Dreaming

After a good few beers last night, I retired to bed and woke up this morning fairly fresh.

The usual routine of getting the papers and then having breakfast ensued. Thumbing through these papers convinced me that I must still be asleep as I was seemingly reading the fiction of my worst nightmares:-

1. The fuller story of how a politician spent six hours in police custody for doing no more than his job (like him or loathe him).

2. Another scandal where it appears Social Workers had ample opportunity to do something, but didn't - whether or not they followed the obviously flawed procedures is not the point, common sense and decency should have prevailed.

3. Big back garden = Pikey Park. No comment required, I'll sell up and buy a flat.

4. "I'm a waste of space, pay me money to sit in a fuckin' campsite in Australia and call it entertainment" covering far too many column inches.

5. "Crime predictive CCTV cameras". They will decide I am about to commit a crime because I am walking slowly...hmm...that's concrete evidence obviously. Forget the fact that I have may have buggered my leg up trying to kick start a belligerent old Triumph T110...

So where, exactly, is this country going?

Well, from my perspecitive, it seems to be going down the shitter quicker than big houses with big gardens in Essex. How much longer will the majority of decent, hard-working people put up with this constant attrition of all the values, civil liberties and the quality of life we have worked so hard for? Why should the feckless wastrels be cut a piece of the pie I paid for? Why should we allow the Mother of All Parliaments to be implicit in tactics that are reminiscent of Soviet Russia?
Why should we read about an English Josef Fritzl when so much money is spent (wasted) in Social Services?

And why can I not hobble up the road to my local pub with being branded a potential criminal?

I shall have more beers tonight and hope that when I wake up tomorrow, the nightmare will have gone and that it was all a bad dream.

But I very much doubt it.

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=7r8QPTavweI

Starting to lose it.

So...after a lovely walk (and a few beers) round Parliament least week, I found myself in a post euphoria fugue and the news today snaps me out of it like an acid bath.

I am talking about "Baby P".

Sixty visits by "so-called" experts and this defenceless child dies in pain that I cannot imagine. And yet at Parliament, Cameron asks a half decent question and is given a series of the usual "executive summary" has been issued, "lessons will be learnt", "weaknesses have been identified" by the PM. I don't have any time for Cameron or the PM, but as usual no questions are directly answered and the whole lot will eventually be forgotten about until the next one dies. The layer upon layer of red-tape, delegated accountability and self nest-feathering will always result in this.

And another defenceless child will die. And then another. And then another.

It all boils down to the simple fact that most Social Workers are simply incompetents who are quite happy to take the inflated salary, comfy hours and gold-plated pension, without actually helping anyone. There is always someone else to blame. I have had occasion to meet some of these people and I wouldn't employ most of them to polish my shoes. But once they have their feet under the table of public service, they turn into the green-eyed self-serving spineless loafers that are blighting this country. At least the unemployed don't do anything badly since they do nothing at all - this lot get paid a fortune to do everything badly.

The continued incompetence at all levels of government - be it social services, the economy, education, the health service, law and order, transport, the mere fact that they could actually put people like Blears, Balls and Harperson in positions of power, is testament to troughing nature of pretty much all politicians.

They care only of themselves, never you. Remember that. It might keep you ahead of the game, at least for a while.

In the meantime, I am asking my biochemist friend to invent a sort of Myximotosis for Social Workers. It is only right.