So as far as Bill is concerned, I’m hanging up his commenting keyboard for good. Oh, I’ll be writing elsewhere on similar topics, but in different ways through a different medium. But Bill Sticker will no more haunt forums and comment threads. This is the final it. This blog and the blogger counterpart will be his memorial until I decide to take them down. The door will not hit me on the way out.

Why? We can rant and rage on our blogs against the machine all we like, but is the machine listening? Not a bit of it, say I. The machine is a clumsy, massive bureaucratic construction that carelessly crushes those bull headed enough to get in its way. Thus it is down to each of us to plough our respective lonely furrows, to create what small miracles we can in our own minuscule ways. By not giving into the temptation of every single shiny new toy. By not blindly following some glib ‘leader’ promising ‘change’ without actually defining what that change will be. Following leaders of that sort always leaves their followers with loose change and ashes, but little more. Maybe not quite the kind of change their followers were hoping for, but that is the way of things. The only person who can make real and lasting change for the better is the feet on the street. The little guy with a little heart, and enough guts to do the right thing at the right time. Whenever that is.

It’s been fun being Bill. He’s the guy who’s said all the things I sometimes haven’t been brave enough to voice in person. As far as he’s concerned, I’ve only ever documented a fraction of the real life strokes pulled, of the sheer bare faced cheek needed to survive the myriad of metaphorically jackboot wearing whack jobs out there. Of the many little victories against the blind behemoth of tick box bureaucracy. Now it’s time to move on.

TTFN

Johnny’s in the basement
Playing with his station
I’m on the pavement
Blogging ’bout government
The girl in the hi-viz
Hand out for new biz
Says she’s begging for the poor
Wants to get them paid off
Look out kid
It’s somethin’ you did
God knows when
But you’re doin’ it again
You better duck down the alley way
Tweetin’ for some new friends
Barista in the black shirt
Thinks they hit pay dirt
Wants eleven dollar bills
You only got ten.

Ah get born, watch porn
Short pants, romance, learn to dance
Get dressed, Confess
Try to be a success
Please her, please him, buy trash
Don’t steal, be flash
Twenty years of schoolin’
And your world is full of ash
Look out kid
They keep it all hid
Better jump down a manhole
Light yourself a candle
Don’t wear sandals
Try to avoid the scandals
Don’t wanna be a bum
You better chew gum
The power’s too high
‘Cause the cheaters rigged your meters.

Feel free to copy / plagiarise / whatever. If there’s anyone still out there…………

Great lady down.

Very happy for them.

There is a problem. If the White House does deport the odious little tabloid hack and he wants to stay in Canada; I personally do not want to have the nasty smegger polluting the airwaves up here in the not so frozen north. He has a vile, and some suspect, criminal past. Violating people’s privacy, damaging their reputations without good cause, causing the deaths of UK troops by publishing sensationalist and untrue allegations about UK armed forces in Iraq, and even suspected insider share dealing. If I was Immigration Canada I’d have him on the next flight out if ever he dared show himself at the border.

Although an amusing thought occurs. He could always take a gig up in Churchill, Manitoba, where he could go see how a gun ban works on one of the local Polar Bears. Or the Grizzlies on North Vancouver Island, even Northern BC would do. The bears would probably appreciate a free hack snack. How would that be for an edition of “I’m a celebrity – get me out of here!“? Hey, I’d watch.

Evil smirk.

That said, I’m dismayed, even horrified to see castrated versions of old songs / poems being published by people with an agenda. The latest victim is the famous 1823 poem “Twas the night before Christmas” by Clement Moore. Apparently two lines have been excised by an independent Canadian publisher because, horror of horrors, they referred to Santa smoking a PIPE! Argh! Call the thought Police! The offending lines excised are;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;

O-kay. But if the anti smokers can remove those lines, what about the next two?

He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

The anti obesity lobby will surely be after them shortly. The Animal rights lobby will want the lines about Santa’s fur coat and those poor ickle Reindeer being used to haul a sleigh removed, never mind about WWF and Greensleaze wanting the bits about open fireplaces and chimneys – Oh noes! What about the Carbon Footprint! removed.

Fortunately, there are dissenting voices, but in the meantime perhaps hitting the “Oo you shouldn’t be able to read about that” faction in the wallet by boycotting their output might be an option.

Mrs S will be giggling away in the background as she plays with the serious present she’s always wanted, we may Skype with friends and family. We may just zonk out and be massaged and saunaed to a singing glow. I’m really quite dizzy with anticipation.

The traditional Christmas break over here in Canada is much shorter than the UK’s general two week shutdown, but to be honest, I prefer it.

There’s a lot wrong down south, and yet there’s not as much as you might think. On the other hand, many south of the border appear to be ‘tooling up’ with gun sales increased across the board. People are ‘prepping’, stockpiling food, water and weapons for some unspecified cataclysm, be it associated with the forthcoming ‘fiscal cliff’ or any of the other putative disasters. The paranoia seems almost endemic. Catching. Self-perpetuating. Reading various forums and web sites, I get the overwhelming sense that people, not just in the USA, but also in Europe, have lost faith with those in authority. They do not trust their governments and its institutions to look after (or rather not interfere so much) the very peoples they are supposed to serve. Nor, it seems, do various factions within those institutions have much faith in each other. See “Plebgate” and associated fallout for one example.

There’s the word – trust. As levels of perceived intrusive security and surveillance rise, so does the paranoia and distrust of the public. Because of the actions of minorities, authorities clamp down on the majority, in the process arousing mistrust. Therefore people feel obliged to protect themselves and buy another gun, another case of ammo, secure the house, stockpile more stuff, dig another hole, find refuge. They see the increase in government agency authority and in an almost Newtonian reaction, try to compensate for the powerlessness this makes them feel. In turn Government expands to address the fears, but the more government power increases, the more regulation, the less it is trusted. The bigger it gets, the more monolithic and frightening it becomes. The more resources it consumes without producing more in return. Like a dying star it becomes too massive and begins to slowly implode into an economic black hole.

North of the border, at least here on the Wet coast of BC, we are encouraged to ‘prep’ for the ‘big one’ with emergency supplies for about 72 hours. Every year there is a public earthquake drill called the ‘Shake-out’. We sometimes take part, sometimes not, but all of my friends and neighbours have a stock of supplies, just in case. At home I can rely on enough food and water for one week, and have reasonable and workable fallback options (Hunting bow, fishing gear, hand tools) should the worst ever happen. Not only that, but I would work with my neighbours to assist them in any way I could. We all know that public resources will be limited in time of emergency, and so we prepare accordingly. There is still a strong sense of community and self reliance here in the Mid Island. Particularly in the more rural areas. What’s more we are trusted, indeed expected, to be so. This appears not to be the case elsewhere.

The truth is that organisations fail when they do not trust the very people they are supposed to serve, or fail to motivate their members enough to be trusted. A classic management failure occurs when those in positions of authority do not listen to anyone outside of their own close circles. They fail when focus groups, lobbying self-interest groups and think tanks direct policy. They fail in their allotted task when they become dishonest, distant and unaccountable. When spin becomes the message. When promises are easily discarded.

Without trust and co-operation there can be no real and lasting social interaction. Without open and free speech there can be no real confidence or trust. Without that honesty, confidence or trust, nations and societies cannot stand. At least not without massive surveillance and repression. And the price for that comes high. Too high.

Unfortunately, by treating other peoples property as public and lying to cover up their own mistakes, politicians and their pet activists lose that trust. No wonder voting is down and gun sales and ‘prepping’ are on the up.

Merry Christmas.