Then They Came For the Dissenters!

When 'President' Biffo's turn to yet further brick-up the House of Lords presented, back in 2021, numbered amongst the glut of anti-democratic fools and zealots- gun-toting-Botham springs to mind- Biffo also appointed a pick-and-mix selection of formerly-card-holding-'Labourites.' For those half-asleep, those harbouring socially-uncomfortable opinion, for those already afforded significant MSM platform- we might do better to more thoroughly question these particular pay-masters- the media 'celebrated' flood raised far too few eyebrows, too few questions, very few concerns. For the rest, the act passed largely unobserved, was perhaps tutted upon, or cursed at, or, at the more observant end of the political spectrum, caused hearts to sink ever-further, temperatures to rise! But, as the status quo invariably dictates, it did not overly rock the boat!

For a nation regularly, and through diktat, fed a diet of historical falsehood- monarchy and glorious empire- the above is not overly surprising. But, in a nation being increasingly modified to serve run-away inequality, the body-heat and sweat of disaffection, often bubbling under or over into dissent, is today seldom more than a whisper away. The UK's MSM would have us believe differently but then the MSM is often now far more part of the problem than it is an insight into any form of solution.

From the perspective of an erstwhile youth, emerged during the vainglorious years of Thatcher, things today appear far-and-away beyond bleak! Perhaps it is an age thing but, as events currently stand, I cannot see a clear way forward. Quite naturally, I seek a means that is not to be overly played out through fictional solutions or, perhaps more worryingly, documentation as entertainment of the nation's, or (perhaps) the globe's, multifarious crises.

For, whilst there may be numerous threads of modified concern running through acceptable discourse, the deep-rooted neoliberal experiment persists. Much like its own (unspoken-about) pandemic, this particular virus breeds and spreads through clever modification. Given time to react this one learns to assimilate. Thus, frequently hidden in plain sight, we are now free to observe the bleaker consequences of 'the system,' packaged for consumption as media-documentary commentary or drama- Channel 4's 'Dispatches' springs to mind. It is (almost) as if the festering spread has reasoned that crises re-packaged as entertainment may bleed the inflammation.

Incidentally the afore-alluded to 'Labour' and 'former-Labour' peers are Ian Austin (Baron Austin of Dudley), John Woodcock (Baron Walney), Kate Hoey (Baroness Hoey), John Mann (Baron Mann) and Ian McNichol (Baron McNichol of West Kilbride); undoubtedly this clutch is not unique! Of note, four no longer wish to retain any pretence at espousing Labour values, even under the sham leadership of Sir Keith Starmer, one of whom was duly cited during the parliamentary expenses scandal, one of whom stepped aside (allegedly) in order to deflect sexual harassment claims, claims that did nothing to deflect President Biffo's drive to saturate the Lords. Imagine the damage that such sorry souls will already have done to undermine any true Labour aspirations!

Deserving as any or all of these peers may be of the nation's contempt, the Niemoller referencing heading of this musing seeks instead to bleakly contemplate the impending demise of the UK's ghost-democracy.

I wonder if the current ongoing Ghislaine Maxwell court case might best, in its darkest corners, hint at the sorry state in which we currently reside. I doubt many onlookers- and I here include the Maxwell clan- seriously consider that the woman could be innocent of the charges... and yet. Is there not the uneasy sense that there are far more powerful interests at play here?

I am thinking here of Epstein's $500,000 'settlement' with Virginia Giuffre. I am thinking specifically of the legal weight of the wording whereby a curiously nefarious 'others' might somehow be exempt from further examination and possible eventual prosecution. Seriously, there is just so much to wade through here- no doubt numerous book deals are currently being beavered away at- setting aside the alleged, highly suspect, suicide of Epstein, turning reluctantly away from that unexplored and unexplained doorway amorphously labelled ''mysteriously unobserved' Crimes of Jimmy Savile,' whereby we are 'asked' to believe that Savile was so ingeniously clever that absolutely nobody was able to put a stop to what Sir James Wilson Vincent Savile OBE, KCSG (knighthood lobbied for five times by Thatcher, five!) was up to! Seriously!

The self-censoring BBC might have us believe otherwise but surely we are not the only ones to be speculating as to quite how very high up the tree the mysterious and vague 'others' in that settlement may have been thought to reference! It is internationally clear that the accused Prince Andrew, Duke of York KG, GCVO, CD, ADC believes himself to have been so referenced- no longer is his legal team seeking to clear his name, more they are hoping to deflect with the sturdy weight of legal monies, monies that have been 'donated' by our Holy Monarch, monies that are essentially our's care of the uber-immense generational taxes handed down upon the nation!

Any thoughts upon the Ghislaine Maxwell verdict, Peter Benjamin Mandleson, Baron Mandleson, PC? No? Okay then, any thoughts upon Baron Mandleson's continued membership of the new-look Labour Party in the light of a certain entry in Epstein's address book, Sir Keir Rodney Starmer KCB QC? Sir Keith Rodney Starmer KCB QC, former Head of Public Prosecutions, just in case you'd missed it? No? "And now over to the BBC's Political Editor..." Imagine sound of wind whistling through an empty landscape.

Does the British Constitution even permit the imprisonment of a Royal? Within which country estate or palace would His Royal Highness be confined? Would His Royal Highness still be permitted to slaughter grouse on quite such a scale, perhaps aside those such as Sir Ian Terence Botham, Baron Botham, Kt, OBE? How wide would the Royal cinematic TV screen be? Who would man the kitchens?

How might the (self-censoring) BBC allude to any guilty ruling? How might they cocoon Her Majesty, magic away the costs to the taxpayer? Apparently we are to believe that the British Broadcasting Corporation is 'curious,' and has 'investigated,' how it might be that the first port of call for 'insight' into the Ghislaine Maxwell ruling should have been one Alan Dershowitz, "constitutional lawyer"? Note, 'constitutional lawyer,' not 'head of Maxwell's legal defence team,' neither 'former member of Jeffrey Epstein's defence team' and 'fellow accused, Alan Dershowitz.' Weighty airtime was also afforded to brother Ian Maxwell (BBC Radio 4), time with which to speculate as to quite what may have gone 'wrong' with the legal process? More money, please!

We should not pretend that the BBC was ever quite the impartial body that it self-censoringly presents to the mirror every morn, some duration prior to the 'appointment' of arch re-tweeter, 'Political Editor' and minute essayist, Laura Kuenssberg ('re-tweeter' note, not political 'researcher,' nor 'journalist,' not even tweet-'checker'). Headed now by Timothy Douglas Davie CBE (unelected as Conservative Councillor for Hammersmith 1993 and 1994), formerly staffed by such as Sir Robbie Paul Gibb (Editor of BBC's 'Sunday Politics,' 'Daily Politics,' 'Andrew Marr Show,' 'This Week, Radio 4's 'Westminster Hour' and BBC 2's 'News Night'), brother of Conservative MP Nick Gibb, now sitting proudly as an 'impartial' BBC Board Member for England, chaired by characters such as Richard Simon Sharp (JP Morgan, copious Tory donor). How better to ensure that the world renowned British Broadcasting Corporation retains its hard-earned international reputation for reliably impartial news reportage? Perhaps discerning viewers and listeners might do well to avoid BBC news programmes now pretty much altogether? Yet, amusingly still not reactionary enough for former- expected soon to return to the fold- employee, Andrew Ferguson Neil. And don't yet whisper prayers at the recent close pass of Comet Dacre!
Any thoughts Harry Cole of the Sun?

With such a line-up topics like the heady 'self-censoring required of all (often pseudo) 'journalists' in the UK's MSM' is most unlikely to occur. Why would we expect owt bar the truth from the nation's own broadcaster, the BBC? It matters not that this kind of assumption is now so roundly and routinely questioned; as Lenin reportedly said, "a lie told often enough becomes the truth," or was it Goebbels? The editors and owners of virtually all of the UK's MSM outlets would (openly) condemn either character but, deeply and most sincerely, they continue to embrace the fact! Who better or more effectively would know and employ the value of the oft-aired lie? And, who more humble or deserving of the role of Guardian of Truth than Rupert Murdoch? Ask Sir Anthony Charles Lynton Blair Kg, IWC, International War Criminal- destabiliser of the Middle East. And, just in case the BBC's not-so-subtle slant upon its news coverage may not be quite enough, we must forever encounter Duracell characters the likes of Gyles Daubeney Brandreth or Matthew Francis Parris, for their wordy spin upon anything from contemporary art to Dickensian philanthropy... Ta, very much!

So, when Martin Niemoller eventually came to his senses and penned his insightful words, 'First they came for...' he was referencing the slippage that had occurred within his 'beloved' Germany. It is most unlikely that he would (yet) have found much to object to in the current (dis)United Kingdom. The slippage in Germany, to which he was referring, undoubtedly began some duration prior to his personal objections- he was, after all an initial and hard-headed supporter of the Hitler regime. The abstract characters of his opening lines will already have succumbed! Imagine a twenty-first century spin and/or twist upon his words and we can perhaps picture the closed shop doorways filling up with tents and sleeping bags, the normalising of the nation's homeless peoples. Watch the icy waves crashing against the seashores and we can picture the rewriting of political climate, as the country prepares to decriminalise national manslaughter by 'redirecting' leaky refugee-laden dinghies back into the storm! Listen to the BBC's 'Today in Parliament' and maybe we can pretend to have forgotten the recent £20-a-week reduction amongst the nation's poorer families, pretend not to have seen the teaspooned tuna doggy-bags offered as school dinners during the weeks of lockdown, pretend to see no direct line from twenty quid out of the food kitty to fifty percent onto the winter heating bill! Perhaps we can pretend to believe Sir Keith Starmer- "former Head of Public Prosecution," just in case you missed it- when he hurls forth about apartheid-Israel bringing the 'deserts to bloom!' pretend that we did not know that the lands were already occupied by others, other who were doing just fine, others who's country has consequently been illegally occupied for decades! 'First they came for the truth-tellers...'

In light of the above it has to be one very special 'Hats off and great respect!' to those in the public eye, who still dare to stick with the actual truth! 'Hats off and a genuine hearty round of applause!' to the likes of Emma Watson and Sally Rooney, those who dare to speak out and to risk the wrath of today's truth-twisters (Tzipi Hotovely, Israeli Ambassador to the UK, Danny Danone, Chairman of the World Likud, absolutely anyone at the Jewish Chronicle, et al). Has nobody whispered the art of self-censoring to Sally or Emma?

Within our ghost-democracy there is a divide, an unspoken line. It is invisible and it is dynamic, fluidly so, and yet it manifests far beyond the physical. This line is subject to subversion, as and when required to be so; it may be conjured at convenience or vanquished as if it had never been there. Money and power may afford access, subject to certain restraints. The line's existence may be denied through ignorance, either wilful or otherwise, or else a desire to mislead or misrepresent. The line may dictate the fine art of self-censorship, where upon one may even be permitted to slip under or over this line, which must not anyway officially exist at all.

If one were to whisper of the UK's homeless, or the UK's working families, dependent upon resented Universal Credit, dependent upon those distrusted food banks, those insecurely employed in the UK's gig economy, then a line (of sorts) perhaps gains an element of credence. Yet, if one were to drift, perhaps through untethered contact, into the realms of a well-targeted (abysmally researched) tabloid headline, it might morph... there, no there! 'Another wave of Undeserving Refugees!' 'The Something-for-Nothing Generation!' Over to Harry Cole at the Sun for further comment! Magically the line separates a tenuous 'Us' from an ever-amorphous 'Them!'

Why, suddenly even Priti Patel seems to be making sense... Maybe those scrounging Middle Eastern refugees really do have absolutely nothing to do with the UK's careless distribution of military arms to Saudi Arabia and Israel... Sir Anthony Charles Lynton Blair KG, now there's a man we need to hear a great deal more from! Obviously not the bit where he ordered Geoff Hoon to 'burn the memo that stated the 2003 invasion of Iraq would be illegal, obviously not that bit! Obviously!

Listen to the latest of the fast track benefactors of the Conservative drive to bankrupt the NHS/line specific pockets and suddenly we (most of us) are well aware exactly which side we stand regarding any sort of line. Michelle Mone, Baroness Mone, OBE, instinctively we just know where she stands, or more likely sits- keeping democracy alive in the free world!

The whistle-blowers, tip-toeing carefully through a minefield of self-censorship required of such guardians of honesty, the journalists afforded a platform... and a comfortable living, praise be to them! One almost wonders quite what it is, what fragment of potentially-harmful and unearthed news, that may need yet further protection from the journalists' all-seeing eyes. Obviously not the Kuenssbergs, the Marrs, the Harry Coles of this world, the trusted and malleably united voice... it's the others we need to fear! 'Seek 'em out! Go on Johnny (Woodcock) boy!' Who better than the unblemished peer, Baron Walney, for such a role? Protecting democracy? What will he find?

One could be forgiven for thinking that the nation hardly needs Home Secretary Priti Patel's free hand upon the tiller. A democracy as jealously guarded as 'our's' must shine like a jewel in the heavens when viewed from afar. With an under-bite that might sever an undesirable child refugee's arm, seven-times (is it, now?) transgressor of the UK's (apparently highly flexible) Ministerial Code, Home Secretary Priti Sushil Patel is (apparently) exactly the sort of 'human being' a nation such as the UK requires, legislating truth for MSM consumption!

'Democracy,' 'improved' and repackaged for suitability in the UK! Ta dah!
Any thoughts, Harry Cole of the Sun?
Imagine the tired old opening chords of the former Empire's National Anthem. In the Upper House, picture Ian Austin, Baron Austin of Dudley, John Woodcock, Baron Walney, Kate Hoey, Baroness Hoey, John Mann, Baron Mann, Ian McNichol, Baron McNichol of West Kilbride, Peter Benjamin Mandleson, Baron Mandleson, PC, Michelle Mone, Baroness Mone, OBE, Sir Anthony Charles Lynton Blair KG, the Right Honourable Sir Ian Terrence Botham, Baron Botham, Kt OBE- Browning Citori respectfully open, barrels empty and held over the arm- and the ghost of Sir James Wilson Vincent Savile OBE, KCSG, all standing stiffly to attention.
Closing credits! The National Anthem absolutely does not fade, verse after verse, after interminable verse, everyone pretending they cannot hear the (off stage) fans causing a dozen flags to respectfully flutter. Replenish those lungs, please Baron Walney:
From France and Pretender
Great Britain defend her,
Foes let them fall:
From foreign slavery,
Priests and their knavery,
And Popish Reverie,
God save us all. (fingers crossed behind the back for the closing line)

Can Eat Overindulgently?

Cuts for Everyone in Obedience?
Calculating Excessively for Oneself?
Contract surely Exceeds Omnipotence?
Comfort in Excess of Opulence?
Claims Exceeding the Over-expensive?
Costing Easily Over-the-Earth?
Could Easily be Omitted?

CEO? Whoever really knows what the acronym might be screaming into the wind? Chief Executive Officer seems most unlikely.

We have learnt, again and again and again of late, that Britain is not faring so well amongst the 'more advanced' of the industrialised nations. Mmmm?

Value judgements.

So towering inequality isn't actually working, then? All those zero hour contracts and slum tenancies have failed to lick the nation into the required shape, have they? Re-voting in, time and time again, the political parties endorsed by the Main Stream Media (MSM) has not served up quite the menu we were 'promised?' Of note, said 'promise' was also made by that same MSM, amongst others. The nation's 'leaders' are far more akin to those First World War generals, than they are to serving the wider nation, are they? It wasn't the fault of the French, or the Germans, or the other European nations, really? We honestly don't have a special relationship with the United States of America? Questions, questions...

Well, this state of affairs hasn't really snuck up on us, has it? How on Earth can we, the UK, possibly hope to maintain these stratospheric levels of inequality, whilst pretending that 'the dregs' count for anything? Indeed, how do we even begin to pretend that someone on a zero-hour contract counts for anything at all? Dilemmas, dilemmas...

Assimilation.

Perhaps, more to the point, how can we in the UK convince those in the higher-paid non-jobs that they (the non-jobbers) actually contribute anything of value? If we cannot, then it might well be the case that we are failing excessively at both ends of the scale!

I have learned, and have almost certainly mentioned before, that the UK (as of July 2018) ranks seventh amongst the G7 nations, and seventeenth amongst the G20 nations. I have learned also that it has been calculated, based upon various surveys, that approximately a third of the population are planning or hoping to leave or change jobs in the next year.

That last piece of information we could easily dispute, based upon, as are all such things, surveys and questionnaires given to a representative cross section of our society. In the MSM, unless it does not suit their current agenda, such information might easily be disputed- they might question how it might ever be possible for a whole third of the population to reshuffle jobs at almost the same time. They will not, of course, elaborate, that many people are trapped, through financial commitments to family or buying a home, and therefore realistically are unable to seriously consider quitting their job.

Pragmatism

Think though! Should the cleaners at your place of work not do their rounds for a day would you notice? What about a week? Longer?

What about the CEO, or what might substitute for a CEO (Christ, Enough Other-People's-Opinions!)- a CEOPO?- what if they were absent for a day, a week, a month, or for the rest of their given days?

We know we'd miss the cleaners. Imagine having to clean up after ourselves, after a full day at work. At least we wouldn't moan quite so much about the missed bits. But the CEO? Would we? Would we really?

Misinformation.

I'd go so far as to suggest that the only way that most of those in the real jobs would miss the CEO- always assuming that someone doesn't step into his or her shoes and perpetuate the skewing of the office hierarchy- would be if his or her salary suddenly stopped and the amount was more correctly reinvested into the workforce.

Also of note and relevance, more than 25% of graduates quit their jobs within one year of starting- it's actually closing in on 33%. And almost a third of teachers quit the sector within five years.

I'm guessing that someone- many someones- is noticing the fact that a third of the workforce are disillusioned, also that quite so many young teachers are not hanging around for as long as the pupils they teach might be.

And, some of the most excessively paid CEOs are in charge of the worst-performing companies... who'd have thought it?

Acronyms, don't you just hate them?

The Recessive George

Written on 24th May.

So- eat your words, you filthy sceptics- George (Osborne) has done exactly as he promised, and saved 'our glorious' country. Britain is once more truly mended, spiritually at one with herself. He's pulled us back from the very brink, has 'our benevolent' George. The 'feel good' factor, as reported by 'our free' press, is again being roundly felt by the, "people on the street," as reflected, once more, in their respective pay packets. "Back on the road to prosperity!" All praise St. George and the holy forces of all that is 'honourable!'

The figures, as 'gathered' and then further manipulated by 'our democratic servants,' before being selectively relayed to the wider populace via 'our representative' media, would appear (albeit barely) to concur. Shall we delve?

Special thanks to stephen bowler

Those working in the private sector (the side of the angels *), and in receipt of bonuses (surely archangels) have recently witnessed their take-home pay creeping above the latest inflation figures. This news, as reported by the BBC and the (ostensibly tabloid) papers, much in the ilk of The Daily Mail, hopes perhaps to contrive to loosen our purse strings, and to soon see the British economy once again booming... a mere prelude to ka-booming! Throw in the reported 'drop' in 'recorded' unemployment, especially that of youth unemployment, and the faintest of smiles might perhaps deign to slither on to the side of one's doubting face. Chuck in the 9% rise in the housing market (average cost of a home) and surely the faintest of chuckles might even deign to resurface.

So, let's reflect upon this news, shall we? Reflect perhaps, from the perspective of the targeted 'demons,' that of those beavering away in the NHS (for example). One could ask the valid question, "Whether these individuals might be in agreement, that the worst of the recession- was there ever another state of affairs- is finally behind us?" Those labouring under the umbrella of 'care' of JC (Jeremy Hunt), the same media outlets are reporting, have been duly informed that the 'fragile' economy dare not risk affording them anything other than an effective further pay cut (1%). So, at the very best, then, some of the British electorate might be in 'recovery.' And several of these sections of 'society' have been  effectively granted immunity from the recession anyway. So what's actually changed? 

And to karen H. nickname.{ pooh}

It really is something of a mystery, do you not think, how it is that 'our democratic servants' might so frequently contrive to blame those of the public sector for quite all of the country's financial woes, and an altogether far larger mystery to understand why it is that the general media are so rabidly willing to play along. We could almost go a hunting for some sort of conspiracy, couldn't we? Perhaps the sort of conspiracy whereby we might find a government effectively prolonging the recession, or using the same as some sort of screen, behind which to terminally undermine the long hated enemy; that would be anything public sector, anything at all that is public sector, and additionally to hyper-extend that 'most to least well-off' ratio. The globe's sixth most wealthy nation and the world's fourth most unequal society do not sit comfortably together.

The public purse strings must be kept tight, we are forever being reminded. Except perhaps for during 'our MPs' pigs-at-a-trough means of determining their own pay- 11%, wasn't it?- and their continuing access to those bizarrely questionable huge expenses. Bye, incidentally, all too briefly, to Maria Miller, the current sacrificial lamb... or is it goat? But she'll be back, snout at the ready!

One might go so far as to speculate that those of the electorate hoping to squeak on to the housing market- also curiously tweaked, via Help to 'Buy'- might be less than delighted to watch those long-sought homes once again spiralling away from them, and into the hands of the Tory-revered investment purchaser. Yet more for the non-specified "man (person) on the street" to celebrate? 

Thanks also, to Anna Armstrong

And notice, please do, also those unemployment figures. Youth unemployment (Office for National Statistics) has 'decreased,' as has the number (also ONS) of people claiming Job Seekers' Allowance. Yes, as 'your' government tinkers around the edges, to ensure a 'more competetive' market, via the county's pool of those available for gainful employment, handy for British companies hiring at rates on or around the minimum wage, life is again taking on a far more rosy hue. A tad more tinkering and, raise your glasses, official unemployment figures have finally started to 'tumble.' 

Call me, "an old fart," but I think I'd be inclined to include, on the official unemployment register, all of those individuals not being paid a proper living wage. "Debatable," those in receipt of vast inherited fortunes might contest. But at least we'd know where we really stood, instead of having to forever dig for a more accurate reflection of the nation's employment status. All of those in voluntary roles, those labouring in internships, perhaps those who have failed to register, and those 'employed' on zero hours contracts, any guesses as to what the current homeless totals really are?; where precisely do all of these people fit into the national picture? 

It is undoubtedly the case that huge numbers of properties are once again being snapped up by investment buyers. Unquestionably, those at the top of the wealth ladder have climbed yet further out of sight of the least 'rewarded.' Without doubt the public sector is fast shrinking at the behest of the private; much of this sector has already been subcontracted out to the likes of those demonic PFIs and is no longer really 'public' anyway. Huge swathes of the public sector are dangerously undergoing constant pernicious change at the behest of grasping private interests, to the point now where disingenuous misrepresentation might venture to claim that the country needs to effectively privatise 'our NHS' (£10 monthly NHS access charge, as suggested by Lord Warner). Universal health care and education are under siege, like never before in most of our lifetimes; cite almost any initiative by The Gove or the satanic JC.

Many thanks to Adam Baker



So, on reflection, "UK emerges from double-dip recession," really doesn't seem to be referencing the real world. Even so Howard Archer (IHS Global Insight) certainly doesn't want the pillaging to stop just yet-a-while. "Fiscal austerity, tight credit conditions, muted global economic activity and still serious problems in the Eurozone are all likely to hamper growth," he hopes to remind the targeted working classes. 

So, are we all feeling good about the economic recovery?

* Much in the vein of any 'divide and rule' scenario, those working in the private sector, away from government-revered upper echelons, may only ever be singled out for praise where the public sector is to be derided. 

The Infernal Recovery

Written on 21st May 2014.

"On the wicked he will rain fiery coals and sulfur; a scorching wind will be their lot."

"At one point midway on our path in life, I came around and found myself now searching through a dark wood, the right way blurred and lost. How hard it is to say what that wood was, a wilderness, savage, brute, harsh and wild. Only to think of it renews my fear!"

It's 16:00. I'm sitting in Roy's (of Wroxham) Cafe, wondering when the stooped older-gentleman at the counter might finally complete his tortuous order, so that I can avail myself of a second latte. For the last hour I've alternated between dipping into, 'Hard Times,'- much in keeping with one's recent moods- or else scribbling demented notes into the iPad. The regular announcements regarding, "spectac-lear bargains," in the shoe department, have ceased to amuse me. Eye on the clock, there's a reasonable chance the father-in-law will be out of the house from around 16:30- I'll give it 'till 17:00, just to be certain!

On the surface the signs are probably along the lines of, "Do not approach!" Not entirely an accurate reflection of my state of mind, but the halo of empty seats surrounding my person suits my purposes, so let's not yet do anything to undermine these perceptions.

Many thanks to Dave McLear

In truth I'm almost singing inside- though not yet smiling, but the ice is slowly beginning to thaw- because a number of things seem set to change, hopefully entirely for the better. Three months and four days in to our unplanned-for-homelessness and finally a tiny chink of light has levered itself in between the storm clouds. The clouds, incidentally, are a cliched allegory for the deadening gloom that has accumulated about our persons, over the aforementioned three-and-a-bit months. To boot, our sleepy solicitor has today e-mailed that there are completion documents to be signed.

When we found ourselves suddenly and unexpectedly in need of a floor upon which to spend a 'couple of weeks' neither of us could have anticipated the precise hue or the intensity of the greyness that was about to ensue. As an occasional artist I remain at a loss as to what such a hue might be termed, certainly drawing more from the depths of a bleeding soul than that of the master's pallet. 

So... 't was upon the 3rd February, in the year of our Lord 2014, some three-and-a-bit months past, that we were readying ourselves for a move to a Harford House, in the fine city of Norwich. Non-specific administrative matters had dictated that we would need to rent what-was-to-become our apartment, for a short while, prior to the purchase of the same. 

"A nominal fee," the developer had said. "After all you'll be buying the place," the man had gone on to reason. He'd also smiled, "Call me Sid." With hindsight and some fuller reflection, the most significant thing said had almost been obscured beneath oh-so-much cheery-sales-pitch small talk; "I'm a business man," he'd also casually enlightened.

The home move was booked, the sale of our previous home legally committed to, nowhere else to go! Or so this man had obviously thought. The precise (and curiously elusive) terms of the rental agreement finally winged their way through the aether. Oops! My God, we'd been so naive. So very, very stupid! Wiggle room, at this juncture, had seemed a highly unlikely eventuality.

Many thanks also, to Jason Merrick

Dante's Fourth Circle of Hell (Greed).

The precise terms of the agreement- never actually spoken- pinged into the inbox. To clarify then, the "nominal fee" was as follows:

* £200 for the first week (services included)- hardly 'nominal' we mused.

* £400 for the second week. Continuing to double with each successive week.

* In addition to this we were expected to pay the cost of 'setting up' this dubious contract, £450 plus VAT, so another £540.

* And then there was the tiny matter of a non-refundable deposit of £2,000, just to ensure our goodwill and commitment to buy.

* So a 'highly nominal' £3,540 for the first four weeks. 

* And an additional £2,000, to ensure that Sid was not be found out of pocket, should we ever get to the point where our fast-depleting funds could no longer afford the planned move. 

* A special thanks must go out to Bruce Faulkner of Faulkner and Rogers Solicitors, for drawing up this 'nominal' agreement.

Dear ********

I have taken my clients further instructions re your client taking occupation and am instructed that they are prepared to allow your client to do so on the following basis:-

1. Your clients pay my costs of preparing the agreement - Which should be no more than £450 plus VAT.

2. Your clients pay a £2000 deposit repayable on completion but otherwise non-refundable.

3. Your clients pay a licence fee of £200 in the first week, doubling each week until completion or vacation if your clients do not proceed payable weekly in advance (to ensure completion as quickly as possible).

4. Water charges included in licence fee.

5. Electricity and gas included until the meter to 6 Harford House is installed and connected.

I should be able to prepare the document for completion tomorrow and look forward to hearing from you once you are able to take instructions.

With best wishes

Bruce ********

Director

Unanticipated, we wiggled. The in-laws had a camper van. I dutifully phoned Sid to convey our reluctance to accept his 'nominal' offer. "A means to ensure that the solicitors did not drag their feet," Sid was anxious to 'clarify.' "To ensure that 'both' parties are fully protected," he enlightened. I duly ran through the maths for him. The man even had the presence of mind to pretend surprise at the voluminous four week total. 

The business man on the back foot- not a pleasant spectacle- was witnessed to instantly retract, clearly desperate not to lose sight of our money. A hastily rehashed deal of £200 a week, "with all services thrown in"- Hell, the man hadn't even yet organised the separate metering of the apartment- was politely declined. And I honestly was polite! The phone call was thus terminated. Time for the business man to sweat, I'd considered. Even supposedly desperate not to lose his buyers, the evident greed had shone through; 'nominal,' even at this late juncture, continued to mean entirely different things to different parties.

The following day, or possibly the one after that, I sat down and attempted to convey a disappointment that had, in reality, already morphed into blessed relief. My e-mail, though extensive, omitted to state the obvious, that we would be pulling out of the deal. We had reasoned that such a leopard would be unlikely to be changing its spots.

Business-like to the death, the wife of Sid- one 'delightful' trouser-wearing Linda- took time out of her busy day to convey the couple's disappointment, feigned dismay, that such a 'reasonable' deal should have caused us "undue concern." The 'benign' Linda e-mailed that this was not a "hard-nosed business man's deal." 

Upon reading this response correspondence was terminated; it seemed the best of all the available options. Abuse at least had been circumnavigated.

Hello ******,

Unfortunately Sid is tied-up most of the today but he has asked me to reply to your email, as you can imagine we are both very disappointed to read your comments.

We are not developers, or seasoned builders, we are just a family trying to complete a project that we believe will provide 6 desirable apartments, for 6 happy purchasers.

The rental licence was drawn-up primarily to ensure the solicitors did not drag their feet regarding the completion of the sale, not to cause you or ***** any undue stress. We accept the licence terms may not have been ideal but under the circumstances, and at such short notice, we felt,  at the time it was an acceptable solution to a short term problem, and if I may say so, not a solution any hard nosed developer would have offered you.

With regards to the possibility that we might be trying to dissuade you from buying No 6... Nothing is farther from the truth, we have done all that you have asked, fitted fans in the bathrooms, extra sockets in the bedroom, lights in the lounge, installing the washing machine and tumble dryer of your choice, and Sky TV was installed today. What gain would there be for us?

We have not accepted any other offers on flat 6, we have not put the property back on the market, as far as we are concerned you have always been the only buyers. If you are prepared to reconsider,  we can discuss alternative licence terms, or forget the licence all together.

We all make mistakes and it seems such a shame that you will be missing out on the apartment you want and we will have to start the search for a new buyer again. Probably not something either of us really want.

If we can be of any further assistance please let us know.

Kind regards

Linda *******

One week later we learned that Sid had thus far omitted to obtain Building Regulations Approval, nor had he sought to obtain a Building Regulations Approval Certificate. What, no desire to hasten the exchange date? One was led to wonder when the gentlemen of Messrs Faulkner and Rogers, or perhaps Sid himself, might ever have brought this omission to anyone's attention. Currently (21st May) said property remains unsold, despite the misdirected 'Premium Property' sticker, as tacked on by Rightmove. Maybe an absence of relevant documentation continues to play its part, hopefully a far more astute home-buyers' approach is being observed by other home-seekers.

Agents AbbotFox, also reluctant to let the business slip through their talons, were quick to assure us that Sid was,"a lovely man." My God, he smiled often, and AbbotFox had dealt with him on several previous occasions. We had just obviously, "misunderstood," this, "charming character," they were quick to insist. "No, we don't wish to see the e-mailed contract," the team clarified. Thus the evidence of fossils was conveniently re-buried. "Any chance that the deal could be reignited?" AbbotFox pleaded. We thought perhaps not. Meanwhile, in the background, other gushing misrepresentations and falsehoods continued to blossom forth with apparent gay abandon. 

Lest the reader should think AbbottFox unworthy- which, of course they are- I can assure him/her that similar dishonesty/evasiveness was heard to abound in the vast majority of other Estate Agents' offices visited. The 'economic recovery' unfortunately tends to fuel such, to propagate especially the morally-bankrupt types in this field, cite the current practises of vast numbers of current leasing agencies. We could really do with a modern day Charles Dickens, who might perfectly capture the Victorian political climate in which we currently find ourselves.

Dante's Eighth Circle of Hell (Fraud).

Within a couple of weeks we had 'secured' a far more suitable property. Alas, en route, the almost criminally-inclined actions of the replacement Estate Agent (Abbotts) had caused us to effectively rebid for the same property three times. Special thanks, this time, must go out to one Richard, humorously described as a, 'Sales Negotiator.' Perhaps something approximating to the opposite of a 'Hostage Negotiator.' Where was Jesus, to upset those business stalls in the temple, born-again Christians might have been thinking. Richard 'assurred' us that indeed this had absolutely not been the case, with slippery words like, "I don't know what you heard, but..." We'd heard what you actually said, Richard, because we were listening. Obviously Sales Negotiator means something far less savoury than it really should, in these 'heady' times of 'resplendent' 'economic recovery.'

One other storm-battered home-seeking couple that we encountered, upon the very day of their hoped for exchange, discovered that their exchange papers had been amended with a revised contract for an additional ten grand. History does not recall whether the aforementioned Sales Negotiator was involved in this aborted transaction. The dawning 'economic recovery' rolled on, sweeping aside the minor and far less important deities of 'Honesty' and 'Integrity.'

Dante's Tenth Circle of Hell (Bureaucracy).

We dared to think that we were almost there; the misguided hopes of the single-home buyers had again been sorely misplaced. Ranged still before us were the fortified hurdles of solicitors and the leasehold contract company, The Residential Management Group. Between the two sets of solicitors and RGM the quest for an 'agreed' exchange date conspired to tack a further two and a half months onto the unwieldy process of acquiring our new home. Even in the death throes of these proceedings Capron and Helliwell were contriving to keep us entirely in the dark, as yet another snail post communication was leisurely batted back and forth between the (mis)appointed sets of solicitors. By this time one 'rogue' concerned individual at RGM had finally broken ranks and expressed his, "absolute dismay," at the woeful ineptness of his own employer. Alas, the mighty dinosaur had accidentally trampled upon another client, in its urgency to feast further at the troughs of 'economic recovery,' 

And, finally, thanks to Nomadic Lass

* Added on Wednesday 21st May.

It will take a while for us to begin to fully appreciate the benefits of again having our own place. I still awake, expecting to hear the father-in-law a huffing along an adjacent corridor. Or expecting to hear his pompous tones echoing, unchallenged, throughout the house.

In search of some form of sanctuary, I'd walked getting on for 400 miles, worn out and parted company with one pair of walking boots, and cycled closing in on a thousand. Best not to ponder too hard on the amount of money spent on coffee...

With hindsight, I'd like to think that I could dutifully advise others to avoid the estate agents of Abbotts or AbbotFox, that I might suggest a suitably more focused or reliable firm of Solicitors than that of Capron and Helliwell or Abbots Countrywide. If only 't were the case. In mock defence of RGM, they did, in time for the bill, contrive to insert their own inflated charges of £250, for doing bugger all (and not very well). The weight of limpets had the docked ship listing severely towards port (conceivably red wine).

Cash buyers purchase vacant property- no chain- in just three-and-a-half months! What could we possibly praise here?

Sadly, Britain in the 'economic recovery' appears more to want to celebrate these sharp practises or this questionable accountability, rather than to rectify such malpractice and ineptness. The consequent and numerous casualties will undoubtedly not be featuring in the self-congratulatory rhetoric of Messrs Osborne or Cameron. I have seen very little to suggest that the competitors might be any less self-interestedly driven. More deregulation needed, Mr Cameron? What do we think?

I can however strongly advise the avoidance of a particular developer, by the name of Sid; a "business man" he of Sid and Linda repute. 

"Don't hope you'll ever see the skies again!"

A Bloody Nose

And here we are, yet again. Destiny?

It's time- best not leave it too long- to start gearing up for another Red Nose Day. Schools, as has become another British tradition, will be joyfully ditching the National Curriculum- leastways, in a number of educational establishments, it'll be severely subjugated. All manner of really-quite-comfortably-off celebrities will be interrupting that primeval drive towards another 'home,' another million, another (bigger, faster, more-modern, swisher) yacht, car, pair of dark glasses, in order to attempt to remind the nation that, "There are individuals far worse off than yourselves."

It's been twenty-five years, you might be surprised to learn, since the Red Nose Appeal kicked off and started to roll back those pernicious evils of poverty. And absolutely millions of pounds have been raised by, for example, Tony Blair featuring in a TV sketch with Catherine Tate, Gary Barlow 'climbing' Mount Kilimanjaro, and Bono, Bob Geldof and Ricky Gervais faking, ostensibly for comic effect, an African poverty encounter. All manner of British school kids, including many of those who often arrive at school without having had a proper breakfast, will be pestering their mothers to bake red cakes and then paying over the odds to eat these self-same items.


Thank you to rsambrook

I fully expect that this year, as has also almost become another British tradition, the country will be striving to again surpass its best to date, hoping to exceed even the towering one-hundred-and-eight-million pounds raised in 2011. Since 1993 the doughty British-fund-raiser has repeatedly been more than equal to the task of bettering all past efforts. At the Red Nose launch, in 1988, a whopping fifteen-million was raised, and by 2011 the annual total achieved had astonishingly increased by more than sevenfold. Mind-blowing! Just think about the size of the dent, in the flanks of world poverty, that this kind of sum should create.


And also to Marcus Vegas

Who amongst us could possibly predict, with any degree of certainty, that 2013 will (or won't) be equal to such an immense challenge as to continue this magnificent trend, to surpass that one-hundred-and-eight million? Given that the likes of Osborne, Cameron, JC and Clegg are busying themselves with a poorly-disguised orchestrated-extension to the current recession- the very, very best circumstances under which to swiftly transfer immense sums of money from the threadbare pockets of the poorest and into the well-nourished hands of the most wealthy- we might easily assume that 2013's Red Nose Day will perhaps fall short and buck such recent trends. But the proud British fund-raiser has a well-deserved reputation for defying the odds. Either way, mid-March will be revealing the spoils. Fingers crossed!

It is an undeniable fact that the presented face of the Red Nose Appeal is as an aspirational thrust towards that of a better world. Yet a limited analysis of global trends, in an ostensibly rabidly-monetarist world, I would contest, will reveal that the 'needs'- those hoping to be met by any funds raised- will be ever set to far outstrip any level of successful fund raising. The Yin and the Yang of the global marketplace, if you please. The imperfectly 'interdependent' opposing faces upon the global coin.


Also to Giuseppe Nicoloro

Involving a great deal less (mis)interpretation and guesswork, allow me to adopt a somewhat Nostradamian pose and to here predict that, should the Red Nose Appeal continue to raise funds, with such increased vigour, for another twenty-five years, that global poverty will forever be there, festering to thwart so much of its efforts.

Having personally been involved, annually and in a variety of guises, with Red Nose activities, my aim is not entirely to knock the event. Certainly it is my experience that the vast majority of those involved work without any expectation of reward and with the most honourable of intents, often well beyond what is reasonable to have expected or hoped of them. Mine is thus, more, a 'polite' questioning of the climate, within which the Red Nose Appeal 'hopes' or 'expects' to succeed.

What I fear we have created here is a paradox, a paradox that I will now attempt to unravel. Although, if you can, perhaps, recall the general thrust of the humour in the earlier-referenced Gervais et al sketch, you may already be more or less up to speed. It is curious, is it not- and more than a touch disconcerting- just how seamlessly the beneficiaries of such huge global inequality appear to have managed to incorporate any reference to this self-same issue into the Red Nose comic sketch? Watch the sketch and you'll see what I mean...


Thank you ell brown

Although politicians and 'celebrities' alike appear loathe to point out such an oversight, there is a massive flaw within the very concept of such a fund-raising event as the Red Nose Appeal. It is almost as if the 'aspirational' and aesthetically 'perfect' edifice that has been constructed has completely omitted to acknowledge the shifting sands that lie in the stead of the required foundations. Those most over-eager to be equated with the appeal (Tony, Bono, Gary Barlow, such like, with their dubious tax arrangements) appear universally to have elected not to question the basic premise of an unequal global market economy. Yet it would be this very same global economy of unequal division of wealth that has been ostensibly responsible for the two major and interdependent contributing factors to current global poverty.

Firstly, and most regularly highlighted, there is the growing consequence of escalating world poverty, whereby many are underpaid, starving, inadequately fed or housed, unable to acquire even the basic requirements for a minimal standard of living. Secondly, and yet painfully under-analysed, there are the entirely interconnected recipients of uber-volumes of global wealth and property (that would be yachts and cars and landmasses and top restaurant access and monetary wealth and superfluous possession and, and, and etc). Despite (perhaps as a consequence of) recent trends we have seen these wealthy-individual-'requirements' spiralling ever further heavenwards. And this in an entirely finite world, don't forget!

Upon the global monetary elastic band- my chosen analogy- with the over-zealous acquisitors ranged at one extreme and the might-not-live-another-day starving ranged at the other, the decision makers (by necessity far closer to the end of privilege) continue to argue that global competition benefits the whole. The rest of us will find ourselves dotted at various points between, encouraged to endorse the actions of the most acquisitive through our own enforced means of achieving the best standards of living within our grasp. Living the capitalist dream! Or, perhaps, suffering the consequences of the capitalist nightmare? Who can honestly say?


Exactly, w3y

The aim of the grasping few will be to stretch the band, to increase the distance between themselves and the rest. The aim of the many should be to ease these extremes far closer together, to reduce the distance between ourselves and those who circumstance has permitted to wallow in accumulated wealth. The ever-fluctuating line that separates those who may currently eat well from those who may not is merely a consequence of the global market. But, in this decidedly finite world, the greater the divide the thinner the remaining wealth will be stretched. Consequence, increased global poverty, crocodile tears and far too much TV exposure for the acquisitive.

"So shoot me, I'm a rock star!" Too concise, Bono; too concise and selective by far! You are also a major factor in the cause of global poverty and starvation, and child exploitation (cheaper produce equates to greater profits for share holders). Cry those crocodile tears, Mr Bono, when you should next jet off to Africa, but, if you think you're more solution than cause then you're also horrendously deluded.

I'm not entirely certain that I'm comfortable with even the 'horrendously deluded' excuse. Me? I think you're entirely the hypocrite that you've been painted, Mr Bono.

So, where next for Red Nose Day? More of the same, I should imagine.