Snoop snoop sha’whoops
Our home secretary has failed to get her snoop’s charter on
the political agenda. Anyone able to look at the history, the ethos, and to
understand how the world wide web actually works knows the whole idea is
stupid, unworkable, and a nonsense. But she’s a politician, a tory, and she’s
another in a line of tory women with bees in their bonnets, and she wants
access to our emails, messages, twitter accounts, all that sort of stuff. Where
the army of staff needed to monitor such activity (I reckon about one-to-one is
the minimum ratio needed to monitor traffic effectively) is coming from and
what she wants to do with the information baffles me[1].
Anyway, she’s like the overall boss of the police. The
police have been give the option to use things like financial compensation,
sincere apologies, rebuilding vandalised stuff, to deal with minor wrong-doing.
There’s a chief officers’ memo setting out the circumstances under which these
measures should and should not be used. There’s 10,000 plus instances of them
being used in cases of serious violent crimes. Crimes resulting in broken
bones, stays in hospital, and the like. Not as intended. This has been
happening on her watch.
While she’s messing about with her snooping and trying to
export the bloke with no hands out of the Lion King.
Karen Brady. Liam Brady’s daughter, right?
I’ve never watched The Apprentice. I would rather pluck out
my own eyeballs and deposit them in a bucket of sulphuric badgers’ urine before
putting the whole foul mess through a liquidiser. There. Colours firmly nailed.
Apparently she’s part of the show, and wants to get involved in politics. That
figures. She must do politics very well indeed. Here’s a story about her days
at Birmingham .
Someone played bit of a trick on her. Aston Villa, big local
rivals, were managed by bling-encrusted Ron Atkinson (white), and they had a
star player who happened to be called Dalian Atkinson (black, no relation). The
trick was to make out that Dalian
was Ron’s boy. Chief executive Karen fell for it.
To explain just why this level of ignorance for someone
supposedly doing a job in the industry, it must be realised that if, for
example, you went to a Glasgow pub and picked
two random footy fans, they would laugh you out of the door if you suggested Dalian was Ron’s boy. London , Southampton, Manchester ,
Dundee . Anywhere, in fact. Football folk knew.
The chief executive of the neighbouring club didn’t. It’s like an engineer not
knowing a nut from a bolt or a steel from a concrete beam. It’s like a mechanic
not knowing what those round things in the corners are called. It’s like an
education secretary who’s never taken a lesson in his life. Oh. Yeah. Politics.
Of course. She’ll be perfect.
[1] In his
Inconvenient Truth book, Al Gore suggests the concept of ex-formation. As
opposed to information. He cites the data being beamed down from all the
surveillance satellites. If all the world’s computers and population did
nothing else but monitor this data, we’d still be falling behind in processing
it. Literally, too much information, man.
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