Blimey, what a week, eh? It’s dark when you go to work and it’s dark when you come home. You’re going to bow to the inevitable social pressures and spend money you haven’t got on Christmas. The news is full of how the terrorist hordes are poised to kill every one of us in the most terrible ways imaginable. Why not have a nice calming cigarette to soothe your nerves? Or on the other hand, don’t. Just don’t, alright?

Before he died, the much lamented comedian and smoker Bill Hicks used to berate the non-smoking members of his audiences. ‘You
know what doctors say,’ he would tell them, ‘”Shit, if only you smoked we’d have the technology to help you”. I got all sort of neat gadgets waiting for me, man. Oxygen tent. Iron lung.’

But Bill, as much as it pains us to say it, was wrong. In Britain at least, lung cancer is a one-way ticket. On the express. According to Cancer Research UK, only 25% of lung cancer sufferers are still alive one year after diagnosis. It’s 7% after five years.

Christ, when we read that we were so scared we had to have a cigarette to calm us down.

This cheery little statistic comes via Dr Crippen, the NHS Blog Doctor, who is a vital caution against having anything seriously wrong with you if you want the NHS to fix it. (Read his full diagnosis of NHS lung cancer treatment).

As the good doctor says, lung cancer sufferers in the US and Europe are twice as likely to still be alive after five years. That’s because treatment is better funded and regarded by the governments in those places. In the UK lung cancer is *bad* cancer.

If you do insist on getting cancer, breast is best apparently. It’s sexy cancer. Treatment is better funded by the Government and receives more attention from specialists. Doctors are, as Dr Crippen puts is, ‘nihilistic’ about treating lung cancer - the patient is stuffed so why bother with expensive treatments to prolong his or her life?

Home Secretary John Reid never misses an opportunity to remind us that he’s the only thing that stands between us and the aforementioned terrorist hordes. How many people has al Qaeda killed in the UK this year so far? Zero.

Back in 2004, he said that for some people, notably the Great Unwashed on their sink estates, ‘the only enjoyment sometimes is a cigarette’. He was against a smoking ban. He was also Health Secretary at the time. Really. Now, how many people does smoking kill in the UK *every year*? Around 114,000 (that includes passive smokers for any of you non-smokers enjoying a quiet moment of non-coughing satisfaction).

John Reid: far more dangerous than Osama Bin Laden. QED.

Now, pass that crack pipe, would you?

(First published in this week’s The Friday Thing.)

Update: Jesus Christ. I smoked my last ever cigarette yesterday. (via, again, Dr C.)

Simon Hoggart on yesterday’s questions on House of Commons business:

David Heath, the Liberal Democrat shadow leader, wanted a debate on the fittings of the house because, he said, there was no space left on the shelves for all the government’s legislation. “The laws passed by this government since 1997 exceed the width of all those laws passed between 1235 and 1947!”

This was a stunning statistic, if true. And Mr Straw didn’t deny it. He feebly replied that nobody would seriously argue we should return to the conditions of 1235, or even 1947. As if that was the question.

Read Straw’s reply in all it’s prattish, wilfully ignorant glory here.’It is also time for the Liberal Democrats to spell out which pieces of legislation they do not like. Did they object to the National Health Service Act 1946…?’ he said at one point. You suspect he’s really rather proud that the shelves are groaning with yards of badly drafted and excuted New Labour legislation that constantly needs updating (witness, for example, the third attempt at the Mental Health Bill.)

And it only took ten years to outstrip what it took those other slackers 700. It’s like praising Robbie Williams as the acme of pop culture because he produces albums just about as often as he does turds while sniggering at Nick Drake because he died in obscurity leaving a small but perfectly-formed legacy.

Straw’s one of those people who’s against anything, however sensible, if it’s suggested by an opponent. He’d argue in favour of child slavery if a Lib Dem argued against it. And he’d argue in a way that made his opponent look like they’d been dropped on their head as a child.

He’s like Bart Simpson in the episode where Bart runs for the position of class president against teacher’s pet Martin:

Martin: (campaign speech) In a sample taken in this very classroom, a state inspector found 1.74 parts per million of asbestos!

Bart: That’s not enough! We demand MORE asbestos! (leads the class in a chant of `MORE ASBESTOS’)

To think we allowed him to represent the UK on the world stage for five years. It’s a wonder we weren’t invaded.

Looking at this lot, it’s time for someone to get down to B&Q.

The ‘when did you stop beating your wife?‘ smear just got a makeover. Here’s CNN’s Glenn Beck interviewing Keith Ellison, the first Muslim to be elected to congress.

BECK: History was made last Tuesday when Democrat Keith Ellison got elected to Congress, representing the great state of Minnesota. Well, not really unusual that Minnesota would elect a Democrat. What is noteworthy is that Keith is the first Muslim in history to be elected to the House of Representatives. He joins us now.

Congratulations, sir.

ELLISON: How you doing, Glenn? Glad to be here.

BECK: Thank you. I will tell you, may I — may we have five minutes here where we’re just politically incorrect and I play the cards face up on the table?

ELLISON: Go there.

BECK: OK. No offense, and I know Muslims. I like Muslims. I’ve been to mosques. I really don’t believe that Islam is a religion of evil. I — you know, I think it’s being hijacked, quite frankly.

With that being said, you are a Democrat. You are saying, “Let’s cut and run.” And I have to tell you, I have been nervous about this interview with you, because what I feel like saying is, “Sir, prove to me that you are not working with our enemies.”

And I know you’re not. I’m not accusing you of being an enemy, but that’s the way I feel, and I think a lot of Americans will feel that way.

Why not just get Ellison to swear on the bible?

Watch the video for the full flesh-creeping effect.

(Cheers to Tim for the link.)

Update: More enemies right here. (via The Nether-World)

Like Philip, I received an email from Hazel Blears yesterday selling the Queen’s Speech. Apparently the fact that the Labour Party have my email address makes me a ‘Labour Supporter’. If only recourse to the libel laws was available on legal aid.

Anyway, the email features a glaring typographical error. In the passage where Hazel says…

Today we announced the priorities for government and have shown we are taking the right long-term decisions for the future of our country.

…what it should have said, of course, was…

Today we announced the priorities for government and have shown we are taking the Right’s long-term decisions for the future of our country.

She probably dictated the letter and her PA made the understandable mistake of transcribing it incorrectly. Yes, that would explain it.

A cynic would argue that Downing Street’s new e-petition initiative fulfils two functions. Firstly, it corals the moaners, the complainers, the whingers, the dissidents, sceptics, cynics, and single issue yahoos all in one place. Got a gripe? Start a petition, fire and forget. Job done and don’t worry about writing to your newspapers or MP or starting a blog. Tony has listened.

Secondly, it builds, over time, a nice big database of said moaners, the complainers, the whingers, the dissidents, sceptics, cynics, and single issue yahoos. You have to give your details to sign up. Give false details? Well, that’s their excuse to dismiss your petition as the work of deceptive cranks.

A million people give or take marched against the war and a nice brisk walk was just about all the benefit they saw for their efforts. Let’s see how this baby is received.

For an encore we can all have a go at whistling in the dark. Any suggestions for tunes? ‘Song for the Deaf‘ by Queens of the Stone Age, perhaps?

Update: Essential.

The Prime Minister is having another of his little webchats answering question submitted by the Great Unwashed and posed on our behalf by journalists Anne McElvoy and Will Hutton.

Questions should be addressed to questions@pmo.gov.uk and the event will be broadcast live on the Number 10 website at 2pm on Thursday.

The last time he had one, I ran a little competition offering a prize for any one managing to have their question asked (if not necessarily answered). In the event, it was me who had his question asked (if not necessarily answered).

So, let’s do the same again. If anybody manages to have a question directed to the Prime Minister on Thursday, I will send them a small prize.

Update: Watch the webcast here. No winners, I think.

On a first viewing, Blair’s apologia for ID cards in particular struck me as a load of old cobblers and worthy of further scrutiny. Maybe later.

Right here.

You know, nobody really complained when Status Quo churned out pretty much the same stuff year after year. Oasis pretty much got away with it as well. Sean Connery gained a massively successful movie career by being Sean Connery. All the time, every time. Similarly, in his movies, Michael Caine is Michael Caine. Like Weetabix or Lego or heroin, if you’ve got a winning product, why mess with it?

And so to Metropolitan Police Commissioner Sir Ian Blair and the speech he gave in Berlin a few days ago.

It’s the usual stuff really, pitching for extended powers, putting the frighteners on again, etc. etc. And one phrase in the speech caught my eye:

The sky is dark.

Where have we heard that before? Oh, yes. From Sir Ian. It’s his favourite piece of scare-the-shit-out-of-you imagery. He used it not once but twice last year, in his Dimbleby Lecture and in a more populist piece for The Sun shortly afterwards.

I would go on, but why bother? In tribute to Sir Ian and his recycling of brooding scaremongery, I give you the post I wrote last year when he first expelled this rhetorical guff.

—

Does Sir Ian Blair, Metropolitan Police commissioner, have any time to do any actual, y’know, policing? He seems to spend so much time putting the wind up the public these days that, if he was in any other profession, his boss would be saying, “do that on your own time, Blair, not the company’s.”

He’s been at it again tonight in his Dimbleby Lecture . (How many hearts must have sank at “During the next 40 minutes…”)

Is this his job? What he’s paid to do? I, and others, would argue that it is not.

And how about this?

The sky is dark…

Ring any bells? It’s the same gothic imagery he used in his last piece of scaremongery, published in The Sun, during his failed attempt to interfere in the parliamentary debate of the new terrorism legislation.

He’s obviously very pleased with the metaphor. Maybe it comes from a poem he wrote as a teenager (”Why do all the nice girls hate me?” or somesuch) and somebody said, “Oooh, Ian. I don’t know how you do it but you paint the picture so vividly”. That stayed with him and ever since he’s been dying to use the phrase again. And again.

It makes you wonder what’s next from Britain’s Top Cop. Maybe he could embark on a busking tour (as long as he’s got his busking licence) of the London Underground, regaling commuters with a rendition of “A Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall“. Hours of fun to be had writing his set list. It’s The End Of The World As We Know It.

‘A’ Bomb on Wardour Street?

…being fitted for an orange jumpsuit have been greatly exaggerated. After a slight server hiccup, I’m back.

While I’m here, I might as well alert you to the current rash of blog roundups requiring attention. Tim Worstall’s Britblog Roundup #91 and Mr E’s Swearblogger Roundup #6 are now available for your viewing pleasure. Also out is James Higham’s Blogfocus offering a perusal of the graphic images bloggers use.

The stench of death and defeat that’s now hanging around George Bush’s presidency is reminiscent of downtown Baghdad on a hot day. There are bodies all over the place. And just as Saddam, the architect of Iraq’s pre-war abattoir got notice of his come-uppance this week (a long drop and a short stop), the architect of its post-war slaughter was also pushed from his perch (with an admittedly softer landing, cushioned, no doubt, with lucrative job offers from the defence industry).

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When Saddam was stringing people up and torturing dissidents, Tony launched a war in order to stop him (at least we *think* that was the reason). Now the new Iraqi regime wants to hang Saddam and government-sponsored death squads roam the streets of Baghdad using drills on their victims, poor Tony doesn’t seem to want to talk about it.

See here for full hissy fit. And here for more.

Right here.

No YouTube version yet - I’ll post one if it comes up.

Update: Here it is…

Well, he’s gone. At last.

I heard about it from my Dad who texted with ‘did Rumsfeld jump or pushed?’. I sent back ‘almost certainly pushed’ although, serendipitously and satisfyingly, the predictive text on my Nokia first gave me ‘purged’ instead of ‘pushed’.

Rumsfeld becomes the Republican’s Charles Clarke - fired less for his failings in his job and more as the fall guy for a poor show at the polls.

Just what’s changed since October 25, other than the mid-term results, when George Bush said of Rumsfeld ‘I’m satisfied with how he’s done all his jobs’ and called him ‘a smart, tough, capable administrator’, isn’t clear.

Ten days later, however, there’s been a change of heart and things in Iraq are deemed now to be ‘not working well enough, fast enough’ according to the President.

So, it’s farewell as Donald retires, left only with his lucrative job offers and his memories. I’ll leave you with my favourite piece of his ‘poetry‘. It’s a sliver of wistful Americana that almost makes you forget the mountains of corpses and the oceans of misery, the imperial arrogance and the gritted-teeth malevolence. Almost.

Glass Box
You know, it’s the old glass box at the—
At the gas station,
Where you’re using those little things
Trying to pick up the prize,
And you can’t find it.
It’s—

But they used to have them
At all the gas stations
When I was a kid.

Update: Flying Rodent reminisces:

“Destroy our credibility as a freedom-loving nation!”, they cried from Oregon to Florida, and he did. They howled, “Let the blood of the foreigner stain the front pages of the world’s media, and to hell with them!”, and Rummy was on hand to give the country what it demanded.

Update updated: Steven Poole is his customary dry self:

‘Steps down’ as a euphemism for ‘resigns’ or ‘is fired’ is part of the metaphor of verticality in talk about power. You reach ‘high office’ and then ’step down’ from it afterwards, if you manage not to ‘fall’ or get ‘pushed’. (I suppose the ‘corridors of power’ must be steeply sloped.)

So I turn my back for five minutes and suddenly we’re executing Saddam?

I’m almost afraid to go on holiday, there would be nothing worse than getting home to discover everyone had spent the whole time I was away holding Kim Jong Il’s head down the toilet and pulling the flush.

Still, I see that the news has gone over well with those whose fierce commitment to universal human rights flops like a stiffy in a scissor factory the moment we, the Americans or the Israelis rev up our war machines to unleash some kick-ass whizz-bang upon lunatics and civilians alike.

read the rest…

Tim Worstall’s weekly Britblog Roundup and Mr E’s Swearbloggers Roundup.

After hearing his latest populist self-abasement, you really have to wonder if there’s anywhere left to go for Gordon Brown in his desperate quest to make the British people like him. Today we have:

I like TV programmes like X Factor, Dragons’ Den and The Apprentice. They show the value of aspiration, how anyone can achieve things.

This after his claimed love for the Arctic Monkeys (a claim later disavowed during his recent conference speech, with the ‘joke’ ‘I’m more interested in the future of the Arctic Circle than the future of the Arctic Monkeys’ seemingly the zenith of the Brown sense of humour), his declaration that Paul Gascoigne’s goal against Scotland at Euro 96 is his favourite football moment, and his new whiter than white smile.

Has he actually watched X Factor, Dragons’ Den and The Apprentice? If these were to be the benchmarks of aspiration under a Brown Premiership, then we really are buggered. What next, a new theory on wealth creation? ‘Winning the national lottery shows the value of aspiration, how anyone can achieve things’?

The programmes are even more pernicious than America’s so-called Horatio Alger myth in their power to delude. At least in Alger’s books the aspiring protagonists ‘achieve the American dream of wealth and success through hard work, courage, determination, and concern for others’. Under Brown’s model, the same success is achieved by merely sucking up to some domineering and ill-mannered patron.

It’s the very essence of ‘networking’ which is rapidly becoming the only way to succeed in Britain today (if you didn’t go to Oxford or have a father who runs a newspaper) despite the activity pretty much translating as ‘pretending to like someone you don’t in order to extract from them something you want’. It’s also the very essence of the Blairite meritocracy which has poisoned the well of genuine aspiration and dictates that it’s not what you know but who you know that allows you to get on in life. You find someone richer and more powerful than you to do the heavy lifting for you. It’s writ large throughout Blair’s career - to pick a random example - from the trade union fix that got him his safe Sedgefield seat to his perching himself on Bush’s right hand.

In a week where Blair, yet again, showed himself to be the philistine we all know him to be, was it too much to expect that Brown, the man regarded as his successor and New Labour’s intellectual powerhouse, might resist trying to outdo him? Like I said, where left for him to go from here?

Expect him to say sometime soon that he’d like to give that Paris Hilton one. It’s just about all that’s left in his race-to-the-bottom quest to prove he’s just like us. That’s if he isn’t going to allow himself to be photographed after a night out, sick down his suit, kebab in hand, a love-bitten blonde on one arm and a celtic-design tattoo on the other. Maybe the next time he gets asked a difficult question in Parliament he could strike a pose and shout, ‘You on crack, bitch?’

Not so much a conflict of interest as a World War II of interest.

Who knew that the morale of our troops in Iraq was in such a parlous state? Despite our boys being, as Tony Blair said last month, ‘the finest, the best, the bravest, any nation could hope for’, the Government, it seems, is extremely concerned that the lads are close to breaking point.

The reason the Government has dug its heels in and refused this week to hold a public inquiry into the Iraq war is because it would ‘undermine’ our troops, the poor, fragile things.

Here we have ranks of men, trained to fight, to kill and, sometimes, be killed. Hard men, in other words. And yet we’re expected to believe that an inquiry into the events that sent them there will destroy their morale. Clearly the British army is collectively on the point of mental collapse, needing only one more setback to reduce it to a parade of blubbing nancy boys.

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Human rights are British. Human rights are as British as the Beatles. As British as the BBC. As British as bitter.

That was the Lord Chancellor, Charles Falconer this week, the man responsible for our legal system, finding an unlooked-for lyrical alliterative outlook in his unelected and illiberal largesse. You have to wonder how much it cost the tax payer to come up with such patronising and transparently contrived nonsense.

Ah, the evergreen Fab Four, our world-renowned broadcaster and the upstanding British pint. Of course, our championing of human rights around the world fully deserves to stand in that glittering pantheon. The thing is, the Government doesn’t perceive human rights in the same way the rest of us do. For them, our core of humane and decent values isn’t so much one of cast iron as one of warm plasticine to be shaped and moulded as they see fit. And like plasticine when you mix all the colours, human rights in this country right now are starting to resemble a shitty brown mess.

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Olbermann’s Special Comment (11/1/06) on Vimeo. Fiery.

(Text transcript here.)

New Labour has been running the health service for nearly ten years now. They must therefore take responsiblity for its current state. Whatever your party politics or your doctrinal beliefs there is no other sustainable position.

And what is the current state of the NHS? Health care in this country is worse than it has ever been.

read the rest…

Three reports in two days make it utterly clear that Britain is about to become the Twenty First Century’s first surveillance society. It is not being melodramatic to say that each one of us stands on the threshold between a world in which individual liberty and privacy are taken for granted - and appear to the majority to be unthreatened - and a dystopia of total and unwavering scrutiny by big corporations and the state.

read the rest…

One of the clearest messages to come out of this astonishingly long and convoluted document, is that no one in Mr Brown’s department gave a toss whether a lay person could make sense of it or not.

read the rest…

Millions of personal medical records are to be uploaded regardless of patients’ wishes to a central national database from where information can be made available to police and security services, the Guardian has learned.

Details of mental illnesses, abortions, pregnancy, HIV status, drug-taking, or alcoholism may also be included, and there are no laws to prevent DNA profiles being added. The uploading is planned under Whitehall’s bedevilled £12bn scheme to computerise the health service.

read the rest…