Israel insists it’s targeting specific militants. Though in bombing the most densely populated place on earth that’s a bit like finding a bee hive but only targeting specific bees by using a mallet. It’s easy to badmouth Israel but the fact is that one way of reducing the risk of injuring civilians is to reduce the number of civilians actually around to get injured.
Netanyahu insists there could be a Palestinian state. But not till Israeli settlers have nibbled so many bits off the West Bank that the Palestinians can only fit into what’s left by stacking themselves up like a motorcycle display team.
There’s understandable concern in the UK that the conflict could spread across the Middle East. It would clearly be a calamity – another 5p on petrol. Basically, the Palestinians took a wrong turn back in 2006. They were offered a free democratic vote, and they went and voted for the wrong party. Let’s look at this historically and realistically. Germany should buy Crete from Greece and give it to one or other of them.
Like most of the international community I’d like to see a two-state solution, where people live side by side. I’d like to see one state occupied by Israel. An aggressive, destructive military power who stops at nothing to bulldoze and bomb their neighbours. And I’d like the second state to be Essex.
But congratulations are due to US Secretary of State John Kerry on getting the Israelis and Palestinians in the same room together. Apparently his trick was to give the Pales-tinian representatives a room first, then put the Israelis in one next door, and wait. Initial talks went better than expected due to Kerry’s radical approach. He told Middle East peace envoy Tony Blair they were being held in Turkey. Blair’s not had the best record in his role. He has more the air of a man sent ahead to check stabling facilities for the Four Horsemen.
Allegations of chemical weapons being used by the Syrian government have raised the possibility of Western intervention. To summarise, the Syrians are killing each other with the wrong type of weapons, so we’re going to kill them. Syria’s war is much easier to bear if you think of the past two years of death and destruction as an elaborate opening ceremony to World War Three. Poor Syria. Now the papers have started printing pictures of dead children, maybe we will see the ones killed in US drone attacks, or shall we wait for the hardback coffee table book? The heartbreaking photos have opened the world’s eyes – if you want people to care about your dead children make sure they die in a way that’s not icky to photograph.
One of Syria’s tactics is trying to destabilise Iraq by flooding it with refugees. A bit like a humanitarian version of Buckaroo. Interesting how it’s often the militant Islamists whom Arab dictators are killing; wonder where they got that idea from? Looks like any invading American force would have to start their mission by saying, ‘Now . . . this is awkward . . .’
I can’t believe our MPs voted not to back the US. The UK’s going to look as stupid as back in the 1960s, when we chose not to follow them into Vietnam. As I write, we’re being told that, unlike Danny Dyer, America must now act to maintain its credibility. The UK said any bombing would only be for 12 hours – but remember to always round projected war timings up to the nearest decade. The big question is all about UN approval. Does the West need to bother pretending to get it or not? It’s all about making surgical strikes. From 100 miles offshore. Like having your appendix removed by a circus knife-thrower.
Things are now so bad there that Bernie Ecclestone’s put in a call to President Assad about hosting a Grand Prix and we’ve been dropping in troops as ‘advisors’. It’s all perfectly legal so long as when they shoot someone they say ‘I advise you to die.’ In some ways I suppose Syria’s lucky. Imagine how bad things would be there without the years of skilful work by Mr Blair.
Blair says we must take a stand against al-Qaeda in North Africa. Although obviously he doesn’t mean that he personally will be taking a stand as he doesn’t want to get shot. He’d like you or your kids to get shot, for something that the untrained eye might think should possibly be the business of, and I admit I’m going way out on a limb here, North Africans. Cameron’s warned that the UK could be fighting al-Qaeda there for decades. Or to put it another way, until the oil runs out.
Cameron even did a tour of North Africa’s most dangerous spots. That’s a bit like the head of an abusive, violent family visiting the foster homes all his grandchildren have been placed in, then lecturing them that they need to behave if they’re ever going to get anywhere. Cameron visited Martyrs’ Square in Tripoli, where the riots began. Wonder when he last popped in on Tottenham?
No one seems to be concerned that we’re just about to launch a war against Africa. I’m guessing the public will only begin to take notice when a cluster bomb intended for a primary school hiding enemy combatants accidentally kills a baby elephant. If the war in Africa escalates, Broadway musicals will be uniquely placed to react to events with a topical show by simply performing The Lion King and Miss Saigon in the same theatre. This might be the only campaign where the RAF drops red noses before doing a loop and then launching missiles.
Western leaders have expressed their support for the new government of Libya, telling them it’s a time for calm, reflection and rearmament. Hopefully, the rival clans will now be brought together by their rich shared history, going back almost sixty years when their country was created by the French and the English whipping out a pen and ruler after a piss-up.
Libya is far from poor. Apart from its oil, being 90 per cent desert has made it the world’s largest exporter of egg timers. They could now make a fortune from tourism. The beautiful coastline and Roman ruins make it ideal. Plus all the random weaponry would be ideal for men on stag weekends to rent for drunken camel shoots.
The campaign was a triumph for NATO, their in-house magazine praising the campaign of air strikes with the headline, ‘4 schools, 2 hospitals . . . but no weddings this time!’ The campaign does send a strong message to the remaining tyrants in the Middle East. Look what might happen if you drive too hard a bargain with our oil companies.
*I don’t really think this. Murderers (for good reasons) tend not to leave witnesses. The whole Batman story is just the revenge fantasy of a little boy dying in an alley.
5
EUROPE
It’s difficult to understand why Britain and other European countries can’t agree on anything. It’s as if they each speak a different language. Why is Europe such a big issue? The entire world is pretty much run by a network of banks so the whole question of Europe is largely about whether or not we want access to a slightly wider range of cheeses. One reason for its importance politically is that it’s a kind of last refuge of racism. Not a lot of those anti-Europeans want us to leave Europe so we can join Africa.
The other reason is that the City of London is essentially a big tax haven. We launder a lot of the world’s stolen loot here in Britain, and our politicians view Europe as regulation. The general attitude is that of a pirate ship being asked to sign up to regular health and safety inspections.
I’m in the happy position of hating both anti-Europeans and most of Europe. I remember that whole guilt trip at the time of the Greek bailout about how the Greeks had no work ethic, the Spanish didn’t work long enough hours, and they were all being bailed out by hard-working Germans. Have you been to Germany? It’s a fucking nightmare. Everybody works the whole time so they’re all stressed out and the smaller towns have almost nothing in them as nobody has any free time in which to do anything. The Greeks are being punished for attempting to lead some kind of life worth living while international finance tries to persuade them of the fun they could have as a work camp.
Cameron says the in/out referendum in 2017 will settle the ‘European question’ although it’s still to be decided whether there will be a third option of shaking it all about. But it all depends on the Tories being re-elected. So the chances of the referendum happening are about the same as Ireland building a space station. Besides, 2017 is years away. We don’t know w
hat the world will be like then. Other than that we’ll be part of China and everyone from Morph to Optimus Prime will be a convicted nonce. Forty-three per cent of people would answer yes to ‘Do you think UK should remain a member of the EU?’ I suspect they could get nearer to 95 per cent just by subtly tweaking the question to ‘Have I not got any idea what this is really about?’
The problem is there’s no ‘control’ UK, in other words there’s not another country that wasn’t a member of the EU to compare things against – in the same way I don’t know how my life would have turned out if I’d not had a kid, as there’s no control Frankie. Sadly he died in 2006, on the rim of an erupting volcano in a knife fight with his nemesis, ‘control’ Phillip Schofield.
When people have no real choice you start to embrace the irrational. That’s why the very poor are often preyed on by mediums and spiritualists. And that’s exactly what voting for UKIP is, really: the sort of irrational decision we make when we’re powerless. UKIP are political tea-leaf readers encroaching on the territory of politicians engaged in a sophisticated long con operation, in the same way clairvoyants used to infringe on the swindle being worked by the Church.
But what a great year it’s been for Nigel Farage. After all that Olympic nonsense, it’s about time the St George’s Cross was reclaimed by arseholes. UKIP fielded so many candidates in local elections they had to admit they didn’t vet them. They got them like pub football clubs get a team on a Sunday morning – ‘Hello, have you got your own shorts? Right, you’re the candidate for Haverford West.’
A UKIP candidate was shown with a knife between his teeth and holding a Union flag. For one glorious minute I thought he’d killed Geri Halliwell. UKIP’s politics are a little vague but I think the main one is to take the trillions wasted on diversity officers and use the money to fund a time portal taking us back to 1972.
UKIP have pledged to get us out of Europe – which might be a bit tricky given where the country is. David Cameron’s been warned he has to take Nigel Farage seriously, a hard task given that he’s got a face like an indignant gecko. The likes of UKIP have some nostalgic view of a lost Britain of supportive communities. Sorry, bampots, but these communities still exist; it’s just that they’re Muslim and Sikh. Amusingly, Farage tried to escape from a gang of Scottish protestors by hiding in a pub. Which is like trying to hide from a lion by putting on a zebra costume.
Cameron called UKIP supporters ‘odd’. Which is a pretty fair description of anybody who thinks the Tories are too pro-Europe. UKIP candidate Geoffrey Clark’s manifesto says foetuses with Down’s syndrome should be aborted. There is an argument for the compulsory abortion of some foetuses but how on earth can you tell in the womb if a baby is going to grow up to be a UKIP candidate? As Geoffrey’s already in his late sixties, I’m sure he’ll allow himself a chuckle at the irony when his family smother him with a pillow so he’s no longer a burden on them.
After weeks of riots, Greece was burning. Troubling times, but it must have smelt gorgeous. Our rioters were criticised for stealing things rather than making political points; the Greeks burnt down Starbucks. I actually have more respect for our rioters coming away with more than pride and a travel mug. It’s sad to see the inventors of democracy doing so badly at it – it’s much like watching the English play football.
In their election, Greece had no clear winning party and was reluctant to form a coalition. It’s quite something when a country of homeless people setting fire to bins don’t want to make the same mistakes as the UK. The Greek parties say a coalition would be a tragedy. This is a country that defines tragedy as pulling out your eyes in exile after killing your father – the difference being that with our coalition you’d be expected to work through your blindness and set up a co-operative to bury your father.
I’ve always said that their outgoing prime minister Papademos wasn’t good with finances. Ever since 1993, when band-mate Pliers made off with all the royalties from their hit ‘Tease Me’. I’ll admit I’d no idea the Golden Dawn were a Greek neo-Nazi party. Especially as for the last five years that’s where I’ve been getting my lemon chicken and spring rolls from.
The £110 billion bailout to save Greece was called a failure hours after it was signed off. A sad day. Greece used to be a proud and progressive country, just 2,400 short years ago. The IMF are worried about economic growth – to be fair, it’s quite hard to go shopping when a balaclava-clad teenager has just thrown a petrol bomb through the menswear department.
Greece invented maths, democracy, homosexuality and philosophy. Then nothing for a long time. Now they just break plates. They’re like a genius who’s had a mental breakdown. I think a big problem is that one of their main industries is smoking under trees, while a feral cat scratches their chair leg. Everything there is now up for privatisation. I want to buy Lesbos because I’ve got an idea for a theme park. Of course, not everybody’s suffering in Greece; at least there are now a couple of teargas billionaires.
British tourists have slept with so many Greeks the whole country is now officially considered an ‘ex’. We’ve got a bunch of their stuff, they owe us money. And there’s more of our spunk in their sewers than in every sperm bank in the UK.
Angela Merkel was greeted by thousands of angry protesters when she arrived in Greece. There was an awkward moment when protesters picked up bricks and petrol bombs – then started running around trying to find something that hadn’t yet been vandalised. Fortunately, the majority of Athens’s most valuable treasures weren’t affected – as the riots didn’t come very close to the British Museum. The only comfort in seeing the greatest civilisation the world has ever known crumble into decay is the knowledge that one day the same fate will befall America.
It’s quite sad, really – we’re threatening Greece to accept our help when they yearn to be strong and independent, as if we’re forcing a £50 note into the bloodied, trembling hand of a sobbing teenage prostitute. It’s a shame that China will finally take over Europe by buying it as I was rather looking forward to seeing the attack formations of their swarms of robotic bees. Greece, if you think you’re angry now, just wait until you’re eating egg foo young out of a pitta bread.
Actually, I’ll be interested to see what happens – round my way every place that goes bankrupt gets turned into a pound shop. Greece could end up being 50,000 square miles of scourer sponges and Pritt Sticks.
In Cyprus people were unable to withdraw money, mainly because there were fifteen camera crews standing in front of every bank. A Cypriot MP said Cyprus was being raped by Europe; then once Ryanair flew all the stag parties back to Birmingham she discussed her financial problems. Rape’s not the correct analogy; there’s no one inside Cyprus because Cyprus is frightened they will be killed if they say no, but I’m sure we could arrange for an American occupation if anyone can find some oil.
There are great fears that Cyprus will end up under the control of the mafia, but Europe’s intervention isn’t yet guaranteed. In debt to the Russian mafia or in debt to Europe? Tough choice. Face threats of a slow death by radiation or be made to watch Angela Merkel make small talk over a vol-au-vent whilst she forces your daughter into prostitution.
6
SPORT
Sport exists because we’re so emotionally damaged and distant that we need a shared narrative to be able to relate to each other. You’ll have done that thing where you find yourself round someone’s house and the telly is on and you don’t know each other that well, but you interact by making shared reference to this third thing? Sport is just a larger societal version of that, playing pointlessly in the corner of the national imagination. A neutral conversation piece, a very basic way of making sure you’re not talking about politics or love.
There’s that old Nick Hornby idea of footballers being our chosen representatives on the pitch. I wonder if sport might not actually be about celebrating the worst in ourselves. Just as Star Trek can be seen as being about our suspicion that we would achieve mor
e if we let our impulsive, psychopathic side (Kirk) dominate our rationality (Spock), so sport might be a fantasy about a life unburdened by intellect giving us the opportunity to bawl our approval for someone who – in a world of ever-increasing knowledge – has focused on running and jumping. We’ve all looked into the unknowing eyes of a dog and envied him for not being worried about anything past dinner, sex and exercise. It wouldn’t be so very different if you looked into the eyes of Jamie Carragher.
The cultural weight that sports are given is deeply irrational. The BBC drew up plans to deal with news stories during the Oympics – only major stories would interrupt the Games. That could have led to some interesting sports commentary if there’d been a tragic event not deemed major: ‘There goes the starter’s gun, which reminds me, if you have a child attending school in the north-east you might want to turn to BBC Two now.’
The marketing of sport with its cod nobility is just silly, really, and it’s remarkable how the reputation of things such as the Olympics survive the evidence. It’s been revealed that much of the 2012 Olympic merchandise was made by children in China. For them the five Olympic rings mean the ones around their ankles, wrists and neck that stop them straying from their workstations. Finally, Wenlock and Mandeville make sense – they were created in the nightmares of tortured Chinese slave children. They’re the physical manifestation of despair. You’ve got to respect the Chinese; they can get their kids to make soft toys with enough consistency to start a commercial venture. I can’t even get my kid to put on his shoes when I want to leave the house.
Scotland’s Jesus: The Only Officially Non-racist Comedian Page 6