Friday, 12 July 2019

Boris, Darroch, Hunt, Trump

About Boris Johnson not standing up for Sir Kim Darroch, here's my take:

There was scant little Boris could do. Tragic as it is, there was no other option for Sir Darroch other than to resign. The leak created bad blood between the POTUS and our ambassador. Love or hate Trump, he IS the POTUS. Sir Darroch did the right and honourable thing. In my eyes he remains a diplomat to the core. I have always admired him, and now even more so.

The United States of America, despite its politics and current leadership, was, is, and always will be our greatest and strongest ally. Realpolitik is a thing. Lord Darroch gets it better than anyone I know.

Jermey Hunt's efforts at trying to corner Boris on this, in the way he did was a cheap shot, something he could afford to do, because Hunt has nothing to lose. He could give the finger or moon on national television wearing tassels on his nipples, and it wouldn't make a jot of a difference to his campaign for leadership, or Johnson's for that matter. Hunt is what you get if you put Theresa May, Rory Stewart, and Kenneth Clark in a blender. Everyone knows that.

As for Andrew Neil, he was at his journalistic best - he did what he must, what all journalists must. He is wasted on the BBC.

The real villian is the one who leaked confidential memos between an esteemed officer of the realm and his leader. The real lapse is the fact that 'eyes only' should have meant 'eyes only' and it didn't. Something the only person who has come to terms with it is Sir Kim Darroch.

Tell me I'm wrong in my assessment. More importantly, tell me why.

Sunday, 30 June 2019

Glastonbury 2019

The upside of the collective orgasm over the guttural utterings of a half-naked man with a 12-word vocabulary at Glastonbury is that stab vests are now fashionable and therefore, in high demand. This will lead to competition and the lowering of prices as a result. Capitalism, if you will.

Stab vests are essential wear in London, thanks to its much celebrated mayor, and hey, they're now cool as well.

This will save lives -  ironically not something that affects those that forked out 250 quid online from the comfort of their gated cul-de-sacs in the commuter suburbs in leafy outer London for the privilege of entry beyond a wall that ironically, bore slogans like "I don't see any borders, do you?" and a £3,000 yurt they had their driver set up.

A pity this came a bit too late for the pregnant lady in Croydon and the hapless guy in east London, whose brutal deaths at around the same time, were drowned out in the virtue signalling jizz of the trivial culture, preoccupied with some equivalent of the feelies, the orgy-porgy and the centrifugal bumblepuppy.

Hi-vis vests are so last month and passè. Stab vests are where it's at. Primark, are you listening?

Thursday, 20 June 2019

Eye Contact

Among the sea of eyes, I sense yours linger
And yet they avert when met with mine
A flicker of smile, a lock caressed away
Replaced by a cloud of feigned indifference
Was that flush imagined, in false light?
Did not the heart thump, the follicles strain
In a constitution shattering coup de foudre?
I blink in a splash of cold water on my face
And emerge straightening my tie
Hoping I never see you again.

Khyberman - 17 June 2019

Bhindi. Okra. Lady's Finger.

Serves 4

1 kg chopped Okra
1 tin chopped tomtoes
4 cloves chopped garlic
4 finely chopped onions
2 whole green chillies
Finely diced ginger
2 whole black cardamoms
5 cloves
A pinch of whole cumin
A pinch of asafoetida (hing)
A pinch of red chilli powder
A teaspoon of amchur powder
A pinch of ground turmeric
A handful of chopped fresh coriander
Salt to taste
2 tablespoons of vegetable oil


Fry up the onions and whole spices on high heat stirring all the while, till the onions wilt and brown a bit.

Keep the heat high, and add everything else. Keep stirring till you get an even pastey mix.

Keeping the heat high, and chuck in the okra (Bhindi), stirring all the while for about 10 minutes.

Turn down the heat to very low, cover. Leave for 5 minutes.

Stir. Leave to cook for another 5 minutes. If it's sticking to the bottom, add a tablespoon of water and keep stirring.

Turn the heat on full whack and stir for 5 minutes.

Turn the heat off.

Serve with chappati and natural yoghurt.

Electile Dysfunction

Well, Conservatives and Labour, do you now know what electile dysfunction feels like?

Your undoing is your own doing. Raise your.. erm game, or be de-friend-zoned forever. Learn that no does not mean yes, and yes usually means harder.

Are either of you hard enough?

Tuesday, 2 April 2019

Being Naked Proves Nothing

The House of Commons, the mother parliaments, was once the pinnacle of my respect for any democratic institution in the whole wide world.

Instead, the world is laughing at invertebrates with saggy butt-cheeks and cuckolded, shrivelled penises. Forget the stiff upper lip. Forget fortitude and stoicism in the face of adversity. Nothing about you is stiff any more.

We voted 650 of you in to be the face of our country, to be the pride and joy that is this blessed land, to show the world how it's done. To show strength, dignity and honour. To prove that a man/woman is as good as his/her word. Turns out, none of you are.

My heart is broken. 💔

Thursday, 21 March 2019

Burra Na Maano, Holi Hai!

I love Holi. I love what it represents. I love the colours. I enjoy the festivities and smiley faces and people wearing white clothes to accentuate the colours they're doused with. I love the bonfire. I revel in the sentiment.

It was a big thing back in my day. But, Holi tended to be nothing but a gropefest. Growing up in an all boys boarding school in Shimla, we learned respect and restraint, it was all pretty tame and civil, us Cottonians went over to the all-girls Chelsea or CJM, and physical contact was limited to rubbing coloured powder on the face.

Years later, after leaving school, I joined a Holi Horde back home in Punjab. They rented a Swaraj Mazda, and went around town looking for girls to grope and fondle. I was appalled at how terrible it was for girls. Needless to say, I did not join in ever again.

Going back to the same song, the lyricist says the unsaid:
'Twas ever thus. Sadly.

Happy Holi, or Hola Mohalla, everýone.

Friday, 15 March 2019

Brenton Tarrant, the Jihadi.

Right, I've had a massively busy day today, having started it earlier than usual, totally sleep-deprived and groggy.

While I was not looking, my Twitter-feed has gone completely off the scale, and my Facebook feed is filled with anguish, pain, remorse, and scarily in some instances, jubilance.

And yes, I've been Whatsapped the video of the camera on that Aussie dickhead's head. I cried when watching it. Needless to say, I've deleted it from my phone, and messaged the person who sent it to me not to propagate it any further. Nothing about sharing footage of this macabre event is cool.

I've been itching to say something about the tragedy that has gone down in Hobbiton. New Zealand is the last place on earth I believed, that would harbour such sentiment.

Racists exist everywhere. Many people think and strongly believe, that they are the true inheritors and enforcers of what is God's will. A God they have never seen and never met.

All Muslims are not blow-yourself-up Jihadies. All Christians are not shoot-em-up-crusaders. All BJP voters are not Hindutva-fanatics. All Sikhs are not Khalistani mindjobs.

My best friend, my chaddi-buddy (langotiya yaar) is a Muslim. His wife is a Hindu. Their kids are a joy to behold. My friends come from all walks of life, of varying beliefs, and the reason they are my friends is essentially the content of their character, not the colour of their skin or the deity they worship. I've never given two hoots about any deity or imaginary clock-maker, but if it gives people a focus to set their moral compass on, so be it. Be nice, get nice. Simples.

Having said that, from this day forth, many Muslims in the West, and in Australia & New Zealand will not go to their mosque for fear of idiots like Brenton Tarrant. Come to think of it, how safe are Hindus in their temples, or Sikhs in their Gurudwaras, or Jews in their Synagogues, in the face of such hatred?

Of course there have been many expressed opinions that people like Brenton Tarrant cannot exist in a vacuum. There has to be a political atmosphere or social cushion that allows hate like this to ferment. This may be one of the truths, but I don't think this is THE truth. I won't be blaming Modi, or Trump, or Candace Owens for this. I'll be blaming Brenton Tarrant.

This is what Brenton Tarrant did: He killed people that did not agree with his mindset. He killed women and children, and a lot of men. He killed people that were not combatants in an arena of war. He is the very thing he thinks he is opposing.

Brenton Tarrant is a Jihadist. Brenton Tarrant is a terrorist. Brenton Tarrant needs to be put away, forever.

Thursday, 14 March 2019

Negotiation 101 - The first rule

Never take 'No Deal' off the table. Florists, corner-shops, independent butchers, little cafès and pound-shop retailers know this. It's a tragedy that parliamentarians on £80,000-a-year, plus benefits, don't, or pretend not to.

It is oft said that Britain's exit is equivalent to 19 countries leaving EU at same time. Thing is, if our politicians had the cojones to boldly go forth, 19 other countries would do exactly the same thing - they are looking to us. The EU knows this. Sadly, we have a parliament filled with castrated cuckolds. Unfortunately, the EU knows this too.

Cromwell springs to mind, you know the guy whose statue you walk past on your way to work.

"Ye sordid prostitutes! Have you not defiled this Sacred Place, and turned the Lord's Temple into a Den of Thieves by your immoral Principals and wicked Practices?

You, deputed here by the People, to get Grievances redressed, are become the greatest Grievance.

The Country therefore calls upon me to cleanse the Augean Stable, by putting a final period to your Iniquitous Proceedings in this House, and which by God's Help, and the strength He has given Me, I now come to do.

I command ye, therefore, upon the Peril of your Lives, to depart immediately out of this Place.

In the name of God, Go! Get out! Make haste ye Venal Slaves, begone!"

We need a new class of politician.

Monday, 11 March 2019

The Khyberman Kebab Platter

If you want this, here's how it's done:

1. Lamb: Get VERY lean Lamb mince. Grind up some ginger and garlic, knead into lamb. Add red chilli powder, garam masala, salt, a little amchur powder, and plenty of tandoori masala. Kneed again until thoroughly mixed.

2. Chicken Tikka: Get your local butcher to cut up boneless chicken thigh into one-inch-sized cubes, or do it yourself if you're good with a knife. Add red chilli powder, garam masala, salt, a little amchur powder, ground ginger and garlic, and fresh lemon juice - one lemon for every 500g of chicken, and smother with plenty of tandoori masala.

3. Salmon: The tail works best. Chop up into one-inch cubes, add sea-salt and black pepper, sprinkle a little tandoori masala. Rub it all in with a little olive oil and a dash of lime.

Let all of this marinate for about two hours.

Get bamboo skewers that are longer than the width of your baking tray, soak them in water for about 15-20 minutes, and load the goodies on, using two skewers a centimetre apart, so you can turn the stuff.

Fire up your oven to about 250°C (just under 500°F - Gas mark 9), Fill your baking tray with hot boiling water. Slice up half a lemon and chuck it into the water in the baking tray. Squeeze the rest of the lemon into the water, chop up the squeezed lemon into little pieces and chuck that into the water as well. Add thinly sliced ginger to the water - 4 or 5 slices will do. Add a few cloves into the water.

Place the skewers onto your baking tray (see order below) - making sure nothing touches the water. If it does, you need a deeper baking tray.

First load the lamb. Give it ten minutes. Then load the chicken, give it 10 minutes, then load the fish, giving it 10 minutes. Keep the heat steady at 250°(just under 500°F - Gas mark 9). Check every now and then, and turn them over as soon as you see browning and sizzling.

By the end, the lamb will have baked for 30 minutes, the chicken for 20 minutes and the fish for 10 minutes.

Extract, and remove from skewers while still hot. Serve with any sauces you like, garnish with chopped coriander and sprinkle on some chat masala and fresh lime.

Optional: The water in the baking tray is now a heady, fragrant,yummy and nutritious mix of lemon, ginger, cloves, and all the fat rendered off the meat, chicken and fish. Crush up the now totally wilted and soft ginger and lemons with a fork and serve in a little bowl to be poured onto your kebabs for a bit of a lemony sting and flavour.

Post pictures on Instagram and tag me in them or @ me on Twitter

I'll be issuing points. 

Colour Me Bad - Part 2

Brown people are people with brown skin. Black people are people with black or very dark skin. White people are people with white or pale skin. Gingers are people with gingery-red hair. Tall people are people that are, well, tall. Same applies to short people. Fat people are people that are visibly obese. Chinks, when referring to those of Chinese/Japanese/Vietnamese/East India are people that have narrow, beautifully crafted doe eyes.

It really is that simple. If you're reading too much into a description of you based on your appearance, the problem is yours. While some see it as a racial epithet, I see it as a badge of honour.

I'm brown. I wear a turban. I'm uber-cool with that. I'll still be brown if referring to or describing me by the colour of my skin is outlawed. I dread that day, and I fear that day is upon us.

Don't fight the narrative. BE the narrative.

Sunday, 10 March 2019

Colour Me Bad

I am a person of colour. I'm like, you know, coloured. I'm dark brown after a nice day in Bournemouth, an average brown on a sunny week in London, and a wheatish-ochre on most days. I really couldn't give a monkey's about whatever skin-tone descriptor is in fashion with the woke-folk.

The colour of my skin has nothing to do with the content of my character. The forever shifting of what is or isn't 'acceptable' in describing someone's 'funny tinge' is a disturbing trend. You do yourself no favours. That is where the content of your character falls to shambles.

Stop it.

I could come up with dozens of reasons why I'd like to see the back of Amber Rudd. This is not one of them.

I could come up with dozens of reasons why I'd like to see the back of Diane Abbott. This is one of the main ones.

Thursday, 7 March 2019

God Bless America

The yappy Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez of the Green New Deal admits on national television that she uses tons of plastic bags from the grocery store and that she throws them all away. Her reason? Lack of recycling facilities.

Why doesn't she reuse the plastic bags or bring her own reusable bags?

I tend not to delve into the warped, psychedelic world of American politics but the double standards of politicians is pretty much the same everywhere. Like socialists who publicly denounce private education, while sending their own children to the very schools they froth at the mouth against. But I digress. Back to Ocasio-Cortez, the one without a cortex...

I have 4 hessian bags I bought sometime in 2003-2004. They have stayed with me for three house moves since then. One lies in my car and three at home. Save the occasional shopping I do on impluse, I almost always use them for my bi-weekly shop, they're still as good as new. The plastic ones I get, after grudgingly paying 5p (7¢) end up being reused until they fall apart. That's when I chuck them.

I tend to avoid supermarkets as much as possible and buy produce from local shops, which generally have a shorter shelf life. This means I shop twice a week and do not buy more than I need. It also means that all the local shopkeepers know me and my family well, and always greet me with a smile and give me excellent service. Occasionally, they throw in a little freebie. I like to believe I contribute to the prosperity of my neighbourhood.

Bottom line is, if you won't support your local community shops with your custom, if you won't eliminate or minimise your waste for the sake of your convienience, and expect the government to clean up after you, you're doing life wrong.

You table a plan to save the world in your own hackneyed way, and then you admit to being an irresponsible throw-away culture child. Not a good look.

When you discard three layers of heat-sealed shrink wrap and a plastic bag because you bought a fillet of fish, the folks from your local authority WILL clean it up. They will use vehicles, machines, and an army of drivers, cleaning staff and logistics managers to take out the trash you did not need to generate.

And guess who pays for all this?

The little people. The cleaners, the nurses, the corner shop owners, the teachers, the sales assistants, the janitors, the taxi drivers, the warehouse workers, the mechanics, the builders, the policemen, and yes the guys who make the big bucks.

That horse you're on is a tad high. Now I'm no Trump fan, but stupid begets stupid. Trump exists because the likes of you exist. You made Trump. The balance in the Force, if you will.

The Donald is probably the 'reset to factory settings' button America desperately needs to eliminate the virus the Left has morphed into. He's the unpleasant medicine America has to swallow to rid itself of a greater malaise the Left is dragging all Western democracies into. He shoots from the hip, but then so do you. Neither of you are good shots by any stretch of the imagination.

For every gaffe PrezT makes, someone marches down the street, their face smothered in menstrual fluids, screaming that MAGA caps are frightening to even look at, while wearing a styrofoam replica of bleeding gentitalia on their head.

Who the hell is this helping?

Not you. Not America. Not me. Not anyone, anywhere in the world.

Friday, 1 March 2019

Did you just call me 'Sir'?

Okay, so this happened yesterday:

I walked into the little boy's room in a large public library for a tinkle.

Propped up against a urinal, was a person with one hand on the wall for support due to obvious drunkenness, peeing away. This is smack bang in the middle of the day.

This person was wearing sheer stockings, high heels, a black tweed miniskirt, a light blue blouse, topped by what was obviously a wig.

And more makeup I have seen on anyone in my entire life.

I finished first, despite having arrived much later, and proceeded to the sink to wash my hands, as you do. This person joins me at the sink.

"You awright?"

"Yes, thank you. And yourself?"

"I'm pissed."

"Lucky you! Haha!"

And then, I left, saying, "Have a good day, Sir!"

This person approaches me a few minutes later, after having checked three floors of the library to find me, and says, "Did you just call me 'Sir'?

I reply, "I might have, I don't know. Is there a problem?"

The answer, "If you don't know there is, then I can't help you." And this person leaves in a huff swearing along the way. There are some 15-20 people at the library now, staring at a red-faced me, as if I'd done something to this person visibly bigger and stronger than me - and I'm a big guy.

I have no idea what line I transgressed or what I did wrong. Why assuming someone peeing standing up in a men's urinal, in a men's toilet, being addressed as 'Sir' would be out of the ordinary?

I use 'Sir' and 'Ma'am' everywhere - at KFC, Sainsubury's, the local butchers. I was brought up with manners.

Now that I've calmed down a bit, and reflected on this episode, I've come to the following conclusion:

Regardless of what it is you want to be called, there is no way I can tell. If you're going to be obnoxious about it, it's not my fault, it's yours.

Whatever you identify as, just remember, at one end of the perineum is a D***, complete with B******s and all, or a C***. At the other is an A-hole.

You seemed to be A, B, C, and D, all at the same time.

You can't even piss in peace these days.

Why does everything happen to me?

Dear Mr Modi

Dear Mr. Modi

Not withstanding many of the reasons the Pakistani Prime Minister Imran Khan allowed the release of a POW, how about we take this at face value?

I refuse to believe Imran Khan is an Islamist, a pathan supremacist, or a vehicle of any kind of misguided Islamic jihad. I do know that being a politician in Pakistan is a much tougher gig than it is in India, given the Ulèma-esque Zia-ul-Haq style rhetoric that has always dominated the completely lawless politics of Pakistan. Just like many parts of rabid, fake Hindutva-infected, Goonda-Raj dominated India.

Imran Khan is one of the good guys. He is, of course, surrounded by people of a coarse visceral mindset, which unfortunately forms the bulk of the easily-led voting public. Just like in India.

He has an uphill task of modernising his nation's polity. I am sure you know this.

India crossed that narrow bridge a long time ago. Or so I thought. The Talibanisation of Dharma worries me deeply. I sincerely hope it worries you too; worries you enough to lead the disparate conglomerate nation that is India into the modern world. Now is not the time to hark back to a world that, that despite our golden-glossed high school history books, never was. War is an outdated concept. Only barbarians settle over fisticuffs. We are not the Dothraki. I like to think we have evolved. The India I know has, for sure.

Imran Khan is hostage to a twisted ideology - a role he is expected to play, and yet he, at the risk of violent derision and possible threats to his life, has extended an olive branch. You should grab it.

Help him. Pakistan may be a failed state, a horrible country, a hotbed of extremism, an incubator of terrorist outfits, and opposed to everything India is.

But your everyday Pakistanis are nothing like that. They were our brothers once. That we live separate lives today doesn't change the fact that they still are our kin.

There are no easy answers, of course.

Pakistan's porous borders, the strong influence of Islamist ideology, widespread racial bigotry, the deeply ingrained hatred towards the 'other' and sectarian conflicts, the blantantly overt persecution of minorities, the utter lack of the rule of law, and outdated blasphemy laws are big challenges Imran Khan faces.

Truth be told, India faces the same set of problems.

India has the military capability of rendering all of Pakistan into rubble in three days. They know it, we know it, the whole world knows it. We don't need to reiterate it by killing millions. The repercussions of our faux machismo since 1947 has already cost both sides so much, and continues to reverberate to this day. Enough is enough.

We invented ahimsa. Here is our chance to revere it. We don't need to reinforce it by killing anyone, or sacrificing any of our own.

Besides, I have first hand knowledge of the plight of families who have lost loved ones in war, in service of their country. Their stories will make any politician with a soul to resign, go home and slash their wrists.

You have an opportunity here. Let's see some mettle. You have it in you to be a bigger man.

Embrace the prodigal son. History will remember.

Monday, 25 February 2019

Low Hanging Fruit.


I'm a tad disturbed by a video I've seen flooding my SocMed timelines.

The video shows a black, elderly (probably in his 60s or maybe even more) Christian preacher being arrested, and a copy of the Bible he was holding grabbed from his hands just before being handcuffed and arrested.

His words, "Don't take my Bible away. Don't take my Bible away." The reply? "You should have thought about that before being racist."

Racist? When did publicly preaching religion become a racist act? What were they thinking? I mean, forget taking serrated ninja knives off of drugged-up 12-year-olds, let's go for OAPs brandishing Bibles. 

Thing is, I am not, by any stretch of the imagination, religious. I am pretty ambivalent about all belief systems, as long as they don't infringe on my rights as a human being of rational thought. This man was not infringing a single one of my rights or freedoms. I could choose to listen to him, or ignore him. 

I grew up in a CoE boarding school, I know the Bible back to front - more than most practising Christians. There was nothing new he could tell me. I have lived the bulk of my life in an Islamic country, and a fair bit of it in a country with a prominent Hindutva narrative. Equality HAS to mean equal treatment. I know this better than most. Sikhism is the faith I was born into & taught all my life. I identify as a Sikh. Very proudly, I might add. I see all perspectives far clearly than most. If you choose to debate me on this, bring a box of tissues and smelling salts. I will savage you, I promise.

Having said that, if I were to pin my moral values to any kind of belief system, it would be Sikhism. I believe the the Sikh faith in its purity and intent is a great blueprint for mankind. Sikhism tells it outright. Sikhism is a confluence of thought, deeply rooted in Dharma. What Sikhism does say outright, the vastly misunderstood concept of Dharma does allegorically, leading, of course, to many mutations and bigoted interpretations. Dharma is mostly confused with Hinduism. It is nothing of the sort. Dharma is the core, the root, the essence of all theology - it's expansiveness is proof of why we must love, why we must tolerate, why we must educate. Why we must coalesce. And why it cannot be forced.

What does this have to do with the humiliating public arrest of a frail and elderly gentleman in the streets of London? Well - everything.

If you have a message about salvation, kindness, love, compassion - I have all the time in the world for you. The minute you start inflicting your superficial sense of values on me, the moment you compel me to cower to you chosen deity, is the moment you alienate me. This man was doing nothing of the sort. From all the evidence I have, this man was doing Baba Nanak's work, in his own way. While that may have been the man's intent or message, he posed no threat to me. Or anyone.

If there is evidence to the contrary, I will gladly rescind this post.

The said video has gone viral all over the world, but I have yet to see a statement from the police with ANY proof of how and why this man was a threat, why a 60+ year old man needed to be shackled in chains, and the book he regards as holy gospel snatched away from his hands in such a callous a manner, with hands that hadn't probably hadn't been washed.

In the video, I see not a jot of respect or restraint by officers who should know better. While I don't care about what many would consider sacrilege - I would question the double standard here.

I ask a simple question: Would ANY other religious text be handled in that way? Would you show the same disrespect to the Koran or the Guru Granth Sahib or the Bhagvad Gita? 

And I answer - NO you would not.

If anything, THAT is discrimination. Discrimination is due to fear, fear leads hatred, hatred leads to suffering. That is the path to the dark side.

We are policed by consent when I last checked. No one asked for Stromtroopers.

Thursday, 14 February 2019

Happy Valentines Day!

Innuendo in the Year of the Pig. This was bound to happen. 

This is no ordinary Love Sausage; this is an M&S Love Sausage. 

That's my V-Day enticement menu sorted.

Freedom Of Speech

It's a lamentable fact that today, universities merely exist to protect young people from microaggressions, not to expose them to radical new ideas or entrenched ideas borne of centuries of social evolution.

Are new ideas pointless? Are old ideas worthless? Do we ignore or do we confront thoughts and philosophies, old or new?

Have we become SO woke and arrogant that we think we have completely sussed out the human condition and have thought of everything already?

The Matrix failed over and over again because it couldn't get around the problem of choice - of free will. Of independent thought.

Why are universities so risk-averse of offending anyone and in doing so, lose the opportunity of gaining a better understanding of any concept?

The trend of 'non-platforming' anyone, however repulsive their opinions might be, is a failure of our universities.

My question is, what are you afraid of? If your argument is right, you will win. If it is wrong, you will learn something.

Free speech is the ONLY marker that you are free.

And watch this:

Monday, 21 January 2019

Do As I say, Don't Do As I Do

Thus tweets the official Twitter account of the GMB Union:

"It's lunchtime on the third working day of 2019 and fat cat bosses have already been paid what typical workers will earn ALL YEAR.

We're calling for action on CEO pay to reduce the gap between the country’s highest and lowest earners."

Meanwhile, Tim Roache, the General Secretary of the GMB pockets a scorching £263,000 a year - nearly £100,000 more than the highest office in the land - that of the Prime Minister. All for just a spot of hypocritical posturing.

The so-called Fat Cat CEOs earn eye-watering amounts. This is very true. So bleeding what?

And yes, they do buy flash cars, which are built with billions spent on R&D and engineering, parts sourced from hundreds, if not thousands of ancilliary suppliers and manufacturers from all over the world, involving millions of people - from miners digging out iron ore, steel workers turning ore into useful metal, tanners making leather for seats, rubber tappers harvesting sap for tyres, petrochem scientists making paints and lubricants, and millions in the servicing industry.

They employ thousands of people. They pay millions in business rates. They pay employer's contribution of National Insurance, which is in essence a penalty for having the gumption to give someone a job and a wage. Just think about it. You have to pay the government to employ someone.

These Commies will be the end of us, I tell you.

Democracy 101

A leader takes people where they want to be, not where you think they ought to be.
One of these choices smell of a dictatorship.
If your electorate voted one way, based on a manifesto you stood on, and you as an MP stand opposed to it, you've got it all wrong. You're failing and defrauding the very people who gave you your job.
You ARE dispensable, you know that, or don't you?

Electoral Euthanasia

Well Jamelia
First you go and utterly ruin a beautiful Sam Brown song - I forgave you for that a long time ago. You do have a good voice, with or without auto-tune. Just don't do that again.
And then you come up with this brilliant idea of disenfranchising people, many of whom are responsible for the freedom for you to do whatever it is you do. The wisdom that comes with age and experience can never be overestimated.
You are correct when you say they will not be around to experience the consequences or fruits of their vote. This says more than you think: they're not making these choices for themselves. They're not scorching the earth holding two fingers up while they shift their mortal coil. They care, and they're making these choices for you, based on what they know and what you have yet to learn.
Besides, and I truly hope you understand, that should this Electoral Euthanasia ever come to pass, the next in line will be people with mental health problems, disabled people, those with a severely reduced life-expectancies, people deemed to be of the 'wrong' political or religious persuasion... or dare I say it - of the wrong colour or race. Pretty slippery slope that.
Can you think of any recent historical figure in the last 100 years whose main jam was just that?

I think you'd better stop, before you tear us all apart. 
You'd better stop before you go and break us all.

Monday, 17 December 2018

The Annual Christmas Tube Strike


In very recent months, if I recall correctly, an airline pilot lost his job for failing a single drugs test. This guy was earning just about as much as a hairdresser or forkift driver, despite the fact he was responsible for hundreds of lives, trapped in a pressurized cannister filled with terrified farts, brought on by shrink-wrapped and microwaved airline food, hurtling through the sky at 35,000 feet at 900kmph, with any number of variables that if not handled correctly, could end in unimaginable disaster resulting in the death of every single person on board.

And then we have London Underground drivers. They essentially drive stick, on a train on a fixed route, on fixed rails, using a mostly automated system, essentially using the same amount of effort and skill of a 13-year-old on an X-Box.

Some of them take home to thier families - three, in some cases four times as much as someone that flies an airplane, or a guy that drives a taxi for 14 hours a day; for fiddling a joystick, pressing a button to open and close doors, and occasionally addressing their hapless customers on a PA system in some incoherent mumble, that you're going to be late for work and how much they regret the inconvenience. NOT.

One such genius failed a drug test; not once, not twice, but THREE times. While sanity should have kicked in after the first failed test, the powers-that-be decided to wait for a third go. He was then duly fired. Better late than never, you would think.

Except, it's not fair. A mere mortal would lose his driving license and therefore in all probabilty his job for being two pints down.

The union he is a member of are going out on strike in protest of his sacking. The strike is of course perfectly timed (like they do every year on one pretext or another) for the busiest, most festive time of the year - so as to have the most impact, affecting thousands of commuters going out shopping for family and friends, and those trying to get to jobs where these customers will be served. The losses to the economy, just for this one day runs in the hundreds of millions.

That these joystick-jockeys have so much clout, such eye-watering wages, and holiday entitlements that are the among the best in the world, is seen by many as the collective bargaining power of unions.

It isn't.

It's the power of a monopoly.

Saturday, 24 November 2018

"Puny Gods"

For centuries, millennia even, people have evolved drastically. Mostly into dickheads.
There is of course no evidence of any biological evolution of us homo-sapiens from when we were hacking away at people from neighbouring villages for food or riches or territory or control of resources, or constructing drainage systems in the Indus Valley, or palaces and fabulous gardens in Mesopotamia (Iraq-ish), or the pyramids in Egypt and Peru and Mexico, or the pagodas in the far east, or the intricate Hindu temples hewn out of solid rock, or the majestic cathedrals and fortified castles in Europe, to the day we travelled to and landed on the moon some 384,400 kilometres away, or on a lower scale, split an atom to unleash unimaginable energy and thereby, deadly force.
Strangely enough, forcing two atoms together does the same thing. I'm digressing now. Hate that about me. Grrr...
We've conquered and colonised the third rock from the sun. "A mote of dust caught in a sunbeam", as Carl Sagan put it.
Or so we thought. Some idiots still do.
Where we weren't able to establish control, nature and the cosmos always reserved its right of reminding us that it was around before us, and will continue to be there long after we are gone.
We tamed fire, but California burns. We tamed rivers, but the Indian monsoons render half of Bangladesh under water every year. We built better and stronger houses, and yet earthquakes in the Himalayan/Hindukush footprint turn them into rubble in the blink of an eye. We mastered the oceans with our naval armadas, our sophisticated submarines carrying enough ordnance to fossilise us all, and revelled in the gorgeous coastal resorts we built, and yet a tsunami, or whirlpools of winds we lovingly call Brenda or Dorothy, lasting no longer than a 4-minute pop video, wash them away like discarded post-BBQ toothpicks on my decking trying to resist a jet-wash. As the Hulk would say, "Puny God". That'd be us.
Physically and biologically we are still driven by the same basic instincts that enabled our ancestors to survive and prosper, exerting unrivalled dominion over everything around us.
We hit the top of the food chain long, long before any history or mythology was ever recorded. A built-in arrogance comes with that as standard.
Today, we don't battle nature as much as we battle each other. Our arrogance has led us to interpret nature's fury as a result of anthropological actions. Hence we level our pitchforks where we can draw blood. The Green Joke, I call it. Since we can't beat nature, we beat each other. The fact is, nothing we posses, despite our god-like prowess, can fight climate change - a single volcanic eruption lasting a week will dwarf and negate an entire city's use of special light-bulbs and a jute tote bag (flown over from Dhaka, accruing more air miles than four jaunts to Spain), no one ever uses more than twice. It'd be funny if it wasn't true.
The only areas where we have repeatedly given nature a good and proper bashing is pollution and waste: Plastic waste in oceans and the deliberate decimation of the world's forests and biodiversity. We waste 40% of all food we till the land for, hire trucks, trains, ferries, and planes for - just for looking a bit wonky. The rest of the 60% we carry home in our Made-In-Bangladesh bags for life, eventually chucking half of it away three days later because it was on offer and we bought too much.
I suspect nature will find a way to fight back. In the words of the famous philosopher of our times, Jeff Goldblum in Jurassic Park, "Life, will find a way". Life always does. It's kind of like the overuse of antibiotics renders them useless because the bacteria evolve into more powerful strains within a few months, if not weeks. Thing is, they're only adapting to survive, just like we are. Don't hold it against the little critters.
Back to the point I was making about our evolution: We did evolve, in a way. Indeed, our larger brains gave us superiority over all things that moved or breathed, but we simply went mental with it: We got arrogant. We went tribal. We developed ideas. We made rules. A lot of them were based on our survival instinct centred on commonality (racism, anyone?), teamwork, empathy and cooperation for survival. All of which, including altruism, are biological instincts. We've managed to fuck up each one. Different story, another time, perhaps.
And thus began every single 'ism', initially as a fairly benign set of moral postulates. We developed religions, Hinduism, Taoism, Buddhism, Judaism, Catholicism, Islamism, etc, each one claiming to be the right way and the only way to please a god no one had spoken to or a path to a heaven no one had ever seen. We went full cerebral.
If that wasn't enough, in seeking to codify the human condition, we developed political systems supplicating one for another, often with extreme violence - socialism for feudalism and communism for fascism, each new idea eventually morphing into the very thing it sought to replace, forgetting in the process that, nature always wins. You can't control people just like you can't control nature. Build the Matrix as many times as you want, but there always be the problem of choice. Right or wrong in your manufactured mindset, there will always be a Morpheus. There will always be a Neo. There will always be a Zion.
Like I said before, we've gone completely mental.

Thursday, 22 November 2018

Free Roaming Charges? Really?

If you've read your history right, you will be well aware of how and why colonisation works and is a thing. If you have had a decent education and proper teachers - not ideologically brainwashed morons straight out of university with zero experience of life and the human condition - you will have learned that most empires are not built with a thirst for territorial gain and pure malice for peoples considered lesser, because that is just an excuse. Most socio-religious justifications are an excuse. The real reasons are very different.
Empires are built on greed. Economic and financial greed. They're built on the perpetual search for natural resources that can be tapped into for financial gain. The modern term for this is 'asset stripping' by gaining complete and unfettered control over a nation's natural resources.
A little digression before I continue...
On an individual level, greed is usually a good thing - it implies hunger, requires hard work to feed it, and it drives ambition. It makes successful people successful. This is NOT the argument I am making right now.
Now back to the point I was making...
I have often compared the European Union to the Mafia. I have often referred to the United Kingdom as a vassal state of the supra-national European Union. I have often referred to the United Kingdom as a colony of the 4th Riech, reincarnated as the Franco-Deutsche combine, under the guise of a lapiz lazuli blue flag with a circle of yellow stars, intent on the enforcement of a centralised command centre, top down policy - enforced by law - with no room or leeway for dissent or disagreement.
Now these are subjective arguments - feelings or 'conspiracy theories - if you want to call them that. I've lived long enough to have been inundated with Soviet propaganda to recognise it when I see it.What the European trade cartel does to developing countries is well-documented. I present a snapshot of what is it doing to the United Kingdom. WITH our permission.
For a moment, forget how I feel. Forget my personal opinions. Let's look at some facts. Facts don't care about my feelings. They don't care about yours either.
1. Cadbury moved their factory to Poland 2011 with an EU grant.
2. Ford Transit moved to Turkey 2013 with an EU grant.
3. Jaguar Land Rover has recently agreed to build a new plant in Slovakia with an EU grant, owned by Tata, the same company who have trashed our steel works and emptied the workers pension funds. Guess who is going to foot the bill eventually. It won't be the EU. It will be you.
4. Peugeot closed its Ryton (was Rootes Group) plant and moved production to Slovakia with an EU grant.
5. The British army's new Ajax fighting vehicles are to be built in Spain using Swedish steel at the request of the EU to support jobs in Spain with an EU grant, never mind that the Welsh steel industry is taking a bashing.
6. Dyson is manufacturing in Malaysia, not only because of abundant manufacturing expertise in the region, but with encouragement and a generous EU loan.
7. Crown Closures of Bournemouth (Remember Metal Box?), have relocated to Poland with an EU grant. Bournemouth lost 1,200 jobs as result.
8. A lot of Marks & Spencers manufacturing was sourced from the far east. With EU loans over the past decade, most of it is.
9. Hornby models are no longer made in Britain. Again, EU grants.
10. Gillette manufactures in various east European countries. Again, propped up with EU grants.
11. American company, Texas Instruments' HQ and manufacturing moved to Germany - with, you guessed it, the help of a European Union grant.
12. Indesit (formerly of Bodelwyddan, Wales) now manufactures in eastern Europe. Aided by a hefty European Union grant.
13. Sekisui Alveo has announced that production at its Merthyr Tydfil Industrial Park foam plant will relocate production to Roermond in the Netherlands, with EU funding.
14. Hoover's Merthyr factory has moved out of UK to Czech Republic and the Far East by Italian company Candy with EU backing.
15. ICI - an iconic British corporate name known all over the world assimilated into Holland’s AkzoNobel with an EU bank loan. Within days of the merger, several factories in the UK, were closed, eliminating 3,500 jobs.
16. Boots sold to Italian Stefano Pessina who have based their HQ in Switzerland to avoid tax to the tune of £80 million a year, using an EU loan for the purchase.
17. JDS Uniphase run by two Dutch men, brought up companies in the UK with £20 million in EU 'regeneration' grants, created a pollution nightmare and just closed it all down leaving 1,200 out of work and an environmental clean-up paid for by the UK tax-payer. They also raided the pension fund and drained it dry.
18. Some UK airports are owned by a Spanish company. EU structural funds.
19. The Hinkley Point C nuclear power station to be built by French company EDF, part owned by the French government, using cheap Chinese steel that has catastrophically failed in other nuclear installations. Now EDF say the costs will be double or more and it will be very late even if it does come online.
20. Swindon was once our producer of rail locomotives and rolling stock. Not any more, it's Bombardier in Derby and due to their losses in the aviation market, that could see the end of the British railways manufacturing altogether even though Bombardier had EU grants to keep Derby going which they diverted to their loss-making aviation side in Canada.
While you're pondering over this, and some anoraks are actually fact-checking it, I'll call it as I see it. Britain is a net contributer to the EU. All these 'EU'funds and loans being used to asset strip the United Kingdom are money WE gave them. They're using the knife we gave them to stab us.
So if you think opposition to the EU is just about immigration, or that the only people that voted for Brexit were unemployed drugged up rednecks in jogging bottoms with three teeth, a can of lager in one hand and a roll-up in the other, you couldn't be more wrong.
If anyone is a bigot, it's probably you.

Wednesday, 15 August 2018

Select History. Press Delete.

I find the tendency to trivialise the 80s, the Cold War and the genuine threat to liberty and democracy around the world that the USSR represented quite disturbing.

History has been re-written. The Revisionists - particularly millennial academics – now in charge of our educational establishments, have completely whitewashed and entirely hollowed out the achievements of Ronald Reagan, Margaret Thatcher and other world leaders of the time, and their role in exposing and thus discrediting and playing their part in dismantling what was the CCCP project. That they do not recognise the European Union’s Arbeit-Macht-Frei-esque sloganeering to be akin to Nazi Germany or the Soviet Union is disconcerting to say the least to those that have lived through those times and find the signs all too familiar.

Many of the under 40s have no idea of the threat communism was, not just in terms of the formidable military arsenal the Soviets possessed but in terms of the bloody revolutions, genocidal campaigns, and political assassinations they carried out around the world.

The USSR backed and facilitated satellite regimes and paramilitary movements weren’t limited to Africa, South America, the Middle East and Asia alone: The Red Brigade in Italy operated openly in several northern cities and just as a single example of their boldness they orchestrated the kidnapping of a 2 time Christian Democrat PM (at that point party leader in opposition), Aldo Mora, one or the major figures of post war Italian politics. They killed 5 men in his security detail, held him prisoner for 54 days, and then executed him by shooting him 10 times after covering him with a blanket on the pretence of moving him to another location.

I remember the fall of the Berlin Wall. I sensed and shared the euphoria of East & West Germany merging into Germany. Some years ago, my daughter bought me a fragment of the fallen wall on one of her trips to the continent. This was a wall the Far Left built – way before Donald Trump was building anything.

The Red Brigade in Italy was as extreme as extreme gets, but we have our own hard left in this country that while less overt in its use of violence (for now – but getting there) to support its goals, nonetheless has sympathy with those movements that resort to those tactics. Enter Antifa and the Koreshique Cult of Corbyn.

They shrug off Corbyn’s connections, affiliations and sympathies to militant political movements, communist revolutionaries and the terror groups they label “freedom fighters”. They do so because they have no appreciation of those times - they argue communism or radical socialism was corrupted by bad leaders in Russia and China but that the ideas themselves were noble.

Trouble is, noble as they might sound, they are anything but. Nothing the hard left want can be achieved while free will is still a thing, while free will is still a human right, while free speech, the right to criticise and offend is still a basic principle of a democracy where every voice or opinion or belief or religion has every right to be heard, and equally, be open to be commented on, lauded, ridiculed, lampooned or critically analyzed.

Communism isn’t dead; it’s just got a better, cuddlier marketing strategy in this day and age. It’s waging a culture war against liberal democracy and our institutions and we HAVE to fight it.

With contributions from Daniel Cremin and Catherine Francoise.

Monday, 26 December 2016


My soul I offered up, for nothing
And nothing is what it became
I should have sold it, like Dorian
Let it fester and rot, infested with sin
And that'd have wounded me far less...

Than the hellfire of a broken heart

Friday, 4 November 2016


From the warm confines
Of radiators on full tilt
Behind double-glazed windows
The views of a burning inferno
Yellows, mustards, tans
Reds, crimsons, browns
It's alight out there
In flames, as it were
On fire. Inviting. Alluring.
Just like you.
Struck against a November sky

Blue, deep, clear, promising
Just like you.
And then you step outside
The leaves aren't burning
They're rotting, turning to mulch
Just like you.
The autumn isn't fire
It's distant, it's cold, it's wet
Just like you.
There's no hope back
To warm embraces
And tender kisses
And loving gazes
Like the summer of green
It's gone forever
Just like you.

Monday, 31 October 2016

Diwaloween Mubarak!

Okay, I'm gonna get a little preachy here, so forgive me.

Actually, don't. I don't care.

I'm a bit of a SocMed obsessive, and thus, am connected a lot. Which of course means many hundreds of greetings flood my timelines and inboxes at any given festival. Many are nice, benovelent, and heartfelt; many are "It's gotta be done, so copy-paste Happy-Mubarak-Tabrik whatever". A disturbingly sizeable minority are bigotted, religio-fanatic, divisive drivel disguised as greetings. And then there are those faux greetings from the ham-acted so-politically-correct-that-they-miss-the-point-of-everything-altogether.

Therein lies my rant.

I'd have everyone know: Sikhs celebrate Bandi Chhod Divas on the day of Diwali. Not INSTEAD of Diwali. Diwali is our festival too. The Guru Granth Sahib is replete with references to the lessons in Valmiki's Ramayan and other major Hindu texts. That the story of Ram and the Ramayan is mythological and Bandi Chhod Diwas is historical fact has nothing to do with anything. Bandi Chhod Diwas is a significant event in the course of Sikh history - and a celebratory one at that. It was a man's triumph over religious bigotry and fundamentalist oppression. Read up on it - the history and purpose of Bandi Chhod Diwas is all over the internet every Diwali.

I celebrate Diwali. And I revere Bandi Chhod Diwas. So if you're out gambling and drinking tonight and buying gifts for people you couldn't care less about for the rest of the year, and you're sending me messages why 'Happy Diwali' offends you, you need to take a long, hard look at your warped morality.

And the White-guilt laden PC Multi-Culti brigade? I'm not gonna swear today, so I have nothing to say to you.

Remember, on this day just over 400 years ago, the then leader of what later became the Sikh religion, gambled his release from his political oppressors on the release of others who weren't of his own faith, and won. Sadly we no longer have leaders like that any more.

That said, I wish you all a very happy Diwali. And many congratulations to all my fellow Sikhs on the 405th anniversary of Bandi Chhod Diwas.

Friday, 21 October 2016

The Afterburn

And I whittle, peel, shed
My inhibitions
Open, lay bare, expose
My soul
Surrender, give in, submit
My self;
For that one moment
Of fevered fire
Of searing heat
Of fervent passion;
And all that I am
In a heap of sated waste
Sweaty, bloody, tired
Delirious, happy, ruined
Glowing in the afterburn.
Khyberman, 21st October, MMXVI