ELECTION DIARY – Translations!
no responses

 

What does it all MEAN, fa f-sake!

 

Mourning for Manchester

Every blogger in the world is writing about Manchester. Rather than repeat all the horror we feel, the sense of desperation in the face of the senseless slaughter of innocents, I want to look at the why. Why do we all have to write about this insult? Could anyone (apart from the psychopathic nut cases who arrange, carry out and celebrate these acts) not be appalled? So what’s the point in my saying so again.

I said so on Twitter. Hard not to, the news takes one to a bleak and horrible place, and one reply I had was from (popped onto Twitter so I could quote him exactly. The thread has been deleted. Tee hee) I think “nuttin’ but the truth” is his bonkers handle. (can’t be bothered to look him up. From the testosterone which oozes from his hate-filled finger I assume this nutcase is male) His tweet was something like “makes me sick virtue-signaling liberals moaning about Islamophobia ” which I translate as how dare liberals attack racists for being racist when all Muslims are evil.

Which called for an answer I think you’ll agree. Normally I ignore sick alt-right racists because I know how futile it is to argue. But before I had applied the Caution Filter to the fingers, a response escaped me onto the screen. “So we are not allowed to express and share our emotions? That’s normal” in the Twittersphere there are layers of meaning in every tweet. To translate, I was saying how dare you accuse me of virtue signaling, implying my expression of horror is insincere? If that’s what you are saying you are abnormal and a racist.

So obviously Mr Nuttin’ translates this as a full-on attack. His translation would be something like “god you are SO stupid! Stupid stupid stupid stupid. And racist. Also, stupid! And as a metropolitan liberal snowflake I have nothing but contempt for you, you redneck asshole!”

I claim that while that was probably what was at the BACK of my mind, my meaning was “hello. Engage the empathy button and understand why people need to express their horror in public: because it helps to share pain, because we need self-affirmation via the support we receive from our friends”.

So he responded “you liberals make me sick with your Muslim loving” meaning, “I am a dumb fucking racist asshole and impervious to logic and compassion”

I said: “Why don’t you consider the possibility most Muslims hate terrorists” meaning, you are a dumb fucking racist asshole and impervious to logic and compassion.

At which he obviously exploded and his fragile ego turned into shards of sharpened coagulated bile because he responded “You are A TROLL you communist liberal TURD” which translates as You are SO bad my limited vocabulary has to be EMPTIED IN CAPITAL LETTERS to find words bad enough for you!

I responded, ever so wittily I thought, “bye” which meant “oh fuck I’ve done it again, forgot how impossible it is to interface with idiots”

Which is my way of virtue-signaling how smart I am compared with some poor anonymous inarticulate ill-educated redneck with anger-management issues; how calm I can be when presented with hysteria; and in fact what a smug bastard I am all round.

I have no doubt most of the horror people expressed online was utterly sincere. How could one listen to any of the stories about the victims without choking up? Every one of them so beautiful and innocent  in every meaning of that word.

And then, two days later, the political response. The hiatus was over – it was time for the election to resume. Like a lamb to the knife, his face beginning to lose its grandfatherly innocence and benevolence, Jeremy stepped to the microphone.  And as usual he shoved a big toe right up to his mouth and chewed on it. His intention was to mourn the dead and prove that, contrary to his appearance of benevolent grandpa handing sweets out to the little ones, he would be tough on terrorists.

Unfortunately for him, his inherent goodness and belief in the honesty and sincerity of other people’s hearts (we pinkies too often believe every person is a reflection of ourselves, idealistic, dreaming of a utopian solution, sincere in their beliefs even if they are wrong – or, of course, the exact opposite) meant he assumed it would be ok to be honest. Jeremeeeee! Politics is just NOT for honesty! So he pointed out that British foreign policy has a hand in manufacturing terrorists.

That’s like bearing one’s breast and lying down amongst hungry vultures.

So cute, so naive  so vulnerable!

He meant, of course, people stupid enough to listen to people stupid enough to spout hatred might be persuaded toward violence by accounts of drone strikes killing children. Or the West’s support of Israel.  Et al. Quite obviously true in my opinion. But never any excuse for murder. Which is also Jeremy’s opinion.

Anyone but JC could have predicted Saint Theresa and her attack dog the Daily May’s response. Leaping for the throat, she immediately accused him of blaming British foreign policy for the existence of terrorists. In other words, translation  she was implying that he is a peacenik radical pansy socialist wimp who probably supports the terrorists. After all, look at his support for the IRA! Which further means he is anti British!

All of which plays so well to her target market like a Pathetic Symphony, reinforcing perceptions and prejudices.

 

My heart sinks when I behold

How fastest to the bottom

Sinks solid gold

 

Caroline in the Rain

Today I stood with Caroline Lucas and twenty or thirty bewhiskered or matronly (or both) Greens on the Green. Parliament Green to hear her bemoaning the absence of green issues on the manifestos of the main parties. “The environment”, she opined, is the most important issue out of all of them” she said. “It out trumps Brexit, the Economy, it even out trumps Trump. Because while people are dying in Britain from pollution no one is yet dying from BREXIT, or from paying taxes. Well, not 40,000 people a year anyway”

Bad news Caroline. Bad news Jeremeeee! No-one ever succeeded in British politics by being sincere, or honest, or passionate, or cute.

 

Tuesday

And today JC lay down in front of the vultures again by going on to Women’s Hour without knowing all his figures. Fa f-sake, it’s just not possible to know all the figures! As an MOP (Member of the Public) said in a discussion on Channel 4, what is he, some schoolkid expected to know all the figures by rote? Hell yes. It’s not about knowing figures: it’s about having chinks in the armour for some reporter seeking a moment of glory to find and exploit. So I forgive you JC but millions won’t and that clip will be played and played. Compare it to Diane Abbott’s moments of memory lapse. Frankly she lost loads of credibility and all the Tories have to do next to undermine Labour is to wave her confused face in front of the voters with the caption, Labour Cabinet? Am I giving them ideas? Nah, no Tory would read my blog, they prefer Breitbart and Fox News.

 

Crowings and Conclusions

The winner of this round will be the Terrible Woman, the baleful Brexit, the torment of Trump and the end of civilisation as we almost knew it. Sorry for the gloom but I’m enjoying it. Firstly, it will provide a bonanza of ITYSOS (I Told You Sos), a major opportunity for Virtue Signaling, by crying out about it; and finally, before all the shit hits all the Mayflies, I’ll probably be outta here. Ok, I admit, I love you and I’m hurting for you.

 

 

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