Your Say Thursday: Has Immigration Affected Maternity Services?

It's that fateful day again, ladies and gentlemen. This week's Your Say Thursday was going to involve guest publication 'The Daily Express' and their Have Your Say segment which is usually populated with even more hapless thickies than the BBC's offering. I had it all lined up and ready to go for you, but then I spotted what I believe the Americans like to call a doozy of a question over on the proper, British Broadcasting Company Have Your Say site: Has Immigration affected maternity services? True to form, it brought out plenty of the Armchair Adolfs that you all love, so I've snipped out just the very best for your enjoyment.

They are welcome to use our services that we have paid for.

All they have to do is present their credit card, cheque or cash when they check in ..... just like we have to when we are in foreign countries. All I ask is they pay the cost, not a commercial price to cover what they will take out of the pot to which they have not contributed.

We must be absolutely mad and the laughing stock of the world
[meribelman], Cardiff, United Kingdom

Dear Meribelman, an enquiry: how many babies have you birthed in foreign countries in order for you to come to this obviously educated conclusion about how they work? Or could it be that you're talking out of your ill-educated arse? Here's the deal: name me three countries in which this is the case and I won't come round to your house and paint the word 'NUMPTY' on your genitalia. I'll even start you off: America. But remember if you ever go to the States and manage to fall down and break your leg (heaven forbid), you have officially forfeited any and all right to complain when they won't set your thigh for less than $1,000.

And they wonder why they create so much resentment.
J W, Leeds

Yes, naughty immigrants, having children and that. Honestly, of all the reasons I've heard for immigrants stirring up resentment - blowing everyone up twice a day and three times on sundays, their ignorant insistance on knowing a language other than English, their blantant insistence on not being from Dagenham - the fact that they have the biological capacity to reproduce was never one I thought would figure very highly. Unless you're a loony like JW, obviously.

Tragically, the world lost many sons and daughters doing that in World War II...and now, one might ask, was it all in vain?

Many in Britain are now concerned that today it may have been.
[PIKU-2]

Yes, Piku, there's almost as many immigrants and foreigners running around now as there would have been under that notorious multiculturalist, Adolf Hitler! Oh wait. I do enjoy it when people sit around and invoke the memory of Churchill and the Battle of Britain when attempting to justify opinions that Rudolf Hess would have been ashamed to utter in public.

If we're talking about legal immigrants then there is no arguement. They're entitled to care. If however, we're talking about medical tourists, then no, they should not have their babies for free.
KAREN BRIDGES

While we're at it, Karen, can we do something about the 16-year-olds that get pregnant, fart out little baby Campari and then sit on their fat pockmarked arses for the rest of their days draining money from the government teat? Or does charging for babies only apply if you're brown? Oh I see, you're fine with your taxes going to British tax leeches, just not foreign tax leeches. Let's make a deal, I'll pay all the tax you pay on Polish couples to come here and have their babies, while you can pay all the tax I pay on setting Darren and Stacey up with their new council house for baby Ronaldo, OK?

I have been working in Japan recently. The stark contrast when I return to UK makes me think I have travelled from a developed to developing country - we are going backwards fast. The Japanese are patriotic, proud, look after their own first - foreign people are even excluded from a lot of bars in order that the Japanese can enjoy them the way they like without being disturbed by people with different cultural ideas to their own. This stretching of maternity services appalls me - just wrong.
[andysurf100], St.Austell, United Kingdom

You've got the right idea there, Andy, but why not push it further? Instead of just excluding them from bars, lets exclude them from English restaurants as well, so we can enjoy our fish and chips without being breathed on by a forrin. While we're at it, let's make them sit at the back of the buses as well. Actually, let's not even have those nasty forrins working with us! I for one don't want any dirty forrin infecting my air. Let's send them all to work on farms, I hear the British cotton industry needs a good shot in the arm. Welcome to the slippery slope, Andy. Don't fall and break your hip or anything, you chronically addlebrained mouth-breather.

Immigration affects not only the NHS but everything and everyone... since this is expense to the taxpayer whether legal or illegal.
David Smith, Leigh, Lanc's., United Kingdom

Hasn't affected me. Hasn't affected my family. Hasn't affected my friends. I'm not saying I went out and researched this, but then again, neither did you. Either way, your point just died on it's arse, as does everyone else's that makes sweeping claims like "everyone is scared of people with beards". If you want to make a convincing argument, you're better off referring to specific examples, sort of like this one: You, David Smith of Leigh, Lancs, are a top-drawer idiot.

If you say "Yes!" and agree that immigration is a major cause for concern and the breakdown of ALL public services in this country; you will be branded RACIST by the PC liberal left.

If you say "No!" and believe that we should continue with our open door policy and disregard the fact that it is a major cause in bringing about a breakdown in our society; you are either BLIND or an IDIOT.
[jerryatric], BARNSLEY

You choose, Britain. If you say "Yes!" and agree that immigration is a major cause for concern and the breakdown of ALL public services in this country, you will be branded a sensationalist cock, by me.

If you say "No!", some right wing idiot from Barnsley hiding behind a 'clever' nickname will make the heroic effort to engage his CAPS LOCK key to berate you with playground insults because of his inability to grasp the concepts known to all rational human beings of "debate", "middle ground", "compromise" and "please just fucking die". Why are you concerned anyway, jerryatric? It's not like anyone in their right mind ever wants to go to fucking Burnley anyway, so you're probably safe from the brown people for now.

Get a grip. Those of us who were born in the UK (I'm 62 and can trace my ancestry back over 300 years) would like our country back.
Colin Shepherd, Farnham, United Kingdom

Erm, congratulations on being quite old? What do you want for that, a Rich Tea biscuit? If I manage to trace my family back earlier than 300 years ago, do I get more of the country than you? A hundred or so years ago, a good chunk of my family was Romanian, so can I swan over there and claim a nice little apartment in the Jewish quarter of Budapest as my birthright? I met a bloke once who was part English, part Dutch, part Swedish and part Guyanan, he could get a bloody empire going if he heard about this. Think things through, for crying out loud.

Immigration has effected every walk of British society. Guns and knives are being used against youngsters and considered normal practice in some countries where these immigrants emanate from ... Its scandalour. Joy
Joy Pattinson, ROLLE, Switzerland

The fact that the 'youngsters' being nicked for all these fathers-of-three being kicked to death in the street are all pasty white kids called Darren is a coincidence then? Maybe they've all been framed, and it's all one big bastard called Talumu Umbekwe going around birthing babies and stabbing pensioners all over the shop; would that make it easier on your dinky little brain, Joy? I'm not denying that people of all creeds and colours commit crimes, but making out that Britain was some sort of crime free haven of justice and freedom and only turned into this crime-ridden cess-pit when the damn dirty forrins turned up is frankly ludicrous. What do you know, anyway? You live in fucking Switzerland. Shut up and get back to your ski'ing.

Anyway, that's enough for today, my brain is starting to dribble out of my ears.

Looks to me like Fabio Capello's first England squad is up and it looks like a good one, I might post about that a little later if I'm not in the pub. Things ought to settle down now with the blog as the crisis with work has now passed, so I'm ready and able to get on with the serious matter of telling the internet that I'm an arsehole. Blogger's apparently going down again early this morning, though, so that ought to be fun. Domain name soon. Promise.

Goodnight.

Edit: Oh cock. Ballsed up that title a little bit, didn't I? Fixed now.

Sorry About the Mocking, Jeremy

Hello, people of the internet. I come bearing the horrible news that spack-handed TV presenter, charity worker and all around general good egg Jeremy Beadle has died. Now I'm not going to make any jokes out of respect for the man that entertained me throughout my childhood by winding up thick twats for my personal viewing pleasure, but don't be too shocked if he comes popping out of his coffin going "you should have seen the looks on your faces! You're on Coffin-Cam!". Or not. There's not a great many jokes you can make about pneumonia, but you've got to wonder just what a man who was born with a congenital deformity, survived leukaemia and had a cancerous kidney removed only to eventually succumb to pneumonia, all while raising over a hundred million quid for charity, has to do to get a break. Either way, lots of sympathy goes out to his family, as in the world of insufferable TV arseholes, he actually seems like he was a good bloke. Oh Lord, why in your infinite wisdom could you not see your way clear to taking Russell cocking Brand instead?

I've got other ideas - Noel Fielding in a plane crash perhaps? John Leslie in a quadbike accident? Les Dennis in some sort of hideous collision between his eyes and a rogue supertanker full of paint stripper? I'm just throwing suggestions out there. You know, in case anyone's listening.

In other news, Irish planes-running-on-potatoes airline RyanAir has been ordered by the Advertising Standards Authority to withdraw an advert featuring a model dressed as a 'sexy schoolgirl' because it "irresponsibly linked teenage girls with sexually provocative behaviour". Might I suggest that, if the ASA are going to start pursuing that angle, they might want to order the withdrawl of every friday night town center in Britain, because I don't know about where you live, but around here you'd be hard pressed to find a teenage girl not linked quite strenuously with sexually provocative behaviour. Whether they like it or not, with the way British society is at the moment, perhaps if the ASA are truly shocked and offended by the idea of teenage girls sexualising themselves, they ought to consider withdrawing themselves from Britain, because the second their representatives spend a friday night anywhere other than in deep prayer for our mortal sexualised souls, their eyes are going to burst. Widespread offence my arse, the Daily Mail didn't even receive a single complaint, and they complain about bloody everything.
However, if you're curious and you want to see what the Advertising Standards Authority's reaction to the existence of the Spearmint Rhino might be, it might look a little bit like this, frankly the scariest thing you can see on a passenger aircraft, with the possible exception of a big gap where the wing used to be at 55,000 feet and climbing: a mid-flight pilot-based nervous breakdown. Not a quiet, sobbing "she took the kids and moved in with Carlos" type of breakdown, but a full-on raving 'I demand an audience with the baby Jesus RIGHT FUCKING NOW' type breakdown. The best kind, though admittedly not when the bloke is in charge of flying your big tin tube safely to it's destination. It's quite frightening to think, with all the stringent checks there must be on mental competence, etc, that pilots must go through, that you can be perfectly normal one minute and shouting about the rapture coming next thursday the next. I didn't think the disconcerting image for passengers of a crashed plane left at the end of a Heathrow runway a week or so back could be beaten, but seeing your pilot being carried out of the cockpit in limb restraints foaming at the mouth and screaming about Jesus probably tops it.

Don't fly Ryanair, kids. It makes you into a mental.

Also, the award for 'Most Painful-Sounding Headline of the Year' goes to 'Court orders return of new baby'. It's not quite what it sounds like on first glance, but it's the mental image of the midwife getting a good run-up on the rugby punt to get the little bugger back up there that I can't shake. My favourite BBC News headline ever is still last year's "Bus Kills Family", just for the short, stark horribleness of it, but this one has to be up there in the "I'm starting to think they do these on purpose" category.

In sport, Liverpool fans have launched an audacious bid to purchase the club themselves after Dubai International Capital seem to have cooled their interest. Initial prospects suggest that they will need to get 100,000 Reds fans to pay £5,000 each. It's not going to happen, obviously, because while I don't doubt that a massive club like Liverpool have plenty more than a paltry 100,000 fans, very few of them will have £5,000 they're willing to spare to purchase a tiny part of their football team, even with the unique kind of passion the Scousers have for their football. You can understand why they'd try, though, what with the insipid way that Liverpool rolled over and played dead for West Ham today, but the blame for that still has to lie at the feet of Rafa Benitez rather than anyone higher up, and he should probably walk before the board. Frankly, Reds fans, if I had a couple of billionaires willing to buy my club a new stadium and £60m worth of new players every year, I wouldn't argue with them, and would eye with deep suspicion any manager that cannot beat West Ham, who for however much I do rate them as a top-8 force, shouldn't really trouble a team with the calibre of players Liverpool have without some serious questions being asked.

Elsewhere in the football it was same-old, same-old, as Avram Grant's total football revolution continues to elude Chelsea as the 1 - 0 juggernaut established under Jose Mourinho rolls on and on. That said, if Chelsea miss out on titles this season it will be because of The Special One's early-season stumbles and not the results gleaned by the zombie-faced Grant, which just keep lurching forward, slowly and ominously, towards the small, scared, huddled group of teams which comprise their remaining fixture list. Over in the blue half of Liverpool, Jonathan Woodgate made his debut for Spurs as he did his share in making their 0 - 0 draw with Everton one of the dullest affairs I've seen all season, while Ronaldo scored some more goals and did a bit of posing as well, to ensure that both the male and female contingents of the red half of Manchester went home happy, and that the groundsmen had a difficult job ahead of them wiping suspect substances off of a good few of the Old Trafford folding seats. I hate him. It's not for footballing reasons, it really is just pure unashamed jealousy, honest.

Also, I've been hanging about for fucking ages now waiting to be able to publish this post, because Blogger decided to take their servers offline for some 'Lets Annoy Blandford' time just as I added the last full stop, but I've run out of things to say for today so I won't bore you to death with details of my life, except to say that tomorrow looks like being a short day for me, so I ought to be more than alright with tomorrow's edition of Your Say Thursday, which is good, because I've got a proper guest publication lined up and everything. Never let it be said that I don't vary my material. Still, thanks for that, Google. Domain name soon.

Goodnight.

How to Murder Your Parents: A Video Diary

Right, you horrible lot. Computer problems dealt with to the best of my ability. Anyway, on with the day. If I'm a bit incoherent tonight it's because it's rediculously hot in here - yes, in the middle of January - and it's all I can do to think and type at the same time. It must be approaching 80% humidity in here and I can barely take it even as I sit here typing in my underpants. This is what I get for having three computers and two TV on, all at once, in one room, all day, trying to find a way to fix this fucking thing. Anyway, I'm rambling, so I'll get on with the news.

King Kev's dream return to Tyneside continues to be an unadulterated disaster as supposedly crisis-ridden Arsenal have now caned them 3 - 0 twice in just over as many days. I have to say, for a club falling apart under the weight of expectation, Arsenal are doing pretty well, but then again it's probably not hugely difficult to wipe the floor with a side that hasn't scored since the Geordie Messiah came back, and that has a defence that has all the watertight capabilities of a badly-woven gym sock. Missing out on Woodgate could be a huge problem for Keegan come the end of the season, as I just don't see who's going to step into the breach and stop the rot at the back - the Geordies might love their exciting football, but you still need a solid base at the back, especially when your strikers just can't seem to score.

Most of the other games of the day took place at the other end of the table, with Sunderland beating Birmingham 2 - 0, Bolton and Fulham playing out the most boring 90 minutes I've ever seen with a 0 - 0 draw at the Reebok, and Jeremie Aliadiere scoring his third Premiership goal in about ten years - not a bad return is it? - to lead Boro to a 1 - 0 win over Wigan. No particular exciting or shocking results this week, with the big news being that Fabio Capello is soon to name his first squad as England manager. David Beckham has confirmed that, as every woman from here to Tokyo seems to know, he is 'fit and up for it', while Dave Kitson, a comparible Adonis of a man, has been touted as the answer to England's striking problems. To be fair to him, his club are better than Newcastle and he's in much better form than Michael Owen, but I expect Fabs to play it safe in the media and play Owen and Rooney up front, regardless how out of form Owen is. I'll be pleasantly surprised if someone like Ashton, Agbonlahor or Kitson got a go, but thanks to the British press Owen is pretty much guaranteed a start whenever he's fit until such time as he drops dead or becomes manager instead. Oh well, let's hope Capello springs a surprise and picks on merit. Hopefully not too much of a surprise, though, as I don't fancy Lee Trundle up front, do you? Maybe he should get Rocky Baptiste on the phone.

In other news, a Tory MP has been arrested and released on bail for 'assaulting two teenage children' - of course, we know what this means; he gave some chavs a clip round the ear. If they start doing any more of this sort of thing I might have to start voting Conservative. Also, I think we have an early contender for Weirdest Crime of the Year - a 15-year-old girl apparently making a video diary of the planning and failed execution - if you pardon the pun - of the murder of her parents. Getting caught on camera committing a crime is one thing. Keeping a record of your plans to commit a double murder is also pretty stupid. The cake has to be taken, though, by making a plan to commit the crime, on film, attempting to film the act itself, and then filming a debriefing and a breakdown of exactly where you went wrong. What's weirdest is that her parents apparently let her go back upstairs to film the debriefing - why would you do that? If my child tried to stab me I'd hold them down and punch them in the face until the police arrived. I'm all for parental leniency but all that goes out of the window when the stabbing starts.

Anyway, I'm going to be honest with you, I'm knackered. More tomorrow, after I've had another busy day.

Goodnight.

The FA Cup Fourth Round Review

Welcome to another edition of The Blandford Examiner, this time coming to you from one of those Linux Live-CD jobbies at nigh on 5 in the morning thanks to Windows Vista going tits-up and me being unable to fumble about in my drawers (ooh-er!) enough to find the installation disc. Now that's dedication for you. Oh well, I've got this installing now and it's working pretty well so far, so I'm happy, and I highly recommend it if, like with me, your Microsoft experience decides to come to an abrupt and largely unexplained end. If not, you're more than welcome to have a fumble in my drawers.

Anyway, today was FA Cup Fourth Round day and I'm sad to say it didn't contain very many shocks. One piss poor team in gold thrashed another one 4 - 1 with Watford losing out to a Wolves team fired on by goals from Andy Keogh, Stephen Elliott and Jay Bothroyd, while the man with the most Irish name in the world, John-Joe O'Toole, scored for the opposition. Elsewhere, Avram Grant's pursuit of exciting football continued to prove fruitless as Chelsea uninspiringly and unsurprisingly beat Wigan 2 - 1, Portsmouth managed to put the same scoreline over Plymouth Argyle and an absolutely woeful Derby side were thumped 4 - 1 by Championship basement boys Preston North End.

Quite what the new American owners of Paul Jewell's dismal shambles think of what they've bought is lost on me, as it's going to take a whole new team by the middle of next week to avoid the drop, and even that might be a bit of a push. Derby's squad was devoid of any sort of talent or class, Robbie Savage looked like either his heart or his legs have gone out of the game and the rest of him barely got into it either, while Hossam Ghaly looked every bit the sort of player that turned down a move to Birmingham not so long ago because he might have to run a bit. Those were the players Jewell has supposedly brought in to improve things, so don't even get me started on the complete shower that was there to start with, as Claude Davis in particular had a shocker that would make Saw IV look like The Muppets Christmas Carol.

The second most interesting story of the day was Arsenal's game against Newcastle, with everyone keen to see how Arsene Wenger's side would react to the 5 - 1 Spur debacle. Gunners striker Emmanuel Adebayor continued to demonstrate his skills on the floor and prove he isn't just a great big head on a stick as he scored twice as the Emirates boys ran out 3 - 0 winners and, for once, it wasn't the Togolese international heading in the goals, it was former Man U midfielder Nicky Butt who scored the third Arsenal goal, which would be a great FA Cup story if he didn't play for Newcastle. If Gael Clichy had made a similar mistake earlier on, the game might have been different, after he headed the ball off the line during a first half where Newcastle created as much as their rivals, only for their highly suspect defence to let them down again, a fact which must be even more galling for Kevin Keegan as it appears that his move for Middlesbrough's Jonathan Woodgate has collapsed as the former Real Madrid man wants a move to Spurs. Personally I think he's making the wrong decision, Spurs have Ledley King - if he can stay fit for more than four seconds - Michael Dawson, Younes Kaboul when he comes good, etc and Woodgate isn't guaranteed a start, something that has frequently led to him leaving clubs in the past. Oh, and they're Spurs. Plus I think Woodgate would be a superb mentor for Steven Taylor, who is surely a future England regular, but oh well.

The biggest story of the day, however, has to be the exertions of minnows Havant & Waterlooville, who went out to Liverpool 5 - 2 at Anfield, but not before putting the wind right up them by going into the lead twice in a performance that will be bittersweet for the non-leaguers, as reportedly the fixture has netted them around £300,000, but will also probably see them lose most of their best performers to League Two or One sides. Obviously, the Liverpool fans are unhappy with their team being given a real scare by a team about 7 leagues and around 130 places below them, and the Scousers have been going mental on the BBC 606 boards, with some of them even beginning to round on Rafa Benitez, and frankly I'm glad that they're starting to agree with my opinion that anyone reckless, stupid or blind enough to spend countless millions of pounds on Vorinin, Kuyt, Pennant, Luis Garcia, Josemi, Zenden, Nunez, Kromkamp, Mark Gonzales, Paletta and so on really shouldn't be trusted by the board with any more money. He's made one or two really good signings, Fernando Torres, and Javier Mascherano the two I can think of, but Torres has been the talk of Europe for a few years now and Mascherano was an established Argentine international before he was shoved into the Upton Park shop window, so both are more a case of checking off Fantasy Football boxes rather than any triumphs of scouting.

That Lucas Leiva looks like he might be a good player, too, and scored a 30-yard screamer today, but then again, how hard can it be for a £40,000-a-week footballer to sidestep a van driver, shimmy past a bin man and slam the ball past a builder's apprentice who earns less than half that in a year?

So, as I said, not many surprises or 'cupsets'. Derby getting thumped by Preston might count as one, but I'm so used to seeing Derby get thumped by everyone they get put in front of that I'm just not surprised by it anymore. They really are rubbish. I reckon my pub team could go out next week and stick four or five past them, and our senior center back can't walk without a cane. Paul Jewell might be one of the most amicable men in football but it's going to take more than a smile and all his reserves of wily Scouse know-how to get Derby off the bottom. Maybe the new owners will pull something out of their sleeve by wednesday - Ronaldinho for Derby anyone? Anyway, tomorrow's fixtures feature the lowest-ranked team still in the competition after the departure of Havant earlier, League Two's Hereford United, taking on Cardiff City, Sheffield United versus a Manchester City team who will be wanting to get back on track and looking for a confidence-boosting win, and the glamour tie of the round, Tottenham vs. Manchester United, which will hopefully end with Wayne Rooney kicking Dimitar Berbatov's alice band off as Ledley King stoves in Cristiano Ronaldo's smug face before launching a career as a heavyweight boxer. I don't know about you but I'd pay to see Ledley King tear it up with David Haye, but given King's record with injuries I think he'd snap a hamstring going through the ropes.

Speaking of David Haye, I had a dream the other day that he completely destroyed Enzo Maccarinelli in the fifth round. Feel free to put a bet on based on the cider-fuelled premonitions of a bloke on the internet, but remember, if you got the tip from here I'm entitled to 50% of your winnings. Or something equally unenforcable.

I'm digressing. But speaking of premonitions, I doubt there will be any shocks in the Cup tomorrow. I think Cardiff will go over Hereford easily and end the magic of the cup for lower league sides for another year, Manchester City will sneak past a dedicated and determined terrier of a Sheffield United team by the odd goal and Spurs will lead Man U at half time, only for the Reds to emerge after a rollicking from Sir Alex and go on to beat them 3 - 1. Fucking hell, this predictions stuff is easy - how much are the BBC paying Mark Lawrenson to do this for them? He got absolutely bugger-all right today, and tomorrow he reckons it'll be Hereford 1, Cardiff 1; Manchester United 2, Tottenham 1 and Sheffield United 0, Manchester City 0. Let's see which one of us is the most right. If I win, I get his job and if he wins, he can come on here and talk to you lot on monday morning.

Goodnight.

Your Say Thursday: Should Terror Suspects be Held for Longer?

Hello you lot, Have Your Say time has come around again, and this time the question is about the proposed government legislation to raise the amount of time a terror suspect can be detained without charge from 28 days to 42 days. The full discussion thread can be found here.

""I'm less concerned about terror now than I was 20 years ago. LiberalLeft AndProud"

Well, that’s OK then isn’t it? Just a pity the loved ones of the 52 murdered on 07/07/2005 by real life terrorists (of which there are more plotting as we speak) are unable to enjoy the same devil-may-care attitude, eh?"
Matt Marshall

Well you've turned my opinion around, Matt. Thanks to your rediculous appeal to emotion, from now on I'm going to remember to shit myself whenever I get on a train. In the 80s and 90s, the IRA carried out no less than 16 major acts of television on the UK mainland, whereas bin Laden's mob have managed a grand total of one in the twelve years since the last IRA attack in February 1996. Now if you've got as far as your Maths GCSE, you should be able to work out that means that, statistically, we should be a lot less worried about terror now than we were 20 years ago, because there's a lot less terror going on, regardless of what bleating headlines tell you.

Hmmm, you'll ban the 'Three Little Pigs' nursery rhyme but you won't incarcerate suspected terrorists long enough to find out what they're up to. I'll be sure to skip the UK on my next vacation and go someplace safe.
Justin Thyme, Denver, United States

Oh please don't skip the UK, Justin, we just don't have enough Americans wandering around London getting confused by our bridges. And 'Three Little Pigs'? What does that have to do with anything? Are you somehow saying that banning things someone wants banned is alright, so long as you ban everything everyone wants banned, or are you making an argument that... what... the... now look what you've done, Jason. You've broken my mind.

"They can hold them for 42 YEARS as far as I'm concerned.

The issue here is MY human right not to be blown up by some lunatic."
[Sepenenre]

Yes, Sepenere, let's dispense with hundreds of years of legal tradition because you can't see a beard without pissing your pants. When will you idiots learn that it's not your 'human right' to take away those of others just because you think anyone from anywhere outside the Home Counties is a crazed paedophile terrorist coming to eat your face?

"I agree with the 42 days detention for terror suspects - or lets re-label and call those who are suspected of bomb making, bombing or be accused of any such crime. The 42 days has nothing to do with anyone else - unless you're caught with a ton of pesticide and don't have a back garden. Mutated with foreign languages these cases take time to package. I would bang them up for much more - I prefer the Amercian system of Guantanamo bay - much cleaner and efficient. It makes terrorists petrified"
Aargonaut, Birmingham

I find it hard to take someone seriously who can spell 'pesticide', makes some sort of complaint about foreign languages, and then comes out with such a nonsensical statement as "Mutated with foreign languages these cases take time to package". What does that even mean? Any of it? You are an idiot.

48 days?

This is Political Correctness gone mad.

Why shouldn't the state be allowed to lock up anyone they think is a threat indefinatley. Look at America they have Guantanamo Bay and since 9/11 they havn't had any terrorist attacks.

Thats what this country needs! Stop pussy-footing around Gordon Brown and get this sorted!
S, Fernando, Hailsham

Canada's law enforcement are only allowed to detain people without charge for 1 day, and they haven't had any terrorist attacks since ever. That's not saying that we should reduce the current maximum detention period, not at all. It's just saying that you're a mouth-breathing idiot who shouldn't be allowed an opinion, on anything.

"Steady on old chap, I am one of 'the people' and I am quite happy for the State to imprison anyone for as long as they need to in their efforts to keep me and my family safe.

Got that?"
Anne O'Malley, Leeds

I find it painfully funny whenever I see someone on Have Your Say who uses the fact they once gave birth as a weapon to try to bludgeon everyone else into agreement. I will not be happy if I get locked up indefinately by your own personal police force, so no, I haven't got that. You aren't talking to your fat, hellish offspring now, and it doesn't take brains nor grant dazzling insight to fire bawling babies from between your hideous blubbery thighs, you condescending old sow.

"I'm less concerned about terror now than I was 20 years ago.

LiberalLeft AndProud, United Kingdom

Dont pay much attention to this world do you? I would suggest you pay attention to what the islamists tell us they will do & actually are doing.
Being compliant, ignorant & pretending there is no threat belies the reality.
The islamists are spouting their radical agenda then hiding behind your laws & being protected by the empty headed thinkers like you & useful idiots in the media."
barry mulvany, Columbus, United States

Bloody hell, this LiberalLeft bloke seems to have really brought out the best of the loonies this week. Being compliant to what? Do you know what that word means? That would mean converting to Islam, which I presume is what you believe the 'Islamists' want us to do. What does 'Islamist' mean anyway? A follower of Islam is a Muslim, so it's not like there wasn't a word for it to start with. 'Spouting their radical agenda'? I don't know what it's like in Columbus, Barry, but I've never gone to the shops and been harrassed by some radical 'Islamist' who was 'spouting their radical agenda'.

You're like the BNP lot who put leaflets through my door saying that Islamic extremists were VERY DEFINATELY COMING TO MY TOWN TOMORROW during the recent local elections. I waited for bloody ages and they never showed up. They're a rude lot, those Islamic extremists. Throw them all out, that's what I reckon.

Anyway, that's quite enough idiots for this week, and I was actually slightly heartened by the amount of posts dismissing this idea for being the rediculous piece of arse that it is. I was expecting at least a 90:10 rating of numpties to normals, but it turned out to be nearer to 50:50, and special kudos must surely go to LeftLiberal who really got the nutcases into a frenzy. I don't like either wing but I've got to admit that the right lot are far funnier when they get angry.

Goodnight.

Just When You Thought it was Safe to Go Back to the Pop Charts

Now I know I don't have many reviews here. I just don't do them, because I don't like writing them and there's a hundred other people out there doing them far better than me. Despite all that, however, occasionally I come across something so face-meltingly bad I just have to make a comment. And by 'make a comment', I mean swear a lot.

In this case, its the album 'Soulja Boy Tellem' by, well, Soulja Boy Tellem.

There is a time and a place for incredibly bad hip hop, and unfortunately it seems to be the British pop charts. I doubt many of you have managed to escape 17-year-old Soulja Boy telling you how he's going to 'superman' your 'ho' for the last couple of months (internet research - alright, UrbanDictionary.com - tells me that to 'superman' a 'ho' means to either shoot your man-fluids on her back and then throw a cape on her, to fist her up to the shoulder thus leaving your arm in the 'Superman' position, or to sexually gratify her for a superhumanly long time. Which one Soulja Boy is referring to is left to your doubtlessly fertile imagination), while those among you of an American bent have been trying to avoid him talking about his report card. At least I think that's what he was talking about, I can't actually tell, as he talks like there's something wrong with him. I know that these rappers have a language all their own, but this isn't like that, he genuinely sounds like a special kid rapping through an old sock.

Apparently the clever thing about Soulja Boy is that he produced his own album, using just the demo of FL Studio, the music production package that used to be FruityLoops. The thing is, I've got FL Studio, and I'd be ashamed to put out the simplistic crap he does and I'm the worst amateur musician in the entire world. In any case, no software package in existence, no matter how sophisticated, can make you stupid enough to bounce around in outsized sunglasses with your name written on them in Tipp-Ex. As if that wasn't bad enough, every single track on his album consists of a catchy 10-second ringtone-marketable loop, repeated for three and a half minutes, over what is essentially the same beat. 'Crank Dat Soulja Boy', the song about fisting people (or whatever) that you've been hearing for two months, is 3 minutes and 48 seconds long, and about three minutes of that is the previously-mentioned instruction to Superman your ho, with the other 48 seconds being a slurred guide to the 'Soulja Boy dance' rapped like he's just got back from the dentist's after a particularly nasty filling.

After this brain-numbing opener, the horror truly sinks in as you realise that the beat for every other song on the album is based around samples from this one song, and the lyrics themselves all consist of the same routine of would-be catchy chants and verses consisting of lyrics so pointless and devoid of anything worth listening to that it's not worth a tenth of the effort required to get past his rediculously exaggerated 'Southern gangsta' accent and understand what he's actually saying. It's not good hip hop. It's not even reasonable hip hop. It's not even so bad it's good, like Randy Savage (yes, that Randy Savage)'s rap album, 'Be a Man'. It is just shamefully bad. He's even got a song about how great his phone is. I'm not even kidding, no matter how much I wish I was.

Also, before anyone accuses me of being the kind of unhip square who probably listens to Moby, I'm not. I fucking hate Moby. Well, I like the keyboard breakdown from 'Lift Me Up', but apart from those three and a half seconds his entire musical career has been based around annoying me in other people's title sequences. Anyone who inserts political essays into the inlays of their albums is a pretentious cunt, especially when they include things like, apparently from 'The End of Everything', "Could you look an animal in the eyes and say to it, 'My appetite is more important than your suffering'?". Yes, Moby, yes I could. I could also dropkick a marmot.

Moving on, if you want something new in the rap/hip-hop/R'n'B meta-category, leave Soulja Boy walking into things in his ludicrous painted sunglasses and listen to Mutya Buena - she used to be the pretty one in the Sugababes, who was replaced by... nobody, actually, the rest of them are fucking shocking. Anyway, surprisingly for a pop singer, she can actually sing, and is also helped by being gorgeous, despite the fact that in this video she looks like she's wearing my settee. Apparently she was nominated for a MOBO award last year, despite being absolutely everything else other than black, but then again I suppose when you're Filipino-Spanish-Jewish-Irish-Chinese, you're not exactly going to get your own Music of Extraordinarily Specific Origin awards - unless you make them yourself out of milk bottle tops - so you take your awards where you can get them.

In any case, if she's what global racial harmony looks like, is there any chance we can get Iraq sorted out so we can have some more of it? Ta. Any time now, lads.

Keep supermanning those hos. Or something.

Goodnight.

A Sip from the Heady Goblet of Fame

I just Googled myself. I feel so cheap and used.

Apparently, thanks to my 2008 Greatcionary hailing of psychological CSI knock-off Criminal Minds, and in particular the smoulderingly sexy Paget Brewster, I've managed to become result #14 on Google's cache of TV listings website MeeVee.com's 'Paget Brewster interest channel'. Yes, folks, #14, soundly beating 'Some Blog on a Guy's MySpace' into #15 and falling only two spots below the hard-hitting, insightful commentary of 'Upskirt pornography'. Fame beckons, and it's surely only a matter of time before I'm spotted by all sorts of nationals, studios, and other third-rate automated aggregator bots searching for any and all references to a target word or phrase.

Edit: I've just discovered I'm also the #1 result for 'nude midget' on Google Blog Search. Don't ask.

Goodnight.

Walking Alone, All the Way Back to Wisconsin

Right, I know you're all probably sick and tired of hearing about the situation with Liverpool and the owners' diasterous plans to... I don't know what they're up to, they're that disasterous, but I'm going to update you on the latest nuances of the problem because frankly anything's better than reviewing the complete and utter shambles that was on the TV earlier tonight. That 5 - 1 result was the worst Arsenal performance I've seen in over 20 years, and as much as it pains me to say it, Spurs deserved to win by that many and should probably have scored more. Every single member of the team was absolutely useless and if Wenger is capable of raising his voice, he should be shattering crystal right about now trying to find out exactly where everyone went to whilst Spurs passed it around like Arsenal just weren't there. Honestly, any performance that makes Jermain Jenas look good needs to be seriously looked at. It was like pulling teeth. Anyway, Liverpool. Any Kopites who still thought it was a good idea for club custodian Moores to sell up to a man who made his money in meat and his mate who used to sell Dr. Pepper must surely be reconsidering now, as the American pair have had to try to refinance their hundreds of millions of pounds of debt they gotten themselves into - I thought these blokes were supposed to be investment experts? I couldn't get myself into nine figures of debt, lads, and I'm crap with money. Meanwhile, as Liverpool's plans for a new stadium appear to be going up in smoke and the board continue to undermine Rafa Benitez as Liverpool finish the week below rivals Everton in the Premiership, all is not particularly rosy in the red half of Merseyside.

What the American owners don't seem to have realised about buying Liverpool is that Scousers, be they Kopites, Evertonians or - God forbid - Tranmere Rovers supporters is that they think with their hearts and not with their heads and, for the locals, your team isn't just the shirt you wear or the scarf around your neck, but a part of your very being. When Liverpool suffer, half the city laughs and the other cries, and both with heart and feeling that no other football fan, except those of the Old Firm, could possibly understand. Liverpool fans have the vitriol of the Kop in their veins while Evertonians bleed deep royal blue, and you do not mess with their club any more than you would walk into their living rooms and slap their mothers. What Tom Hicks and George Gillett are doing is a slap in the face of every Liverpool supporters' mother, and the Kop is burning with a hatred of their foreign rulers with a fury not seen even at the heights of the 'Love United, Hate Glazer' movement when their great rivals Manchester United were taken into American ownership. Prominent Liverpool blog ThisIsAnfield.com has gone as far as to suggest a boycott if the owners are not gone by the start of next season and, while it most likely will not come to that, the fact that such a representative of the Anfield club is willing to mention Benitez in the same breath as the legendary Bill Shankley shows the regard they hold the Spaniard, and gives an inkling of the distaste the have for the faceless, anonymous boardroom that may look to replace him.

A note to Tom and George from someone who has stood amongst the fury and passion of the Kop: Don't.

Elsewhere, the BBC has a shocking story declaring that, according to a survey, pre-marital sex is now accepted in Britain. The fact that pre-marital sex is now accepted isn't the shocking part, obviously, it's the fact that it took them taking a survey to realise that, in 2007, pretty much everyone is up to pretty much everything with pretty much everyone else. 10 minutes in any pub or club in any town or city in Britain would tell you that, and 9 of those would be their eyes adjusting to the darkness to avoid falling over the people rolling around against every wall with their hands down each other's pants. Heaven forbid they go into the toilets before they leave, they'd have to be taken out of there on a stretcher.

Oh yeah, and Heath Ledger's dead. And Konnie Huq's gone and left Blue Peter. I'll be honest with you, I'm a little devastated. She made some shite programme where crappy little kids won wanky little badges into a guilty late-afternoon pleasure. Not since Mina Anwar in Ben Elton bore-fest 'The Thin Blue Line' has the prescence of a dark-eyed beauty turned a completely shite programme into compulsive viewing - I wonder where she is now?

(For those of you keeping score, Google tells me she was in a play called The Vagina Monologues a while back, which can't possibly be as interesting as I imagine it to be).

Crushing Blow of Correctness Edit: In relation to The Vagina Monologues, Wikipedia says it's apparently several hours of women talking about their vaginas. Who would pay to see that? "Oh darling, I saw The Vagina Monologues last night, they sang a song about having periods and then a Belgian dominatrix with vaginal piercings spent nine hours talking about her fanny". Be honest, would you pretentious wallies go and see a bunch of builders talking about their bollocks? I wouldn't, and nor would you.

And they wonder why nobody goes to the theatre these days. Oh well.
Oscar-mocking tomorrow, I can't be fucked with it today.

Goodnight.

Cooking, Crack and a Consistently Lucky Frenchman

Fucking hell, are you all on strike or something?

How can there be two whole days of such utter tedium that I've actually been reduced to doing - shock, horror - work? When 3/4 of the country is underwater it limits the chances of mischief I suppose. Oh well, time to drag some sort of vicarious enjoyment out of today's news stories. Apparently, the government have mandated that all children from 11 to 14 will have to learn cooking for one hour a week. Pish. Education should be for teaching things they can't learn at home, or by themselves, unless it's at university where you're paying individually to do things like a Bachelor's Degree in Surfing, in which case go right ahead, it's your nine grand. Frankly, if you get to home-leaving age without knowing how to work a toaster or making things go PING! in the microwave, you are a retard and I hope you starve.

In other news, Amy Winehouse has been filmed smoking crack and consuming various other drugs, but then why this is news is beyond me, seeing as we've known she's a heroin-addled drug monkey for quite a long time now, and it shouldn't really come as a surprise to anyone that someone who wears sandals after injecting smack through her toes isn't particularly fussy about being filmed taking a swift toke on the crack pipe. Oh, and Pete Doherty has had a punch-up with a paparazzi. Maybe he's angry that Amy's nicked all his gear. Anyone want to tell me how and why Pete Doherty is still famous? Does he even have a band anymore, or is he solely famous for being a drug-hooked chump who's only contribution to the good of the world will be as compost? Answers on a postcard, with the winner getting a simulated evening with Pete Doherty and Amy Winehouse, where I sit you in a small room with a large smoke machine and argue with myself over a loudspeaker in alternating falsetto.

In other news, the Daily Hate has come out and criticised Arsenal manager Arsene Wenger for being 'lucky' with his transfer dealings, and claiming that the Gunners board is the most patient in the country for not sacking him for signing flops and not winning anything. Sheer tosh. Given that Arsenal are one of the lowest-spending (net, as in counting sales as well) clubs in the top half of the Premiership, and yet somehow manage to be the only team seriously challenging Manchester United for the Premier League title - and giving them a right scare in the process, I might add - makes this statement frankly ludicrous. Here's a list of the players they list as Arsene Wenger's worst flops - tell me if you think you'd like to have these flops in your team, if you aren't an Arsenal fan:

Pascal Cygan (£2.1m, Lille)
In a world where Curtis Davies is rated as being worth twelve million quid, Pascal Cygan is no way a flop at just £2.1m, and certainly twice the player of Abdoulaye Diagne-Faye, who Sam Allardyce spent around the same money on during his spell on Tyneside. In terms of £2m center-backs, Cygan did pretty well in a team bursting with defensive talent, with Sol Campbell in his prime, Kolo Toure as one of the best young center-halves in the world, and Phillipe Senderos who was, at the time, showing a lot of promise. 98 games in 4 years and a Premier League winners medal, not bad for a backup player signed for a quarter of the money a certain Graeme Souness once paid for Jean-Alain Boumsong.

Richard Wright (£6m, Ipswich)
This one was, admittedly, a bit silly. Regardless of his form for Ipswich, Richard Wright was not, is not and never has been worth six million quid of anybody's money, but he was a regular fixture in the England squad and we all know how that seems to delude managers into thinking shite goalkeepers are worth time, money and effort (see also: Paul Robinson). To be fair to him, he was immense with Ipswich and nobody could have known he would bottle it so spectacularly at a big club and wind up warming the bench at West Ham, and he would have reinvented himself at Everton - where he moved for £3.5m, recouping over half his transfer fee, after the emergance of Stuart Taylor - had he not done his shoulder in falling out of his loft.

Francis Jeffers (£8m, Everton)
The fox in the box that never actually was, Franny Jeffers is probably the only one on the list of flops that actually was one. Eight million pounds for Jeffers along with six million for Wright probably goes a long way towards explaining why Wenger got burned in terms of buying English players and, well, stopped doing it. The boy must have some sort of aura around him, though, because he's so far convinced seven managers to pay heartily for his services, five of them since leaving Arsenal, so if Wenger is guilty of signing a flop, then so is everyone else who, for whatever reason, decided to give Franny the Fanny 'just one more chance' to see if he can get off his arse and score.

Igors Stepanovs (£1m, Skonto Riga)
Back to my point about expensive center-backs. A million quid is peanuts to a Premiership club, and while he only managed 17 appearances for Arsenal, he was 24 years old when he signed and a million pounds is nothing to spend on a promising center back who was already a first-team regular for his country, even if that country was Latvia. Another for the pile of "flops, if you don't understand the transfer market or just really, really don't like Arsenal".

Jose Antonio Reyes (£16m, Sevilla)
Homesick Jose is hailed as a spectacular flop by most people, both because of his inconsistent performances and his constant yearnings to go home the entire time he was at the club, but if that's the case, then up to around 12 months ago, Cristiano Ronaldo was a flop, as he's made no secret of his desire to return to the Iberian peninsula and has quite openly courted Real Madrid. Jose Antonio was a good player, and definately exciting to watch. The idea that he was a flop in England is a false one, as the fact his transfer didn't work out and so we sold him on for marginally less than we paid for him after three years, 16 goals and the best part of 100 appearances wasn't bad for a player consistently played out of position on the left.

Maybe the Mail doesn't like Arsenal because they're Forrins? I couldn't possibly comment.

Oscar-mocking tomorrow,
Goodbye.

Haggis, Spring Onions and a Dash of Titus Bramble

Hello dears.

So that's another painfully tedious Sunday out of the way, with precious little happening anywhere as all the murders, rapists and idiots who ski into trees have spent the day in bed. In lieu of this terribly boring lack of violent death, I've been forced to make my own entertainment, which I did by watching the football and having a nice roast dinner in the pub - I'm not sure how long spring onion has been part of the standard roast beef layout, but whoever decided to throw a bit of creativity and flair onto my plate is a genius, because those elements were sadly missing from the football on show, with West Ham probably deserving to edge it over a lackluster Manchester City side who looked like Elano could do with a couple of weeks on the Costas, and Everton beat Wigan 2 - 1 thanks to a terrible mistake from Titus Bramble and the extraordinary power of Joleon Lescott's bonce.

Anyway you're not here to read about my gastrointestinal intake, but there's not much to tell you, I'm afraid. The Gaza Strip has been plunged into darkness because their one and only power station has run out of fuel because of Israeli restrictions (Maybe they ought to try not bombing the shit out of Israeli cities, then they might be a little more open to giving them some more petrol), the crashed plane just outside of Heathrow has been moved, which is probably a boon for anyone flying into Heathrow with a dodgy heart, who will have spent the last two days seeing a crashed plane staring back up at them on final approach, and the Scottish have asked the Yanks to lift their ban on imported haggis. Having tasted it, I can see why they've banned it, and see no reason why they should lift it. Apparently, the only haggis you can buy in America doesn't have enough offal in it. Be sure to read that sentence twice, because it's probably the first time you're going to see the words "not enough" and "offal" right next to each other like that outside of a Scottish cookbook. Seriously you lot, Gordon Ramsay looks like he can knock out a nice enough helping of pie and mash. You can learn.

The ultimate indictment of a boring day is, however, what they can find to put the sports link on the main page. Today must have been a bad day, because they've actually been reduced as far as linking to the snooker. And so have I. Apparently some bloke potted all the funny coloured balls before the other bloke. Fascinating. In other news, Liverpool co-owner Tom Hicks has denied that he is selling his half stake in the club to Dubai International Capital. Perhaps he's holding out for two Clefairies and a Charizard.

Anyway, I've got another hectic week coming up so the posting on the blog's likely to become a bit sporadic, so apologies in advance. I'll try to post as regularly as I can but I know that on at least two days I'll be completely swamped, so just bear with me and all the problems ought to be ironed out by the end of the week. Tomorrow ought to be alright, though, so until then, I'll bid you all adieu. If anyone's got to do something stupid to give me something to write about tomorrow, I hope it isn't you lot.

Goodnight.

Recommended Pant-Shitting Level: Elevated

Oh wank.

Looks like the Skelton vs. Chagaev fight is only on Setanta Sports, who are really pushing hard to gain mainstream acceptance lately by signing up sporting epics like... the Skelton vs. Chagaev fight and... well, that's about it. Oh well, I'm not paying £10 a month forever just to see Matt Skelton get his face punched in, so I'll have to listen to it on the radio, even though listening to boxing on the radio has to be the most pointless thing in the whole world - "Oh, he's hit him! In the face! He's hit him again! Oh, fucking hell!". It all seems a bit silly to me. Still, you can get 25/1 at the bookies for a Skelton win, any win, so that's probably worth a punt, just in case Chagaev's arms fall off or something.

In other news, the world's richest men continue to play some sort of weird game of trading cards, but with football teams, as Dubai International Capital look to buy Liverpool off Tom Hicks and George Gillett. Of course, the Scousers on the BBC's 606 discussion board are getting all shouty about hoofing the Americans out of the boardroom for daring to expect some sort of tangible return on their investment, and I'm starting to agree with Sami Hyypia that the situation is starting to resemble some sort of bizarre inverse Newcastle, with the board unable to sack an obviously incompetent boss because the fans have taken a shine to the spud-shaped Spaniard that sits on the touchline every week signing useless twats and Fernando Torres.

Anyway, just to let you know I've added a little widget at the bottom of every page's sidebar that will let you know just how much the US Department of Homeland Security wants you to shit your pants at the sight of anyone with a beard. 'Recommended Pant-Shitting Level: Guarded' means that you should keep a lookout for people with beards performing suspicious activities, such as praying, breathing or being foreign, 'Recommended Pant-Shitting Level: Elevated' means you should board up your doors and windows, arm yourself however you can and be prepared to shoot anyone who doesn't read the Daily Mail, and 'Recommended Pant-Shitting Level: High' means BROWN PEOPLE ARE DEFINATELY COMING TO KILL YOUR CHILDREN.

Also, why is the internet radio station I'm listening to persisting in claiming to be 'Hard Rock and Metal' when it's in fact playing Nickelback and Trapt at me on a loop? They are to metal what kittens' piss is to industrial strength hydrochloric acid, and I'm being lied to by the internet. I feel so betrayed. I mean, what is the world coming to?

More later.

Update: As expected, Matt Skelton has lost his bid to win the WBA World Heavyweight Title from Ruslan Chagaev. To any of you who put a bet on him after my tip earlier: That was silly, wasn't it?

Still, I can't say I'm surprised, although he did a lot better than I thought he would. Admittedly that isn't very difficult as I half expected him to get hit once and go down crying like a girl, but I was genuinely impressed that he lasted the distance. So, first Hatton and then Skelton, but I suppose there's Maccaranelli vs. Haye to look forward to - at least Britain can't actually lose that one, unless something heavy falls on the pair of them and Britain is fucked at heavyweight forevermore. In other news, Arsenal beat Fulham 3 - 0 and should have had a few more, King Kev's rediculous return died on it's arse as the Geordies had a goalless draw with Bolton (Are they chanting 'Keegan Out' yet? - Ed), and the only thing that spoilt the day was Cristiano Ronaldo scoring again. Mind you, it was funny seeing him about to burst into tears when he missed a sitter.

He's like a toddler. A toddler that's annoyingly good at football.

Goodnight.

Free Dierdre? Well I Certainly Wouldn't Pay for One

As if we hadn't had enough over the last few days, it looks like we're going to get rained on some more. Terrific, because I for one can't get enough of being woken up by a sodden cat at 5 in the morning mewling at me and wanting to be dried. Honestly, it's getting rediculous. The government needs to step in and stop this cloudy menace before it's too late. Oh well, come July we'll all be moaning on like utter cunts as we all roast to death under our four days of sunshine a year, and they'll instantly roll out a hosepipe ban for everyone south of Fife. Does anyone know where all this water'll be by then, because if this doesn't fill up the bastard reservoirs it'll be a turn-up for the books because the bloody things are all currently about four feet underwater.

The fact we've got the Enviroweenies banging on about how global warming is the cause of this mild winter makes it about seventeen times worse. I'd much rather stand in the rain for eight hours a day than listen to one more minute of their drivel. It's not fucking mild out there, it's freezing, and the fact it isn't snowing is less to do with global warming and more to do with planetary spite. Or something. Frankly I don't care enough about it to comment, but I wish they'd shut up about it, unless they want my carbon footprint planted firmly on their face.

In other news, the BBC seems blissfully unaware of the line between television and reality, reporting on Vera Duckworth meeting a 'tragic end' in the long running ITV soap Coronation Street. You know, because in a world with daily war, famine and widespread disease, the stories that matter, the stories that deserve a place on the front page of the website of arguably the most respected journalistic institution in the world, are the stories about imaginary people on soul-crushing evening television shows snuffing it because the actors just can't be fucked with the tedium anymore. What's going on at the Rovers Return today? Oh, it's Dave Lister shooting smack.

Staying in the north (lines between fantasy and reality aside, I'm pretty sure Coronation Street really is filmed in the north, and if it isn't, fuck you all, it's a good segue and I'm sticking with it), tonight some students nearly died after getting stuck down a hole. A terrible tragedy I'm sure you'll all agree, as the chance to take out nearly a dozen people stupid enough to go down a hole, which - as I'm sure anyone who has ever had a bath or taken a shower will agree - is where water natually flows, in the middle of the worst flooding this country has seen since the last one (which admittedly was some time last year) is surely one that can't be passed up. Especially as they were students. According to North Yorkshire Police, they were all unhurt. Shame.

In other news, officials have said that the British Airways plane which crash-landed at Heathrow yesterday 'failed to respond to requests for more thrust', a problem that I'm sure will resonate with British housewives who frequently suffer from a lack of thrusting from their charges in favour of a wriggle, a muffled apology and a stain on the bedsheets. Although it could be said that if she's in posession of one that requires a crew of 16 to operate she's a very lucky girl. Also, if you've considered joining the Navy, Marines or RAF in the last few years, you're fucked, as the military tries it's hardest to prove it's just as incompetent as the civvies by losing all your personal information. The Ministry of Defence say they are treating the incident "with the utmost seriousness". Which is good to know. Heaven forbid the Ministry of Defence treat anything that requires their attention with anything less than the utmost seriousness. Batallions of soldiers charging through Kabul wearing Bart Simpson underpants and carrying toy guns with little flags that say 'BANG!' on them, perhaps.

In sport, Formula 1 teams continue to spend millions and millions of pounds developing and then millions more pounds throwing parties to show off the new millions and millions of pounds worth of cars they've built, all of which look exactly the same as the last lot, while David Coulthard does his best impression of Dad's Army's Private Frazer by telling us that the authorities' banning of traction control means we're all going to die horribly with brake levers stuck up our arses. Meanwhile, in boxing, 'Bedford Banger' Matt Skelton appears confident on the night before Ruslan Chagaev kills him, in Rugby there's so much I don't understand, and in the football, new Portsmouth signing Lassana Diarra has gotten off to a great start with the fans by announcing that he had a clause put in his contract that allows him to leave if a "really big club" comes in for him. What a self-important tosspot. Sorry, Lassana, you just aren't that good. You couldn't cut it at Chelsea and couldn't get a game ahead of the boy Denilson at Arsenal, and however much a great player he might turn out to be, he ain't that great now, and you, 5 years older, are worse. Good luck getting a game when 'Arry's proper midfield come back from Africa, and don't be too surprised if the Pompey fans, passionate and vocal as they are, don't start chanting your name just yet. Still, if you want a big club that needs central midfielders, you should have got King Kev on the blower, as every bastard and his dog that were dooming Newcastle for the drop last week seems to think he'll have them in the Champion's League by next thursday. Dissent about how that wouldn't work within the rules will be met with chants of "SUPER GEORDIES!" and a bottle of Newcastle Brown to the face.

Finally, there's some more tedious bollocks - four seperate links - about the Geordie Jesus and how he's going to make Alan 'Most Boring Cunt of a Pundit since Mark Lawrenson' Shearer his right hand man (Archangel Alan? - Ed) on the BBC Sport website if you're interested. Oh, it's also got Marcel Fucking Desailly banging on about the African Cup of Nations again. He says that "playing for an African team, you are there for your people". I don't know what you'd know about that, Marcel, seeing as you weren't there for your people because you'd buggered off to play for France, so shut your sanctimonious hole.

Goodnight.

Ding Dong, The Twit is Dead

The sports news pages on both sides of the Atlantic and numerous spots in between have been eulogising chess 'genius' Bobby Fischer, who dropped dead earlier today of kidney failure. The famous grandmaster who defeated the Soviet Unions finest Chess minds is dead, and countless column inches have been dedicated to his achievements and his passing. What is reduced to a throwaway line, or even glossed over entirely, are his ludicrous, hateful political views which he was only too happy to spout whenever interviewed. His belief that he was the victim of an international Jewish conspiracy against him would be laughable were it not for his sincere desire for hundreds of thousands of "dirty, hook-nosed" Jews to be executed, all synagogues to be forcefully closed, and his deeply held and widely spoken denial of Ha-Shoah, the holocaust of the Jews.

So a bigoted idiot who was once quite good at moving little pieces of wood around a board is dead. Good. Ironically, it's only my convictions keeping me from wishing he went slowly and painfully. Good riddance you rediculous anti-semite.

Your Say Thursday: How Do You Get Teen Gangs off the Streets?

With a machine gun. Next!

Anyway, in all seriousness, this week's Discussion for Dickheads is on the topic of gangs of teenage 'hoodies' (it's never been explained to me why the BBC can't just use the term the rest of us use and call the little bastards 'chavs'), and the link to the full topic can be found here.

Without further ado, onto the idiots.

"Why not give youngsters more to do at nights. They don't want to be sitting around with their family do they? Street corners are only what's availible in some areas!"
Gill, Birmingham

Well, Gill, I don't know about you, but I grew up in a small town without so much as a youth centre, and I've never stabbed a pensioner in the face. Having nothing to do is not an excuse to go around hospitalising people, or next Christmas season I'd be heading to Birmingham with a cricket bat. You are rubbish.

"I demand Vengance, I demand Revenge against these evil filth. We will never cure this cancer without an effective deterent. Bring back the death penalty and for a lot less than murder. Kill two birds with one stone; Let the death penalty consist of the convicted criminal be taken to the nearest hospital, rendered unconscious and remove everything from the body that is of any use to the organ doner service. What is left to be disposed of in the hospital heating boiler."
T. Thompson, Newcastle

Dear T. (Can I call you Mr. T?) you are a mentalist. What's more, you are an 18th Century mentalist. "I demand vengeance" indeed. While I'm all for doing something about 'hoodie youths' but the image you've me of yourself is of someone far more dangerous than a twat called Darren in a sky blue baseball cap, you seem the sort of nutter who would go around in velvet dress pants with a sword down them. Also, precisely how much less is 'a lot less'? Death squads stealing children's organs for dropping sweeties? You are a moron.

"Let them drink in pubs"
Ralph, London

Yes Ralph, because the one thing these people need is more alcohol.

"Vote BNP next time. We need them. Canning in schools should be brought back to teach youngsters dicilplin at early age."
david jones, carmarthen

Because, as we know, the solution to youth violence is to set fire to all the brown people. Them thar BNP will clear things right up, and make sure that next time you get your head caved in, it'll be from a sturdy, white, hard-as-oak British youth and not one of those smelly forrins.

"boot camps, floggings, and even better - compulsory IQ tests which if they dont pass, they get sterilised to stop the scum breeding."
Peter Mulholland, Norwich, United Kingdom

Peter Mulholland, meet David Jones, I think you'll get on fine. Eugenics is just fine so long as nobody gets their purse nicked. Honestly, I dislike these hoodies as much as anyone (as I keep saying), but going all Dr. Mengele on 'social undesirables' just somehow doesn't sit well with me.

"Five years in the military, whether we are engaged in conflicts or not. These hoodlums will enter the military as thugs and will leave the military with many useful values! Bring Back the Draft!"
Jules Beej, White Plains, NY, USA

Because they just aren't skilled enough at killing already.

"Stop blaming Society, the parents, alcohol. TV, computer games, Jews, Americans, Thatcher, Martians - oops I nearly forgot the victims - everybody and everything except the perpetrators themselves for a start."
David Walker, North Yorkshire

What? That's certainly a new one on me, "You know who's to blame for youth violence? It's those damn Jews." Speaking as a Jew, please don't try to drag antisemitism into every discussion in a bid to get people to agree with you, it only makes it harder when the real racists pop their heads out.

"a load of rubbish! us teenagers should be able to hang about with our m8s wen we wunt. not all teenagers are the same. adults always sterio type us its well annoying. we aint all bad!!"
boo

You fight that stereotype, boo.

"round them up from the streets if they are drunk put them in a hole in the ground for 2 days,if they do it again make it 4 days and if done a third time leave them to rot"
art padmore, essex

So if I go for a drink and decide to walk home from the pub I risk being pushed into a hastily-dug hole by Art Padmore? Fucking hell, no-one's safe. My advice to you: Drink paint.

"I think that the sentencing needs to be much stronger regardless of age, if a teenager of 15 commits murder then he/she should be punished in the same way as a 45 year old. And with the death penalty debate I think that the murderer should be executed in the same manner the victim was killed. I agree that people over the age of 10 should understand what is right and wrong, unless they are clearly mental. Gangs are a fact of life, tribes, gatherings, raves, but criminal youths should be burned"

George, Cambridge, UK

Oh George, you were doing so well. Why always with the fire, George? Why always with the fire?

So there you go, that was the first Your Say Thursday. Written in EditPad Lite, because Google refuse to fix their shit and make Blogger work with Opera. Oh well, I'm looking into getting a domain soon as I don't trust Google not to wipe my page should I say something too controversial which, as you might have realised if you're a regular reader, could be any day now. Nude midget.

On the topic of controversy, one final thing before I go, what was with the idiots on Question Time tonight claiming "it would be marvellous to have the first woman president, it would be marvellous to have the first black president" - in what way, at all, whatsoever, does the colour of the skin of the President of the United States of America have to do with anything? What about what they keep between their legs? Only the pandering left insist on banging on about how great it is that there might be a black president or a woman president or a one-legged president... how about we let the Americans pick the person who's actually best for the job? I don't care if they're black, white, male, female... whoever stops their lot shooting our lot when they're supposed to be shooting at the other team is a good pick for me, because the only way they could be any worse than this one would be if they started shooting nuns.

Goodnight.

So, About That Blog Then

So then, shite fans, where have all the posts gone?

Well, short of having a bit of a whinge about the state of Newcastle United over the last couple of weeks, I've not been posting much, and I probably owe you a bit of an explanation. The problem with that is I don't really have one, other than I've been absolutely swamped with all sorts of work from all sorts of strange angles, and I'm still likely to be for the next week or so, after that I ought to be back to my regular self. Joy. But with things having eased up a bit today I'm hoping to slowly build up to my former glories (ha) over the next few days, but if things are still a bit intermittent, well, at least you know why. Wish me luck.

Other than that, there's nothing much going on. I'd post my thoughts on King Kev going back to St. James', but I'd find that pretty hard as I don't actually care. Oh, and Lassana Diarra has left Arsenal for Portsmouth because he wasn't playing enough, the same problem he had with Chelsea. It might not have dawned on poor little Lassana, but when 'Arry's players come back from the African Nations, he'll be back on the bench again. If he wants to play week in, week out, he really ought to stop signing for teams that are already overstocked with central midfielders. A club where the devastatingly talented Pedro Mendes is lucky to get a game without half the squad being on a different continent is not a good destination for an average player that wants to leave the minute he gets an afternoon off.

On the subject of whinging footballers, with the club vs. country rows that have erupted across Europe in the period leading up to the African Cup of Nations, former Chelsea defender Marcel Desailly has hit out at FIFA chief Sepp Blatter for wanting the tournament moved for the benefit of European clubs, claiming that it is an issue of respect; that European clubs do not respect African players as much as players from Europe or South America. Right. Would that be more or less respect than Marcel showed for Africa when he opted to play for successful European side France instead of his native Ghana.

Bye for now.

Alan Fucking Shearer Needs to Put Up or Shut Up

Now I know in recent days I've talked more about Newcastle United than a Geordie on a speedball, but let's face it, it's still one of the biggest stories in the sport and talking about England booking flights to Kazakhstan would bore me - and you - to tears, so here it is. Since the initial furore over the Sacking of Sam died down and King 'Arry turned down the chance to put his head on the Gallowgate chopping block, the news has reduced to a trickle - alright, a torrent - of ex players and managers tipping Alan Shearer for the job. I mean, let's face it, every time he watches Newcastle on the telly he sits and tells them where they're going wrong, so why not give him a crack at getting it right?

Now my complaints don't lie in his lack of experience, firstly because it's not like Jose Mourinho was the most experienced man in football when he won every trophy under the sun and the hearts of every casual female football fan in the country (damn you, Jose). Now I'm not saying Shearer is as special as The Special One - the kind of reaction that would produce on Tyneside would have to be measured in the kilotons - but it does go to prove that experience is not always an important factor. Secondly, of course, it's because I'm just having a moan and don't really give a toss who Newcastle appoint as manager, as chances are they'll be out on their ear again this time next year having achieved bugger-all. Sources say Houllier wants it, and let's face it, they're not going to get anyone better, but it seems they're scared to get him on the blower, and the reason for that is Alan Fucking Shearer. Herein lies my problem with Big Al.

The problem with Shearer and the Geordie fans is that they hang on his every word, so when he criticises a manager on Match of the Day, the next week the Toon Army are shouting for their heads, but he doesn't appear to have the bottle to take the job on himself and risk his own neck in front of the baying hordes - probably because he knows that, while he might last a few more months as his air of Geordie divinity wears off under a succession of 3 - 1 losses to Reading, he would eventually go the same way as Allardyce, Roeder and everyone else, his star lessened, his light dimmed, and with nobody listening to his inane analysis anymore, his position at the BBC under threat - maybe they could poach Paul Merson from Sky as a replacement, he seems to talk an equivalent amount of bollocks while going equally nowhere.

The time has come for Shearer to put up or shut up. If Mike Ashley goes for Shearer, he will be taking a gamble but will massively endear himself to the Geordie faithful. If he doesn't, he will go for an experienced manager and, with Shearer not ruling himself out this time, the minute results start to turn sour for the new man, the Toon Army will turn not only on Houllier, Hughes or whoever it might be, but will also turn on the board for having the temerity not to appoint their Tyneside Zeus, and Mike Ashley might want to rethink his policy of sitting in the stands, lest he be pelted with meat pie and gravy. Either way is fine by Shearer, he can take the job and hope for the best, or he can sit in his cosy Match of the Day studio and stick his oar in every time the new man at Newcastle doesn't win by four clear goals, starting the whole cycle over again until he decides he has the stones to get out of his armchair and try the pressure, problems and potential pitfalls of the dugout for real. Until then, sadly, he will continue to play Football Manager with Newcastle every Saturday at 10.15, and be a willing participant in the downfall of the next man who's job it will be to turn the Geordie cause around. And the next. And the next.

Redknapp, Newcastle and Other Bad Decisions

So, the papers are, as usual, sending out mixed signals about what Harry Redknapp is up to regarding the Newcastle job. Most seem to agree that he has indeed turned them down, but they seem confused over whether Newcastle chairman Mike Ashley is giving up on Our 'Arry or whether he's personally flying back from Hong Kong to wave more money in his face. Either way, whatever beer-bellied billionaire Ashley has to offer Harry, he should not take it.

From the point of view of the Newcastle chairman, I can see why he would want 'Arry. He has turned Portsmouth from Championship battlers to European contenders in his two spells at the Pompey helm, has made the kind of inspired deals for unknown players that ex-Magpies boss Sam Allardyce could only dream of - Sol Campbell or Claudio Cacapa? Alan Smith or John Utaka? You decide - and plays the kind of exciting, creative, goal-scoring football that Geordie fans had been screaming out for the entire length of Big Sam's disasterously by-the-numbers play-for-the-clean-sheet reign (which would have worked far better had the team been more capable of achieving those clean sheets, as yesterday's 6 - 0 thumping by Manchester United proves). So I can see why Redknapp is wanted on Tyneside. What I can't see, however, is why he'd want to go.

He has nothing to prove to anyone in the Premier League, as we have seen the effect he has on his teams by the way West Ham fell out of the Premiership the minute they ill-advisedly gave him the boot, and the way he has turned Portsmouth into mid-table Championship makeweights into one of the few teams who look genuinely likely to break the Big 4, if only for a season or two. Nothing he could achieve at Newcastle could raise his standing amongst his peers and his fans, and carries a very real risk of undermining the reputation as a winner that he has built up over his career. If he is tempted by the idea of managing a big club, he needs to remember that Newcastle are only a big club in terms of it's fans. Reputation-wise, they are barely bigger than Portsmouth, who also have a massively dedicated, die-hard fanbase, and in terms of investment, Portsmouth owner Sacha Gaydamak's family billions dwarf Ashley's paltry-looking £1bn, and as for his own wages, if 'Arry was that greedy, then Gaydamak has the deep pockets to, as one paper claims he already has, double his wages to ward off the interests of the Tyneside club. Only an idiot would consider leaving a club on the up, which loves him and is, due to his invaluable input charging headlong on a collision course with the established Premiership elite, to manage a mid-table side where anything less than instant Champions League qualification seems to end in the sack. 'Arry is a manager that could work miracles at Newcastle if he was given time, and could turn the club into something that would end with his statue being erected outside St. James', but he doesn't need to and he wouldn't be able to.

Harry, if you have turned the job down, you've made the right decision and you should continue to do so. Every Portsmouth fan I speak to absolutely adores you, and rightly so. You have nothing to prove by heading 300 miles north to what the papers are cliche'dly calling "football's poisoned chalice" - unless you're really interested in proving just how quickly you can get the boot for doing realistically well. You are 60 years old, and should be concentrating on building a legacy at Portsmouth, something you are halfway to doing already, and cementing your place in their folklore the way you have in West Ham's, not jetting off in a private plane on an ill-advised attempt to resurrect a club which, after all this time, must be considered less a 'sleeping giant' and more the world's biggest coma patient.