Answers Arent At The Back

Thursday, September 29, 2005

'Power To The People'

This caught my attention.. [OK so I'm sure none of us in the UK could of missed it, as it was all over the Press]

Walter Wolfgang AKA 'Wolfie' [As he's known to his friends], was ejected from the 'New' Labour Party conference yesterday and held under the UK's 'Prevention of Terrorism' laws.

Who was this guy? An 'al-Qa'ida' suicide bomber? A 'Mujahedeen' mercenary with secret mission to assassinate our Lord Tony Blair?

No, he was a frail eighty two year old man! A man who has been a Labour Party member since 1948, before Tony Blair was even born. A man who had broken no laws, all he'd dared to do was yell 'nonsense' at the Foreign Secretary whilst he gave a speech. The old boy is a peace campaigner and very anti the war in Iraq.

[Ohh.. While I'm mentioning Tony B, has anyone every seen him and Mrs.Thatcher together in the same room at the same time? It's just a thought because I've got this theory that they might well be one of the same person! You know like Michael Jackson and LaToya.]

Anyway, for heckling... Heckling FFS! It's a party conference, people are meant to Heckle! Oh and Wolfie might not have felt the need to heckle at the conference if 'New' Labour had not refused to debate the war in Iraq in the first place!

The wider issue... Don't say, blog or express your opinions about anything the current UK government doesn't want to here. If you do, your 'Knicked' sunshine under the 'Prevention of Terrorism' act!

It is a very sad day for the freedom of speech in this country. First the ban on demonstrations within a mile of Parliament and now the police see the use of anti-terrorism laws as an excuse to restrain innocent citizens. Sadly though, it can only get worse with the planned introduction of ID Cards and further Anti-Terrorism laws being rushed through.

And the Irony of it all? Jack Straws speech that Wolfie interrupted, it was about the UK's attempt to introduce democracy to Iraq, whilst at the same time giving a clear illustration of fascism in his own country.

Ciao Ciao
Confused From Chichester

I BLOG There4 I Am

4Comments:

gemmak said...: Tsk...I left a comment here....where it go?; 2:58 pm
Fletch said...: Where... U sure u pressed OK?

What was it.?; 3:28 pm
Anonymous said...: Well, isn't that a damn shame? No wonder you're so confused. ; ); 4:54 am
gemmak said...: Yeah I'm sure I pressed OK....lol, even I can work that bit ;o)

Can't remember exaclty wot is woz...summat about the poor old guy being a terrifying terrorist risk and the absurdity of it all....but the moment has gone! lol.; 5:52 pm

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The Register - Biting the hand that feeds IT

"I know why you're here. I know what you've been doing... why you hardly sleep, why you live alone, and why night after night, you sit by your computer...."

**********

D: "Where is everybody, Hol?"
H: "They're dead, Dave."
D: "Who is?"
H: "Everybody, Dave."
D: "What, Captain Hollister?"
H: "Everybody's dead, Dave."
D: "What, Todhunter?"
H: "Everybody's dead, Dave."
D: "What, Selby?"
H: "They're all dead. Everybody's dead, Dave."
D: "Petersen isn't, is he?"
H: "Everybody is dead, Dave."
D: "Not Chen?"
H: "Gordon Bennett! Yes! Chen, everybody. Everybody's dead, Dave"
D: "Rimmer?"
H: "He's dead, Dave. Everybody's dead. Everybody is dead, Dave!"
D: "Wait. Are you trying to tell me everybody's dead?"
H: "I wish I'd never let him out in the first place."

**********

"I know most of you have been where I am tonight: the crash site of unrequited love. You've asked yourself, how did I get here? What was it about--was it her smile, Was it the way she crossed her legs, the turn of her ankle? The poignant vulnerability of her slender wrists? What are these elusive and ephemeral things that ignite passion in the human heart?...."

"That's an age-old question; it's perfect food for thought on a bright midsummer's night. Hey, you said it best, Will: "Love looks not with eyes but with the mind, And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind." Yeah....."

**********

"Well one day I was at home threatening the kids when I looks out through the hole in the wall and sees this tank pull up and out gets one of Dinsdale's boys, so he comes in nice and friendly and says Dinsdale wants to have a word with me, so he chains me to the back of the tank and takes me for a scrape round to Dinsdale's place and Dinsdale's there in the conversation pit with Doug and Charles Paisley, the baby crusher, and two film producers and a man they called 'Kierkegaard', who just sat there biting the heads of whippets and Dinsdale says 'I hear you've been a naughty boy Clement' and he splits me nostrils open and saws me leg off and pulls me liver out and I tell him my name's not Clement and then... he loses his temper and nails me head to the floor..."

**********

"If u hold back anything Ill kill ya. If u bend the truth or I think your bending the truth, Ill kill ya. If u forget anything Ill kill ya. In fact ur gonna have to work very hard to stay alive. Now do u understand everything Ive said? Because if u dont, Ill kill ya...."

**********

"The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the iniquities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. "

**********

The details of my life are quite inconsequential... very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds- pretty standard really. At the age of twelve I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking- I highly suggest you try it.

**********

Love comes when manipulation stops. When you think more about the other person than about his or her reaction to you. When you dare to reveal yourself fully. When you dare to be vulnerable.

Thursday, September 29, 2005

'Power To The People'

4Comments:

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