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reSenTinG YoUR DArLiNGS

haters gonna hate – even the shit i be proud of, yeah?

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December 2014

false grit- half man half biscuit

This blog was originally going to be a warts ‘n’ all writing procedural. Over the last year or so, the process of continuing to exist has meant a lot more focus on politics and the criminal behaviour of our betters,

I’ve been looking into the Victorian era of late, an idea I’ve had for April’s NaNoWriMo. I’ve never written a steampunk novel before so I’m looking forward to subverting – if not outright mutilating – the genre. So that’s the backdrop anyhoo. Gas lighting, corsetry and industrial injuries

I’d set today aside to nuke the final draft of ‘Ladies and gentleman’, but I just went back to the coalface on Monday and after five weeks of living the horizontal dream and marathon binges of ‘Buffy the vampire slayer’, I’m exhausted. Two days at work and it feels like I’ve run a marathon. In ill-fitting armour and clown shoes.

In any case, there’s little point in bunging a new book out at this time of year when it’s only going to be lost in the ex-mess rush. So it’ll be February now. Which gives me time to get back on my feet, gather my strength and come out fighting, ready for April’s ridiculous fanatical marathon sprint.

On the downside, I’m still not fully over this string of diseases that crushed me last month, so after a few hours at work, all I’m fit for is reading fiction. I hate being ill – I’m a rubbish invalid – so I’m finding this intensely frustrating. Patience is, I think, something that only happens to rich people and Americans.

Hopefully a week from now, I’ll have grown some more teeth and can get back to continuing my sarcasm-blitzkrieg.

to defy the laws of tradition- primus

Watching ‘Question time’ last night (yeah, that’s why this is late – a lot happening) with Russell Brand and noted evil puppet Nigel Fromage, I’m struck by the increasing levels of separation in UK politics. In Scotland, we have record levels of engagement, people actually, y’know, discussing politics while the word from south of the border often seems to be that the damn fool jocks have had their referendum and can we all shut up about it now.

The red and blue tories are by now completely indistinguishable, with the only ‘dissenting’ voice being Fromage’s. Like me, you might find the idea of describing someone hell-bent on dragging Britain back to 1947 as ‘dissenting’, but Fromage is the only person even attempting to move the dialogue in present day UK politics out of the labour-tory coalition’s bland morass. It’s a shame he’s a cunt, really, as he’s the one person in the country whose (admittedly miserable) opinions are changing the playing field. Through wanking off people’s fears and using immigration as a smokescreen for everything.

UKIP is dragging the (blue) tories to the right, while the red tories clutch desperately to Cameron’s coat-tails – as they have since Kinnock first started clinging to Thatcher’s back in the eighties. It’s like a monstrous conga line, led by a Lovecraftian monster.

Neil Kinnock took about ten years to drag labour from Michael Foot to Tony Blair. Remember during and after the Falklands, when all your mates rushed to join the labour party as it was the only political party in this country where the rank and file made conference level decisions? Remember how disillusioned they were as labour moved to the right? That.

Scotland is traditionally a labour voting country and the labour party have done more than Thatcher, Major and Cameron to destroy that tradition. Labour today have about as much relevance as the liberals had throughout the twentieth century.

someone like you – adele

I don’t know about you, but with the government’s new anti porn law, I’ve completely forgotten that the economy’s arsed and sexual abuse of children has been endemic throughout our entire system for decades.

So now, in a dazzling and inspired celebration of world AIDS day, our beloved coalition government have decided to put a whole bunch of activities that don’t lead to the transmission of disease on the naughty step.

Bondage. Spanking. Hitting or whipping. Strangulation. Face-sitting. Well, I think that’s the whole of my sex life covered. So, obviously, I’ll just not have any sexual feelings from now on. Which may or may not cheer up my long-suffering Domme. And she’d better not get attitudey about it either, as abusive language during sex is also now verboten.

In my first two novels, I covered impact play, waste play and bondage. With my non-contentious and totally vanilla novel, ‘Ladies and gentleman’ about to be published, I thought I’d avoided getting on the wrong side of anyone this time, but no. Female ejaculation’s now up there with the Yorkshire ripper and defrauding an innkeeper. The next one’s all just racism and violence – I promise – surely that can’t offend anyone? Maybe I should do it as a pop-up book.

The UK economy’s in shreds. Borrowing’s through the roof and with the price of oil bobbing around $70 a barrel (and Osborne’s promise to oil companies that he’ll intervene with a tax cut for them) there’s no end in sight. New legislation that’ll drive more UK businesses to the wall – or abroad – makes superb economic sense. After all, anyone who loses their job’s a diabolical scrounger – and foodbanks are the new ‘spirit of the blitz’, innit?

With the UN looking hard at the UK’s human rights record with regard to women, children, the poor and the disabled, what better time to be seen to be doing something about those dreadful perverts? And, best of all, most if not all of the blacklisted activities seem to be things that women enjoy. Win-win. Certainly, I’m looking forward stiffer penalties for the possession, distribution or consumption of the work of Adele early in the next parliament.

When John Major’s government were on the ropes, rocked with sex scandals, the tories had the brilliant idea of targeting the BDSM community. Operation Spanner cost a paltry three million britquids and secured convictions against sixteen men for taking part in consensual sexual activities. Now contrast and compare with the present.

The spanner ruling of March 10th 1993 made real life BDSM illegal. And now that representations of it are tantamount to blasphemy too, I look forward to the special UK cut of ‘Fifty shades of shite’ when it’s released. After all, if that book sold thirty two million copies in English alone, it’s not like there’ll be any market for it.

And we can all take comfort from the fact that fucking kids and then strangling them afterwards will still be mandatory for Westminster MPs and light entertainers.

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