol is now in effect in Scotland. This is not going to only affect cheap hooch, it will put up the price of whiskies too. A 70cl bottle cannot be below £14 unless they dilute it and none of the grain whiskies (a few were below £14 when on special offer) will want to be labelled ‘minimum price booze’. There is unlikely to be anything priced at exactly the minimum.

The good whiskies will maintain the price differential by increasing their prices too. But – only in Scotland. Amazon are likely to see a lot of activity from me soon, since they sell whisky at English prices. If I lived closer to the border I’d soon be a familiar face in Carlisle but I’m a good way north of Aberdeen so that’s not a serious option.

This measure will do nothing. It’s not intended to. It’s the thin end of a wedge that has already involved calls for ending all booze sales at 8 pm and banning any kind of offers (for the booze already above the minimum price). Minimum pricing was just to get the wedge in. Now they start hammering.

We saw it all happen with ‘oh but we just want a non-smoking area, surely that’s not asking much’. We’re seeing it happen with soft drinks and ready-meals. The same thing, over and over again. Our mindless politicians fall for the same trick every single time.

It’s no surprise that the EU are using the same technique on Mindless May. She gives in to one demand to be immediately faced with another. She gives in to that too – oh, and there’s another. We are led by utter morons.

So now we have a new Home Secretary. Sajid Javid. I haven’t seen too much of him so will reserve judgement until he’s done something. Okay, my default response to any politician is ‘despise’ but it seems this one used to work in banking. He was very good at it too, earning £3 million a year apparently. Giving that up to be a politician is something to be respected.

He is also the son of a bus driver who arrived in the UK skint. No silver spoon there – he brought his family from rags to riches in a very real sense.

Labour hate him. They have called him an ‘Uncle Tom’ on Twitter and moaned that he has voted against a cap on banker bonuses. Personally I don’t give a shit what bankers earn. I’m not one so it has no effect on me at all. If their business makes enough money to give out bonuses, good for them. I hope, one day, my business can do that for me. It’s currently looking like a very long-term thing though…

There  was also a suggestion on Twitter that he might have been appointed ‘cos I is black’ to divert from the Windrush scandal. I don’t think even Mindless May would be that stupid. He’s not from one of the Windrush countries, he’s from Lancashire. The Home Office is in a mess and she really needs someone to sort it out. This is no time for identity politics.

Actually, with his successful banking career, I’d have made him Chancellor. It’s about time the post was held by someone who actually knows how to handle money.

Then there are the Twitterers calling him British-Pakistani. The Labour mob doing him down. He is British, from a poor family, a self-made millionaire who quit to go into politics. That gets a lot of respect from me no matter how I feel about politicians in general.

Shouldn’t Labour be delighted? Working class kid does well? Huh. I was the first in my family to go to university and get a degree, then another one, back in the days when they meant something. Council estate kid, son of a coalminer, invited to lecture in several places including Beijing, now running his (second) own business. Labour despise me. I escaped being one of their pets. They despise Mr. Javid for the same reasons – plus one more. He’s not white so in their minds, he should belong to them.

I think the End of May should see the end of May. Or sooner. She doesn’t want Brexit even though it’s inevitable and she’s going to fuck it up. Well, she’s already fucking it up.

And now she doesn’t have her mini-me in the Home Office continuing her work of total surveillance and internet control, she is weakened.

I don’t know much about Sajid Javid but I hope he’s not going to be another Jackboots May in his new job. Probably not since he has actually worked in the real world and done very well at it.

Time will tell.

Not too much time, I suspect.