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Showing posts from May, 2013

Iblis' Idle Hands

Over the weekend I called Trevor Kavanagh, political propagandist in the pay of Murdoch at the Sun, a cunt. Gladly too.
I did this, like all good social heroes, hiding behind the anonymity of Twitter.
I did this because of his comments regarding radicalism and welfare, drawing a tenuous and fictitious link between living on benefits and Muslim extremism. Kavanagh commented on BBC Any Questions – to a dearth of disapproval – facilitated laziness that directly led to radicalism as people spent their days on laptops (who has the money for a laptop? Not me!) Reading extremist websites. This is religious ideology as ugly as anything found in the Koran: the devil makes work for idle hands. Not my hands; my hands are free from the influence of a puritanical superstition.
Could it be that people on the fringes of society, as those on benefits are (particularly Muslim claimants I would think), are more likely to be radicalised. This isn’t because they get money from the state, it’s because t…

War and Churnalism

I can’t comprehend this world sometimes. Recent events have proven once again that we are living in a society way down the rabbit hole. I didn’t hear about the murder – you know the one – until late in the day. I ended up watching the footage on a youtube piece without realising just how unpleasant it was (and without adequate warning – for all the good that would have done).
It’s bad enough that religion lends itself to the ease with which some can resort to the most heinous of actions. These are people who are clearly already quite far gone. But it’s another thing entirely to comprehend the media reaction to all of this. Every newspaper come the following morning screamed at me in every shop or newsstand like the anger of the killers themselves. The footage was freely available as was the subsequent ‘exclusive’ of the police shooting that followed, made worse as I only heard the audio version on the BBC which leaves everything to the imagination.
It is like a horror film, except t…

Time's Up

After several months of waiting, today I’ve heard back from ATOS. I have a date for the WCA on the 4th of June. I filled my ESA50 back in January and it’s taken them 4 months to process it. I could try and change the appointment for an earlier time of the day as I’d much rather be the first appointment than be stuck in the waiting room surrounded by complete strangers and inevitably delayed. I have no doubt that the time I’ve been given (2:55 in the PM) will not be the time I’m seen.
Now begins two and a half weeks of stress and dread. I wish I didn’t feel that way, but then if that were the case I wouldn’t be in this situation of course. I have to travel to the appointment (I won’t tell them how) and sit in an environment I don’t feel safe in – despite the likelihood of the others present being even more dysfunctional. If these appointments could be carried out at, say, my local surgery, that would be much more amenable, but that’s part of the experience.
It is a sad and strange in…

Isolating The Weak

I do not want to dwell on the particulars of the murder of Stephanie Bottrill for two reasons: firstly it feels somewhat distasteful to bandy about the name of someone I have never met, and secondly because suicide is not painless. I use the word murder quite deliberately; austerity is being inflicted deliberately to cold effect. These people know what they are doing and incidents such as this as merely collateral damage to them. I’m afraid that is unacceptable; there must be some accountability and so I use a deliberately emotive and provocative term. Murder.
However, that aside, what is beginning to become clear is that when incidents such as these occur it is very easy to traduce them by way of mental instability. Mrs Bottrill must have had something wrong with her, specifically something psychological – mental – for her to take this course of action. This is reasoned out using the same mob tactics and fallacies that are always used: other people aren’t killing themselves, and oth…


I can’t believe how angry I get these days.
We have no voice in this society. No representation; it’s a closed shop. But beyond the predictable hatred of the ruling elite which no one can be surprised by lies the fulcrum of the problem: the media. If we can crack that, then half the battle would be won. But this is a propaganda war as much as it is anything else and the mainstream media not only ignores issues but frames discussions, using the lie of ‘balance’ against us.
It is a lie: they will invite on two people on opposite sides of the debate under the guise of balance when the truth is that one party is simply a bulwark for the status quo that the media then reinforces. This is exacerbated by the choice of speakers: it is very easy to bring on someone strong willed and opinionated by claiming they want to provoke robust discussion, and then offset them with a feeble and inept opposition voice; perhaps someone not used to speaking. For example, I saw an episode of the Alan…

This Isn't A Terribly Exciting Post

Just went to the doctors to see about rebooking an appointment to get tested for ADD/Aspergers/Whatever – it’s a great big nebulous area that no one seems to understand. Unfortunately I had to see a different doctor because of how badly organised my surgery is, but she was ok. It’s always nice when you see a pretty lady doctor; takes the edge off!
I still have to see my regular GP; my sick note will end in a month’s time. I tried to book an appointment afterwards only to find that, again, he’s on holiday. I have no problem with doctors having a break for heaven’s sake, but I seem to only ever want to see him when he’s doing just that (or moving house). Not only that but because he’s only available one day a week he’s in huge demand. I couldn’t even book an appointment for the following week because, despite advances in modern computer systems and IT, his diary doesn’t go that far. I can buy a paper diary that lasts 365 days, but the admin software at the surgery thinks the limit of t…


According to the Telegraph, GP’s are writing sick notes for people that aren’t sick!

Now this is based on a survey of 4100 and roughly 80% of them said they had done this. They don’t mean sick notes of course; they mean the ‘fit’ notes that instead are meant to tell what a person can do. So for example a person that’s unable to walk could answer the telephone. But if he can’t get access to public transport (or he’s lost his motability car thanks to DLA changes) he’s got no chance of doing that job. In other words, it doesn’t represent the reality or the totality of a person’s experience. I for example could be helped to work from home, but that isn’t an option. Instead it is extrapolated that if I can work from home, I can work; period.

It’s not a huge survey and of course being reported in the popular press means it suffers from spin and an agenda. However I can understand the point being made. But what are doctors to do? If someone who has been sanctioned and left penniless turns up…


Even archive footage of Marlon Brando on the radio in the early hours couldn’t help me get back to sleep last night. Instead I drift off at gone 4am and wake up a few hours later feeling absolutely awful.
I’ve made an appointment to see the GP (a different one given how poorly organised they are now). He, or someone, needs to understand that I cannot function in this society. Once again I’ve tried to find somewhere local that can undertake neuro diverse diagnoses. I should have attended the appointment last year, but I couldn’t deal with travelling to the venue. Now it seems there is somewhere more local – or so they tell me. I have to assume it’s true.
I cannot continue under this system; the friction is such that no claim can linger. Even people with lifelong conditions – including soldiers that have lost limbs – are being re-examined. The idea being that they might have ‘recovered’. Though my condition isn’t anywhere near as debilitating, I believe it to be life long; it is how I…

Easy Mistakes Made Easier With Universal Credit

This morning I went for a walk before stopping off at the post office; the last best hope locally for cash as we can’t have nice things like cash points in villages without the likes of Tesco. I had checked my bank balance over the last couple of days since doing my shopping on Wednesday to see if the debit card payment had cleared. Even though I’m not particularly stupid I find keeping track of card payments a pain given how each interaction can take its own sweet time to clear, regardless of venue. It seemed I had about £24 more than I thought – quids in! I had even considered going to town (not cheap on the bus at all). I treated myself to a baguette and a caramel slice yesterday from my good fortune!
After about five minutes I suddenly realised why I had that extra money – that was next week’s shopping budget. Had I gone out today, on top of yesterday’s culinary extravagance, I would have spent a few quid I would likely have irreversibly spent money better off saved.
This is how…

Social Security

Looking through the Universal Jobmatch site, as I do every day, I saw a cleaning job for 14 hours at the minimum wage: £86 a week. Is this my future? It’s not a job is it; 14 hours that won’t change (cleaning the local Tesco Express of all things) in a job that isn’t a career. I still can’t face doing it though, but who will accept that? It makes me sound like a baby thumbing his nose at a spoonful of mushy carrots – urgh!
That’s the nature of neuro diverse psychology; it was the same when I last worked, which was in a garden centre. I just couldn’t handle it, though it was full time. Funny how people are hounded into applying for work, no matter the cost, but nobody cares how little you get paid. There’s no negotiation on this: here are the jobs Universal Jobmatch says is available, times are tight (who’s fault’s that then?), so you have to get your brush down to Tesco and sweep the floor for a tiny sum of money you can’t possibly live on.
This is social security: people simply hav…