Christmas in July

Christmas in February

Well, Christmas in July, anyway.

'Nam.

Christmas in February: Lou Reed from the (check it out, it's his absolute best) New York album. Soldiers coming home from 'Nam. Vietnam.

Christmas in July?

'Nam.

As in Debenham(s).

July is when the big retailers gear up to test-drive their Christmas products, decide what to market and what isn't going to fly (this year the guinea pigs will sample, among other delights, a Brussels sprout smoothie with apple and pear juice – if Rik Mayall were still alive they'd surely be contemplating a Bottom advertising campaign for that one).

There's mock ups of suburban homes with trees and crackers, that rubbish music and trees and silly hats all over the place, apparently, with Tesco and Waitrose and Morrisons blokes with clipboards scribbling away, ticking and crossing.

Photographic studios are busy taking pictures of juicy turkey slices, glistening roasties, flaming puds smothered in custard and cream, such is the lead time for getting those pictures into the glossy magazine advertising pages.

Who watches the watchmen?

I grow tired of them. Really, I do.

If only it were not for: football matches / football fans / binge drinking / drugs / the Internet / guns / the influx of foreigners / porn / loud rock music / (even worse) hip hop music / Grand Theft Auto [insert release number (Roman Numerals) here]...

...then...

There'd be no violence / theft / naughty children / accidents / paedos / atheists...

...and...

England would win every World Cup and European Championships, the churches would be packed, the pubs and clubs empty, every cinema would be showing The Sound of Music on every screen, and decent, well-respected people from wealthy families would be free to continue ruthlessly exploiting everyone else for their own selfish benefit.

Stinkin' thinkin'.

The government, and the prime minister's offices (centres of stinkin' thinkin' excellence) appointed a chief advisor, a guru, to stem the flow of Internet child porn.

Like all the others, he ignored the problem (humans are not some super-species, here to look down on nature, flora, all other fauna, do with the earth what we want), which is of human origin, and attacked the sideshow: the naughty Internet. Police the un-policeable, catch up with the un-catchupable, and we'll have it sorted in no time he said.

The prime minister and no doubt the home secretary (because she loves a good snoop) liked what the bloke said, bought into it, promoted his views and opinions, heeded his advice.

Probably like untold numbers of others in similar positions of power, he had child porn images on his tablet pc.

63 of them at the latest count.

Why Waste Your Time?

Why bother voting?

This is what you get.

A clean up child porn initiative, sponsored by our political 'leader', on behalf of the gang that think they're qualified and entitled to tell us all what to do, led by a man with child porn on his personal computer.