All of us should be heartened by the news that Tom Kelly, Tony Blair’s former official spokesman, has been awarded the Order of the Bath.

It was Kelly’s job to read aloud to journalists from pieces of paper handed to him by government spin doctors and to occasionally slip the metaphorical stiletto between the ribs of potential political threats. It was Kelly who memorably described Dr David Kelly as ‘a Walter Mitty‘ type. Kelly (Tom) found it in his heart to apologise for the remark after Kelly (David, Dr) was dead.

That such modest talents should be enough to earn a medal for chivalry (the temptation to use quotation marks around that last word was almost too much to resist) is a rallying call to the rest of us toiling away in obscurity.

The enobling of Kelly (Tom) demonstrates that fame and fortune are within the grasp of anyone with the reading skills of a seven year-old and the ability to administer a put down to people whose abilities dwarf your own. Tom Kelly was, in a final analysis, a blogger attaining greatness.

Fly my pretties, 2008 is ours for the taking.

Well, then. Nearly over for another year. Hope you had/are having a good one. They say Christmas is a time for giving and my liver is giving me gip. In return, I shall shortly be giving it a holiday.

Anyway, Mammon was very good to me this year. A shiny new camera and not one but two tiny remote control helicopters.

One of the highlights must surely be the present from my mother-in-law. One of these babies - a Doctor Who Judoon Captain Sound Effects Helmet.

I’m 37 next birthday but my partner’s mum always pitches her presents at my level of arrested development with frightening accuracy. The remote controlled thises and thats. The Star Wars DVD box set. The enormous model of the Starship Enterprise that also doubled as an FM radio.

While tottering around the house in my helmet issuing quasi-fascistic grunts, I noticed this message stamped on the inside:

‘WARNING! This is a toy. Does not provide protection.’

Which makes you wonder about the kind of person who might consider using the Doctor Who Judoon Captain Sound Effects Helmet as a hard hat and therefore require said warning.

‘You be careful when you’re up on the roof adjusting the television aerial.’

‘It’ll be ok, I’ve got my Doctor Who Judoon Captain Sound Effects Helmet.’

…or…

‘Fancy a spot of pot-holing at the weekend?’

‘Too right, I’ll dig out my Doctor Who Judoon Captain Sound Effects Helmet and I’ll be as safe as houses.’

Surely, the warning message should be left off the helmet, you know, for the good of our species. We could have a whipround and buy one for, well, you know.

Joyeux whatever, y’all.

…if you work for Westminster Council, as Jamie points out, you’re denying the homeless a bowl of hot soup.

If you work for the Home Office you’re busy splitting up families on Christmas eve. Evil never sleeps.

I say evil but it’s really just a case of someone enjoying their job a little too much. When bureaucratic efficiency is indistinguishable from malice, why bother hunting for the distinction?

Most of the poor sods forced to work today will prat about in the morning, have a few pints at lunchtime and then slope off early. No such genial seasonal piss-taking by the boys at the Home Office, oh no. Maybe they make a concession to the time of year by wearing Santa hats when they’re kicking in asylum seekers’ doors at dawn.

And all under the auspices of a Labour government. The next person to say to me that New Labour is still the best vehicle for progressive change in this country is liable to get a punch up the bracket. The oil of human kindness has leaked out of its sump and the engine has seized.

One hopes someone has bought Gordon Brown a new moral compass for Christmas because the one he’s got that he likes to brag about is clearly knackered.

But wait, there’s more:

The home secretary, Jacqui Smith, was today ordered to return a 15-year-old Iraqi asylum seeker to his UK foster carer after a judge condemned the way he was forced out of the country.

Mr Justice Collins criticised the “total lack of humanitarianism” of the way the authorities had launched an early morning raid to seize the boy, who later ended up on the streets when he was flown back to Austria.

Now that’s talent. It takes a proper pedigree bastard to dream this kind of stuff up. I suppose we should be grateful that these people are working for the Home Office and not freelancing. Otherwise they’d be holding the world to ransom with laser-satellites made from diamonds or bombarding us from orbit with poisons created from rare orchids. Or making suits out of dead prostitutes.

(Via Philip)

A good one this one:

Russia’s foreign ministry said Wednesday it would temporarily close regional offices of the British Council cultural organization, marking a further deterioration in bilateral relations.

…

“I think it’s a very sad fact that there are two countries in which the council is not allowed to operate. That is Burma and Iran,” British Foreign Secretary David Miliband said, using the former name for Myanmar.

“I just hope the announcement today from Russia does not signal they are taking steps down that road. That is unwholesome company in which to be.”

Except the British Council has got offices in Rangoon and Tehran.

Young Miliband really must try harder with his propaganda. It’s not as if the material isn’t out there.

(Via Private Eye)

Blair’s biographer Anthony Seldon has written tenderly of ‘Blair’s innate Catholicism‘.

Now forgive me, and it’s just possible that I’m unique amongst Catholics on this, but I have never ever regarded my Catholicism as an inherent quality. Rather, the faith was forced into me by various teachers and priests via the good offices of fear and intimidation. Catholics are the foie gras geese of world religion.

As to the question of Blair’s faith, they say God moves in mysterious ways but in the matter of Tony Blair and the application of his ‘innate Catholicism’ to geopolitics, Our Lord was dancing the Watusi to Rachmaninov while wearing a purple tutu and howling like a gibbon.

I’ve said before that our erstwhile prime minister kept his Christianity almost miraculously well hidden during his time in office. It’s a wonder the military aren’t now begging Blair to consult on the design of the next generation of battlefield camouflage.

Imagine if you could shield a stealth bomber using his ‘innate Catholicism’. A fleet of these invisible aircraft could make our nation great once more. The application and implications of this technology are beyond the dreams of us all.

Britain, let us harness Blair’s Catholicism for the greater good of our country!

It’s official: Tony Blair has converted to Catholicism in time for Christmas. It’s a timely move - I took my Mum to midnight mass last year and we all got a bar of chocolate at the end. I’m sure Tony with his love for a freebie had that in mind.

Apparently Blair, when giving his first confession as a Catholic, took with him a crib sheet of his sins to help him remember them. It took six Hercules military transport planes to deliver it.

And you have to say that the Catholic Church is taking a big risk in welcoming Blair into the faith. Look what happened to the last organisation having Blair as a prominent member - there was a stampede for the door.

As collection plate donations dry up at grass root level, will the Vatican be forced to turn to shady practices in order to shore up its finances? I’m sure Tony could suggest some candidates for the job now that Paul Marcinkus has joined the Choir Invisible.

‘You can’t run the Church on Hail Marys,’ as the late Archbishop said. Who’d pay for all the chocolate?

Maybe there is a reason to be cheerful at this time of year. We’ve been given a huge reason to celebrate this very week:

Planning an effective flood management strategy is as important as planning for terrorism or even preventing bird flu, an independent review by Sir Michael Pitt, who is the chairman of the South West Strategic Health Authority, has said.

“We’re all facing up to climate change and there are all sorts of implications for the country in terms of having to adapt to that change,” Sir Michael said.

Climate change and flooding are only as bad as terrorism and bird flu? Well, thank God for that. Maybe He exists after all. I mean, think of the rather small numbers of people who have been killed by terrorism or bird flu in the past few years.

If Sir Michael had likened the damage caused by climate change and flooding to the carnage wreaked by, say, cars, alcohol, botched invasions of Middle Eastern countries or those cancers that leave you screaming for death, I think we’d all have all been running round like Chicken Little this week.

But no, it’s all going to be all right. We can all relax this festive season and for many festive seasons to come. Hardly anybody is going to be killed by climate change. Except maybe quite a lot of brown people and most of those don’t celebrate Christmas anyway. Isn’t it always the way?

So, chin up. Happy Christmas!

…so I’ve laid in a crate of import-strength lager and my shortest temper, as is traditional at this time of year. I’ve been out and done the obligatory ’spend money you haven’t got on stuff people don’t need’ so I’ve discharged my responsibility to the economy. Gordon Brown shouldn’t refer to us as voters or tax payers. No, we should be his army of little economic Atlases. All wearing Santa hats if that makes you feel any better.

Anyway, I’m off now to bitch incessantly about how the telly is shit again this year. Happy whatever to you and yours. Back in a bit.

Here’s your pressie:

(Parts 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12.)

Ben Bradshaw, the Health Minister, said that there was no evidence to suggest that ambulances were a major source of infection.

It’s an interesting construction is ‘we have no evidence’. This government use it a lot. What it really means is ‘we haven’t looked and we have no intention of looking’. Tony Blair acted the same way when faced with allegations of John Prescott’s sexual misconduct. Worried about what horrors he might find should he start looking for evidence, he killed the issue by allowing sleeping-around dogs to lie.

You have to be thankful that others - ooh, lets say the police - don’t operate in the same way. The television show CSI would be dull indeed if the forensics team acted like this government.

Homicide cop: ‘There’s been a murder. We think Chuck McSwagger may have done it.’

CSI Person: ‘Nah, there’s no evidence’ (goes back to his Sudoku puzzle).

On this post here, there’s been some small discussion of what might happen to Tony Blair in the afterlife and how he might avoid spending eternity having a special relationship with a red hot poker.

No doubt he’ll find this useful:

Pope Benedict XVI has authorised special indulgences to mark the 150th anniversary of the Virgin Mary’s reputed appearance at Lourdes.

Catholics visiting the site within a year of 8 December will be able to receive an indulgence, which the Church teaches can reduce time in purgatory.

I wonder how many years off your sentence a visit to Lourdes gives you. If Tony visits every day he might only have to spend a couple of hundred million years in Purgatory.

How did Benedict decide to grant indulgences based on visits to Lourdes? Did God appear to him and say, ‘Ben, tell them to get their arses to Lourdes in the next 12 months and I’ll put a little bonus in their heavenly bank accounts’? I’d genuinely like to know how these things work.

As a Catholic (I’d say ex- but I don’t think you ever truly escape) whose religious education had that extra-special Augustinian twist, I’ve always regarded the faith as arbitrary, unjust and, to be frank, made up on the hoof (you can see why it would appeal to Tony Blair).

Take the concept of limbo for instance. It used to be that if a child died before it had its original sin expunged by baptism it couldn’t go to heaven. Instead, it suffered ‘lesser punishments’ in limbo. This injustice was certainly one of the (smaller) nails in the coffin of my Catholicism.

I say ‘it used to be’ that unbaptised babies went to limbo because Benedict XVI effectively abolished the place in April this year. I’d like to know why God told St Augustine one thing and the current pope another. It makes Gus look a bit of a heartless chump really. Whereas Benedict seems to understand the power of public relations in a kiddie-centric world.

Why he hasn’t also declared that ickle puppies have spiritual souls and all go to heaven, God only knows.

Charles Clarke unwittingly puts his meaty finger on the source of the country’s woes:

There is only one question for Labour - how do we win the next election?

‘Twas ever thus.

SUMMARY

You don’t need police permission to sing carols in support of Christmas near Parliament, but you do need police permission to sing carols against it.

WEBSITE

http://www.bloggerheads.com/carols/

DETAILS

Section 132 of the Serious Organised Crime and Police Act 2005 makes it illegal to demonstrate anywhere near Parliament without official police permission. Under this act, it is an offence to organise or take part in a demonstration within the ‘designated area’ (up to 1 km around Parliament) if authorisation has not been applied for and granted by the Metropolitan Police Commissioner.

Unless of course you believe in Santa Claus, in which case an exception will probably be made.

In 2005, Tim Ireland organised and staged a pro-Christmas demonstration in the form of a carol service in Parliament Square.

Traditional songs were sung in support of varying aspects of Christmas, a minute’s silence was held, and money was collected for Medical Aid for Iraqi Children.

No singers were arrested. In fact, Police said they treated it as a carol service, not a demonstration:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/london/4545704.stm
http://news.independent.co.uk/uk/politics/article334675.ece

The event was repeated in 2006 and again the Police chose not to classify the event as a demonstration.

It also needs to be noted that - in cases where permission is applied for and Police do not regard a proposed event to be a demonstration - they will issue a statement to the applicant saying so instead of approving the application.

Following an epiphany inside the main lobby of Parliament, Tim Ireland decided that the time had come to take a stand against Christmas.

On 12 December 2007, he submitted an application to the Metropolitan Police Commissioner for a carol service that would be exactly the same as previous events, with one primary difference; carols would be sung condemning varying aspects of Christmas, instead of supporting them.

On 17 December 2007, notice was given that this application was approved.

In other words, staging an event in support of Christmas is legal within a designated area without police permission, and staging an event against Christmas is not.

This is a clear case of discrimination, likely to be in contravention of the Human Rights Act and the Equality Act.

Tim Ireland said; “Speaking as one of many who have seen the argument from both sides of the pole, I find it appalling that someone who does believe in Santa Claus should be given preferential treatment over someone who does not. In fact, I’d like to take this opportunity to ask Gordon Brown what the official government policy is on Santa Claus; is it their position that he exists, that he doesn’t exist, or that this is a matter that should be the business of the individual and not the state?”

Sadly, Santa Claus is only the tip of the iceberg. Some people who reject Christmas do so because they do not believe that Jesus Christ is the son of God, and see no reason to celebrate that birthday. Others will object to Christmas because they reject the notion of an all-powerful deity altogether.

There are also many devout Christians who reject Christmas on the basis of commercial, secular or pagan influences:
http://tinyurl.com/yvab7h

There are even some pagans who object to Christmas on the grounds that many aspects of their winter festivities have been ‘hijacked’ by the Christian church:
http://tinyurl.com/scgqu

All of these people suffer from discrimination, not only at the hands of the Metropolitan Police Commissioner, but also from certain tabloid newspapers that are positively rabid in their defence of Christmas.

Someone should probably stage a demonstration about that… but they’ll need police permission first.

EVENT SPECIFICS

The anti-Christmas carol service will take place at the base of the statue of Winston Churchill in Parliament Square at 6:30pm on Thursday 20 December 2007

Song sheets and candles will be made available, with donations going to Medical Aid for Iraqi Children

Those attending should dress warm, and bring a bell, whistle, or other form of non-electronic noisemaker for the minute of noise (which will replace the traditional minute of silence).

CAROL EXCERPTS

The following are excerpts from our song-sheet, a full version of which is available for download until the afternoon of 19 Dec in exchange for a £2 donation (again, with all proceeds going to Medical Aid for Iraqi Children):
http://www.bloggerheads.com/carols/

Bah, Humbug!
(to the tune of ‘Jingle Bells’)

Ebenezer Scrooge
Wasn’t all that dumb
Until he met the Ghost
Of Christmas Yet to Come
Then he lost the plot, and woke up with a scream
Then foolishly made life decisions based upon a dream!

Oh, bah-humbug, bah-humbug
Bah-humbug, I say
We are demonstrating here
Protesting Christmas Day

-

God Rest Ye, Jobsworth Gentlemen

A Santa Claus who asks a child
To sit upon his knee
Might likely be a paedophile
Or threat to elf safety
So issue now the order
That he cease and leave them be

O warnings of health and safety
Health and safety
O warnings of health and safety

-

The Twelve Days of *Hic*-mas

On the first day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me
Four shots of gin
Three cigarettes
Two pints of beer
And a breath test on the M3

-

Santa Claus is Coming to Town!

Oh! You better watch out,
You better not plot,
You better suppress bad thoughts that you’ve got
Santa Claus is coming to town!

He’s making a list,
Misplacing it twice,
And now you can buy that list at a price
Santa Claus is coming to town!

CONTACTS

Please contact Tim Ireland via tim@bloggerheads.com if you have any queries regarding this story.

ENDS

This clever little educational tool is a bit good. Learn to identify and remember Orion, Jupiter, the Big Dipper, Polaris and more in the night sky and all in about 15 minutes. And you’ll be able to navigate your way home from the pub on a dark winter’s eve.

(Via Rachel)

Click here for more information.

Specially written carols, a minute’s noise and The Airing of Grievances.

I’m going to be there, with bells on.

You know, I didn’t/don’t really have a problem with Tony Blair being a committed Christian. What bothers me is that, while Prime Minister and not hiding his devout faith very well if truth be told despite his recent protestations, he very rarely displayed any kind of Christian sentiment. Deporting people to where they might be tortured. Turning a blind eye to extraordinary rendition. Cluster munitions. Depleted uranium. Civilian deaths. And on and on.

It’s not the fact that he’s a Christian that makes him a nutter. It’s the fact that he think his actions are compatible with Christian doctrine that puts his sanity in doubt.

Right here.

Fiery.

Personally, I’m rather disappointed by this.

Greenpeace is making its first attempt to get lads to go eco-friendly with a risqué viral ad featuring men and women who literally have light shining out of their rear ends.

I know the climate change message is one that needs to be spread as widely as possible, but I was hoping that the demographic of wilfully ignorant, Nuts-buying, compulsive masturbaters would be some of the few victims of global warming.

Just think of the washing machines, electricity, detergent and other vital resources you wouldn’t need if these wankers were wiped out at a stroke. Maybe we should have at them before sea levels start to rise.

…to bad rubbish Ike Turner. Boo hoo, rock ‘n’ roll pioneer. Boo hoo, Rocket 88.

You know what? To borrow from Jamie Kenny, writing about another wife-beating arsehole, it meant nothing from the moment Ike first raised his hand to his wife.

Why do famous wife-beaters always get a ‘but’? Sure he hit his missus but did you see him play guitar? Sure he hit his missus but did you see him kick a ball? Sure he hit his missus but…

Tell you what, try this: spend ten minutes talking to someone who’s worked in a women’s refuge and see if these arseholes are still your heroes afterwards.

Fuck the lot of them.

Hopefully all the wrinkles have been ironed out.

While the blog’s been down I’ve been entertaining myself with idle revenge fantasies against the horrible little spunker who orchestrated the Denial of Service attack in the first place.

Some of the details of the attack are quite interesting. The blog wasn’t just hammered from one source but several. The IP addresses of those sources were very intriguing.

Two IP addresses were of note. One was sourced back to the offices of one of the UK’s larger gas and electricity suppliers. God knows what jobs its online abuse team do but chasing online abuse doesn’t seem to be one of them.

The other IP address was sourced back to a department within the American government. I did toy with idea of sending my server logs showing the attack to the FBI’s Cyber Investigations department. What larks that could be.

Don’t get me wrong, whoever did this shows some small spark of sapience. Spoofing IP addresses must take some rudimentary skill. I’m not suggesting real intelligence, more a driving instinct like the one that makes a dung beetle push shit around for a living. Yes, that kind of thing.

Hello. Well, it looks like I picked the wrong month for my blog to be on the receiving end of a Denial of Service attack, doesn’t it? For a minute there I was worried the government might fall before I was able give vent to my self-importance once again.

I suppose I should be pleased and flattered that some lonely little sociopath was offended enough to deem me worthy of their time, attention and effort. Generating thousands upon thousands of ‘404 page not found‘ errors on Chicken Yoghurt, exceeding the bandwidth quota and thus taking down the site clearly demanded a very special brand of dysfunctional personality.

But then I think, no. Isn’t it just another example of the societal and cultural zeitgeist that has always been and will always be with us? Namely, the knuckle-dragging tendency that - rather than attempt an arrangement of reasonably carefully chosen words - reaches for a blunt instrument. It’s the instinctive reaction when words fail a certain kind of person, I suppose.

Anyway, I’m back. Kudos and undying gratitude must go to the very excellent Mr Clive Summerfield who has taken me under his technological wing.

Special love must also go to Chicken Yoghurt’s number one fan who made the return possible. They know who they are. As do the people who emailed to ask if everything was ok.

Many thanks must also go, however, to the ‘maverick’ with the ‘elite’ ‘hacker’ ’skills’ who no doubt rubbed himself with self-appreciation when Chicken Yoghurt went down the other week. You see, while the blog was down, I wrote this piece about the Labour Party donor scandal for The Guardian’s Comment is Free blog, just to keep my hand in. It was meant as a puckish, throwaway, Brooker-esque romp; a self-satisfied poke at all involved.

So, imagine my gleeful surprise when the piece was later selected as an ‘editor’s pick’. This means in a week or two, I’ll be receiving a small cheque by way of recognition. As coincidence would have it, this sum is a little over my webhosting fees for the next year. If it wasn’t for our bell-end of a hacker chum, I’d have had to find that money myself. Instead, the Guardian will foot the bill. Ah, the silver lining.

I must, however, also send a message of sympathy and pity to our king dong of a hacker chum. Why sympathy and pity, you ask? Well, I once felt as he does: my ‘enthusiasm’ for computers defined who I was, my resentful inarticulacy made me want to lash out and my only comfort was incessant masturbation.

I was thirteen. I do hope, for his sake, that our pendulous ballsack of a hacker chum has a similar excuse, the inadequate little quim. Time for them to spend less time at their keyboard, perhaps? They could pay someone to have sex with them, maybe?

As I say, I’m back. We have much to discuss…

So they want 58 days. When you’re trying to sell something, always go with your highest price first. It’s the first principle of haggling. Who doubts they’ll settle for less?

Last week the Home Secretary claimed she didn’t have a clue how much they were going to ask. It didn’t take long for her to calculate her profit margins as it turned out - they saw last time that at 90 days demand was too elastic.

Now it’s a question of who bottles first, the government or those who don’t want to move beyond 28 days detention. If it’s the latter then we get into the horsetrading to see how far both parties are prepared to move.

Any number between 29 and 58 is a victory for the government. They get an increment and, like last time, get to smear their oppenents as appeasing suicide bombers. When it’s actually the other way around.

They can then come back next years and the next and the next to demand another increment. They’ll go with the highest price first, 72 days maybe. Under this process they’ll eventually get their way - and why stop at 90?

(See also Parkinson’s Law.)

The chief of police in the southern Iraqi city of Basra has warned of a campaign of violence against women carried out by religious extremists.

It has, Maj-Gen Abdul Jalil Khalaf said, included threats, intimidation and even murder.

Some victims were dressed in indecent clothes by their killers or had notices attached to them, he said.

And as they breathed their last, no doubt those women we relieved. Could have been worse - it could have been Uday or Qusay Hussein pulling the trigger.

Mission accomplished.

There are many stories from this great nation of ours. Here’s another one to make your heart swell with something or other.

Let me tell you the Ballad of Beatrice Guessie.

They came for young Beatrice in the dead of the night
Taking her back to Cameroon on the next available flight
The immigration officer, three guards and the doctor
They hadn’t got far before they’d threatened to clock her.

Still bruised and still bleeding, they put her back in Yarl’s Wood
There’s an Early Day Motion for the great and the good
Nineteen have signed, condemning the thuggery
That’s one sixth of the number celebrating the rugby.

Write to the Home Secretary Jacqui Smith.

Update: But it’s all going to be ok, hopefully some time next year:

The Home Office says it will change the way abuse allegations against immigration staff are handled following criticisms from a government watchdog.

The Border and Immigration Agency’s Complaints Audit Committee said immigrants’ and asylum seekers’ complaints were often not followed up.

It found just 8% of complainants were interviewed and 89% of investigations were “neither balanced nor thorough”.