Todays problems in brief….
It's the best smokescreen ever and a scapegoat for all the main political parties…blame the foreigners….The fact is there is no problem with immigration. 20 billion put into the British economy in the past 10 years from migrants. Benefit tourism takes up 0.04 % of the budget. The London economy is thriving because of immigration. Migrants do work we don't want to and help balance the economy. Europe may be a problem because it is used to shift about cheap labour. But that's blaming the cause not the symptom. Workers are exploited regardless of where they are from. There is a problem with excessive population growth but that's a different issue.
Corporate tax evasion, wealth tax avoidance, bankers unregulated while the public purse pays for their sins, politicians using their job as a way into city finance while having little regard for who they're supposed to represent, fracking leading to pollution of the water…
Author DissentPosted on November 20, 2014 Categories UncategorizedLeave a comment on Todays problems in brief….
Corporate tax evasion, wealth tax avoidance, bankers unregulated while the public purse pays for their sins, politicians using their job as a way into city finance while having little regard for who they're supposed to represent, fracking leading to pollution of the water supply, the third world being kept in their place because capitalism wouldn't work without it, entire continents being pushed back into slavery, austerity cuts, persecution of the disabled, demonization of the working classes, zero hours contracts, people being worked like battery hens in call centres, no access to education unless you've got money…these are real problems. Either wake up or get in the bastards faces. I look forward to what alternate votes like Green and SNP bring to Westminster next year. That is all. x
Author DissentPosted on November 20, 2014 November 5, 2015 Categories PoliticsTags comedian, free speech, immigration, politics1 Comment on Todays problems in brief….
I was a teenage sexist.
misogynist
Continue reading "I was a teenage sexist."
Author DissentPosted on November 17, 2014 November 5, 2015 Categories comedian, Politics, storyTags comedian, femenism, femenist, misogynist, respect, womenLeave a comment on I was a teenage sexist.
Working Class. Part. 1. The work.
So I did a gig last night that was really badly organised, not my type of audience, was graft from start to finish and didn't pay nearly well enough, but as they say, "beats working for a living." If only you knew…
I am from a working class background. Prior to entering working life as an apprentice printer I was pretty much forced to attend Boys Brigade meetings every Friday evening while my mates were out playing chap door run and setting off fireworks. The reason I was made to do this from about age 8-16 was my mum insisted it would help me find a job. She was actually right. Not everything in the BBs was bad but there were certain things that my then blossoming "problem with authority streak" found pretty hard to stomach. The captain of our squadron of around 60 teenage boys was obsessed with winning a thing called the drill cup. A competition in which BB squadrons from all over Scotland did formation marching to prove how brilliantly potentiated young Nazis they'd make. So marching up and down in formation every week for an hour was standard. Yee fucking Ha! It wasn't so much this I had the problem with but the lengths this insane BB captain was willing to go to win the bloody thing. There was a very fat lad in our group who had a tendency to waddle when marching that didn't meet the standards required of our glorious Capitan. So every week he was made to sit on his own at the side while the rest of us marched for an hour. Dreadful I know. You can imagine the humiliation the poor guy went through. Had he went nuts with a shotgun one week I would've been totally on his side. I heard later in life that the Capitan who subjected this young man to this weekly torture went on to have a massive nervous breakdown. I was delighted.
So I reach 16. Much to my chagrin my dreams of being a drama student are now thoroughly suppressed and the path of hard realities of my working class destiny have been well and truly drummed into my skull. You can romanticise all you like about Billy Elliot but had he grown up in my town someone would have broken his fucking legs.
I got an apprenticeship as a printer. Not a bad achievement as a month before the careers advice officer at school had been determined to get me on a YTS (Youth Training Scheme) These were essentially forced labour for dole money with no prospects of employment at the end. Myself and my fellow factory fodder were so amazed at said careers chap enthusiasm for these schemes that we were convinced the government were paying him a small bonus for every teenage scalp claimed.
Printing isn't a bad job but I was in a very specialised line of it. Essentially this meant I'd be highly but very specifically trained and finding similar work elsewhere would've meant leaving the country. Essentially my fate was to spend the next 50 years in the same factory. Fuck that!
Day one at work was interesting. The first man I was introduced to (for to me that is what they were as I was a boy) grabbed me bent me over a table and pretended to bum me. Awesome I thought…this is going to be just like school. Also much to my amazement I discovered that all apprentices taken on over the past five years had been in the Boys Brigade. Which I now realise was kind of like a junior Masons.
I wasn't a bad printer and prided myself in my high level of output. Factory work like anywhere is littered with bad politics but that suited my ever-growing problem with authority. Eventually this was put to a decent cause. There's a lot of bad chemicals associated with that job. Above all our printing presses was a ventilation system for removing the cancerous ozone that the ink drying system produced. Ozone smells like see air. If you can smell it at work this is a bad thing. Our particular ventilation system had been built not by experts in this area but by the factory engineers who were employed mainly for general repair. Bit's of it were genuinely held together by Sellotape. Needless to say the start of everyday at my work smelled like a day trip to Blackpool.
So after much argument, harassing my union rep and coughing fits the management finally rescinded their cancer master plan and proper ventilation engineers were brought in. They were horrified at what they saw.
So the day comes to start installing this life saving equipment. What happened next may leave you stunned at our managements general disregard for human life and safety. Then again if you worked in a factory in the 80s…probably not.
To install the ventilation a scaffolding had to be built right over my printing press. This meant men were to work directly above a large piece of moving machinery. As the guys were setting up I reassured the workmen the machine would be stopped while they worked above it. That's when a spotted a certain disconcerted look come on their faces. "Actually mate we've had to reassure your boss we're willing to work above the press while it runs. " One of them tells me. "Are you fucking mad." Or something along those lines I replied. Eventually I find out that their boss has reassured our boss it's ok to work like this and it's on that condition their contract has been secured. Please understand if they or anything should have come off that scaffold into about 4 tons of moving bits the results would have been deadly.
"Not a problem I reassure them." And once they were up on the scaffold I nonchalantly dropped a spanner into a bit of the press where not too much damage would be done. Back this up with a story about how it had fallen off the scaffold and disaster was subversively averted.
Knowing what I now know about life for working folks nothing about this story amazes me. But I am happy in the knowledge that some of the guys I used to know still work there. I hope they appreciate that clean air.
PS Oh…and yes we did win the drill cup.
Author DissentPosted on November 9, 2014 November 5, 2015 Categories comedian, storyTags class, comedian, factory life, stand up comedy, Working classLeave a comment on Working Class. Part. 1. The work.
Sacred to Profane (The little book of not calm whatsoever.)
"I finished a show last night and when I got to the train station I saw a blind man listening to some classical music on his phone. He didn't have headphones, he was just holding the phone close to his ear. Despite this he was absolutely rapt. The music was obviously moving him deeply. The sight of this was both uplifting and saddening in a single moment."
The above statement is absolutely true. I include it because as a newcomer to the blogosphere I've noticed there are many people writing beautifully uplifting pieces of prose. Much as I appreciate this on reading such stuff it reminded me that being a comedian is a bit like being a parrot with two heads. If we're doing our job well one head tweets little bon mots of life affirming philosophy while the other responds with a few squawks of profanity. So I thought I'd do it with a blog.
He who hesitates is lost. CATO…MEANING…..I'll never play Modern Warfare online ever again.
A desire arises in the mind. It is satisfied immediately until another comes. In the interval which separates two desires a perfect calm reigns in the mind. It is at this moment freed from all thoughts of love or hate. SWAMI SIVUNANDA….MEANING…. This is how everyone feels post masturbation.
Leave it to others to be perfect, to be wonderful. Be content with what you are. you'll be much more relaxed as a result. ANON…MEANING…. Christ, this might as well be on a poster in McDonalds. Keep thinking like this. We need more fat people.
4. After a storm comes calm. MATHEW HENRY…. MEANING ….. Bollocks. Try saying that to the victims of hurricane Katrina. Or those folks who's property is on a flood plane. People who's only comfort is there are nutters out there blaming such catastrophe on God punishing them because either A. They're black…or…B. Have gay friends.
5. Concentrate on silence. When it comes, dwell on what that sounds like. Then strive to take that quiet with you wherever you go. ANON….MEANING… Or you can just pop in your I-pod ear plugs. Blast some ACDC and give a clear signal to homeless people you want nothing to do with them
Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end. Then stop. LEWIS CARROLL….MEANING…. Birth, school, work, death. That 's it. Enjoy the credit card bills prole
Believe those who are seeking the truth. Doubt those who find it. ANON….MEANING… Crucify Rupert Murdoch.
Even a clock that does not work is right twice a day. POLISH PROVERB… MEANING. .. Look just fix my bloody roof. You lot you come over here. I though you were meant to be hard workers.
Wherever you go you are there. KEITH CACERTA…MEANING…. You've never had your sat nav. go mental because the council have bolloxed up Sheffields one way ring road.
If your bowels move, one is happy. If they do not move one is unhappy. That is all there is to it. LIN YUTANG….MEANING…. Err…actually this guy's got it pretty much bang on.
Author DissentPosted on November 6, 2014 November 5, 2015 Categories comedian, entertainment, satireTags comedian, comedy, philosophy, satire, stand up comedy, the little book of calmLeave a comment on Sacred to Profane (The little book of not calm whatsoever.)
U2….the Bond villian of bands.
When they were first coming to prominence I hated them. All this nonsense of "There's been a lot of talk about this next song. This is not a rebel song. This is Sunday Bloody Sunday" Tosser! That's what me and a whole world of other indie kids thought. If you'd said it was a rebel song I might be interested.
U2 in the 80s were perhaps the most loved band in the world. In recent times they've managed to reverse that. And me. I've got it all back to front…like them when hated, hated them when loved. Saying that it's never really been trendy to like U2.
They just kind of wore me down, the bastards wouldn't go away would they? Pride (In the Name of Love) came next and me and a whole world of other indie kids quietly said to ourselves actually that one's quite good. I remember finding a copy of the 12 inch among one of my most ardent punk mates. He just went, "Well you've got to give them that one. That one is a beauty." Fair play I thought. But you're still a tosser…and the mullet is getting worse.
The first time I read about The Joshua Tree was in the NME at uni where I was doing my printing City and Guilds. The phrase that sticks in my mind is "they've finally released the album we all thought they might be capable of" 5 stars.
I certainly wasn't convinced by the opening single With or Without You. However that third single Where the Streets Have No Name…Ah now wait a minute…that sounds like one of the best songs ever recorded. A Space Oddity or Mr Blue Sky for the 80s…but fuck em. They were really tedious at Live Aid. And you still need to fix that mullet…oh hang on he's grown it out.
Next comes Angel of Harlem, "Edge play the blues" and let's face it a stunning rendition of Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For with a full blown gospel choir. At around this time I win ten grand on the pools. Bugger it, I think I'll get The Joshua Tree and Rattle and Hum…I've got a few grand to spare. I can maybe allow myself the odd frivolity.
Move on a year or so… I love these albums. There's a lot on their other albums I like too.
So Achtung Baby is their first release under me now having become a "proper" fan. It's a masterpiece. The bastards, I'm in too deep now. I go to see them live on that tour. It's phenomenal and they seem to be taking the piss out of themselves and any over sincere fans that might be left.
More experimental albums follow. Mixed but good. In 2000 they release another belter in the shape of All that You Can't Leave Behind.
Next album treading water, album after that dull as dishwater.
Get up the a month back to find their latest thing has been snuck under my pillow by the U2 fairy. I can only feel a tad sorry for the other half a billion folk probably not too happy about the fact the U2 fairy has indiscriminately been invading their personal space. If that had been Coldplay I would have been similarly distressed. It was like something a Bond villain would do. Surreptitiously sneaking their agenda into your cyberspace. How corporate are these guys going to get?
Finally sit down to properly listen to the album on me I-pod. The second half produced by Danger Mouse is excellent…and there's stuff in the first half that's getting under my skin. That makes it a good U2 album (in my own personal U2 journey)
Tossers. Even as a fan I could have lived with it being all over. They're like Coke. You either drink it or you don't.
Mind you…You should grow the mullet back. Might make you retro chic. Or is that what they're aiming for? We'll never know. It is healthy though that even their own drummer realises Bono is a tosser. But a tosser that makes great music. Ah well….here's to the next bombastic ten years….
I also like Simple Minds. That would take way to long a post to justify.
Author DissentPosted on November 3, 2014 November 5, 2015 Categories comedian, Politics, U2Tags comedian, politics1 Comment on U2….the Bond villian of bands.
Poem…The Hurly Burly Hymn Book O The Presbytarian Minister.
I wrote this for a character I do now and again called Rubber Burns poet, sadomasochist and Scottish nationalist. I spotted there was a poetry page following me on here so I thought I'd pop it up. It's all about the importance of good song lyrics…..
The Hurly Burly Hymn Book O the Presbyterian Minister.
There was a minister fair radical of the Presbyterian kirk
Whose services had them Voguing in the isles, for tradition he did shirk
He realised to hold short attention spans of the Twitter generation
He should let them sing modern top 40 hits for spiritual foundation
For old classics like How Great Thou Art and go on for far too long
So let's all sing the sentiments of Bob Marley's more modern songs
The hurly burly hymn book o the Presbyterian minister caused a spiritual sensation
He was seen as the greatest moderniser since the Scottish reformation
Although the lyrics o the Dead Kennedys to some might seem quite shocking
A full Kirk belting punk rock tunes sets your baptism a rocking
In his church non-sectarian you couldn't sing The Sash
For he was a man of the peoples plight who much preferred The Clash
The Assembly tried to make him stick to the tune of Abide With Me
But our minister saw the spiritual worth of Paul McCartney's Let It Be
Although Lennon is more popular among the lefty brethren
The kirk elders didn't like the words of "Imagine there's no Heaven"
O the hurly burly hymn book o the Presbyterian minister caused a spiritual sensation
His congregation were among the happiest of flocks
Because there are great lyricists in modern rock and pop
Eventually it came to pass his methods spread far and wide
Catholics, Muslims and Mormons all pogoed by his side
It was only Bono of the group U2 that got our minister down
Because there just isn't room for two messiahs in one spiritual town
Bombastic worthy do-gooders we all as one deride
For U2 really lost their way after the release of Pride
So when you're dancing at a do pay heed to lyrical words
There's more than just funky beats to Public Enemy and The Byrds
Author DissentPosted on November 2, 2014 November 5, 2015 Categories comedian, poem, poetryTags comedy, lyrics, Poem, poetry1 Comment on Poem…The Hurly Burly Hymn Book O The Presbytarian Minister.