Sums

Following the great day of reckoning (appropriate that it should have been April Fools' Day) yesterday, we have - yet again - the patronising gimmick of asking a minister to live the life of a person in need. We've seen this before, seen it with homelessness, seen it as a TV show conceit, seen it to death, and it has done nothing to inform or enlighten the debate. These days, with the continued depressing debasement of any and all serious discussion, we are as far away from enlightenment as it is possible to be.

Regardless of facts, the crusade continues; savings or cuts, debt or deficit, tax or penalty. I have written about the Quiet Man before, and the facts of his life are there for all to see, but once again he is - incredibly - central to the way that this country operates. He talks in high-minded fashion about benefit dependency, and alludes to the moral duty of providing opportunities for people to escape from this trap. Iain Duncan Smith, personal wealth (mostly from public speaking engagements) estimated at £1,000,000, with an annual salary of £134,565, married to the daughter of 'The Commander' - Baron Cottesloe - moralises to the nation about a culture of entitlement and this vile hypocrisy is reduced to a stupid, pointless challenge to him to live for one week only on £53. What will this achieve? Sweet Fanny Adams. IDS is lucky to be where he is - in his rented cottage on the father-in-law's country estate, is lucky that his connections and a few cleverly crafted bits of misinformation on his CV allowed him to enter the echelons of privilege which make our scepter'd isle what it is. Just as the proverbial and apocryphal dole scrounger is unlucky to be wherever (s)he is, trying to make the best life they can while everything conspires to push their faces deeper into the mud.

But what of the facts? They are notoriously difficult to track down, because everyone puts their own gloss on the screeds of numbers pumped out each day, every vested interest finds one or other statistic to reinforce their agenda. What we do know is that the welfare bill is largely made up of payments to those of pension age, and that it is a huge number, growing all the time as we live longer and accrue more illnesses thanks to this ageing process and the lives we lead, the poisons we are fed (voluntarily and involuntarily) in the modern world, and the mountains of shit we belch and vomit into the environment every day. None of these inconvenient truths are mentioned by Mr Duncan Smith or his cohorts because many of the above-mentioned group are perceived to hold the power of election over them.

We also know that many of those in receipt of housing benefit are working, and that most of these people are also in receipt of tax credits to make up for the fact that the wages they are paid are not adequate to provide a living. Thus large companies are effectively supported by government money so that they can continue to pay wages below decent levels. Already we have a strong rebuttal to the general meaningless noise emitted by those in Whitehall: that there is some huge money sucking monstrosity of The Unemployed draining valuable resources in a time of general penury. This is clearly not true. However, IDS and others continue to peddle their egregious guff, ploughing on with no heed for the voices raised against them. Even more galling, the gulf between scum like him and the increasing numbers of poor people grows wider by the day, yet he has the nerve to preach about how everyone has a duty to work harder.

People in receipt of Income Support (how insidious is the use of language?) are now expected to pay towards their council tax, and in some cases this amounts to just over £1 a week. Not facts necessarily this time, but an educated guess: the cost of collecting these monies will easily outweigh the value of the sums collected - even in cases where people have both the ability and the will to pay. How much does it cost to calculate the required payment, how much to input the data on to a computer, and how much to print the sheets out before posting them to each claimant? If we factor in the guaranteed prosecutions for non-payment (remembering that such non-payment is a criminal, not civil offence) then the cost of administration will soar, making the whole process unworkable, meaningless and self-defeating. But who cares about shit like that?

Flipped

Up and down Green Lanes. For family reasons, I was unable to watch the first half, so I missed both of the first two Rag goals, but I did catch City's replies and the ludicrous free kick which so cruelly ended it. In the lead-up, I kept seeing bookies ads saying that they would refund all bets if Van Persie scored, so it was almost inevitable, even if it did happen in the crucial closing minutes. Always likely to be 'one of those matches' it certainly didn't let anyone down in terms of drama and excitement. For a while, I dared to dream that we would get a  penalty in the 93rd minute and stuff Sir Alex's mind games down his throat. But no.

Much could be said about whether there should have been a free kick at all, though there wasn't a massive protest about it, and it was given, so little point in bemonaing that. Once it had been awarded, if there had to be any one player to blame, it would be Nasri of course. I didn't get to see Mario's contribution either, because I arrived at the screen just as Carlos was brought on in his stead, but opinion seems to be (largely) that Bobby made a mistake in starting him in place of the plucky Argentine. Some City fans on Twitter were saying that Balotelli had been hard done-by, and he put in a good shift, but I can't comment on that. Tevez looked pretty up for it I thought, and his presence did seem to galvanise us into piling a bit of pressure on the Rag twats. As for Nasri, I've said it before and I'll say it again: not good enough! Undeniably an extremely talented player, he fails to put in a shift all too often, seeks the Hollywood pass, or the YouTube showreel highlight, and then waggles his leg while sheltering behind Dzeko in the defensive wall. Maybe (another lowlight I failed to see) if Vincent hadn't gone off injured, we might not have conceded the second, and maybe there are too many maybes. These titanic matches sometimes seem to have their own unstoppable momentum, played out like King Lear to a terrible conclusion - almost elemental in character.

After they scored at the end, there was a surreal quality to events; a confusion of images as Ferdinand started pulling his shirt up and then stopped, seemingly overcome with the emotion of it all, while everyone in the pub (Rag and Blue together) laughed; and then there's blood trickling down his cheek, the Rag players are all legging it towards Hart's goal and the final whistle blows. Heart rates start to slow down and the hateful world gradually swims back into focus. The hero lies dead at centre stage and the curtain slowly billows down in silence.

Shuffle

Now that the natural order in Westminster has been restored, the Coalition can really get down to business. I'm hearing figures of between 80 and 94 (!) % of cuts still to come, so there will be some tears before bedtime, is all I can say. The silence of Miliband and crew is testament enough to the fact that the established order has no answer to this mire we're in, and we look set to follow Greece down the road to abject poverty, 6 day weeks and foraging in the woods.

Yet I fail to see how promoting that little turd Jeremy Hunt can be defended by anybody, even (especially) the deranged kleptocrats currently in charge. Finding out that he supports homeopathy was just another reason to despise him. Not to mention his vote on shortening the abortion time to 12 weeks. Chris Grayling, he of the unpaid youth work thanks to buying a drink from an Aussie barman, is another fucking cunt. That's all the incisive political comment I can muster at this point. Only the brief joy of Osborne getting booed at the Paralympics leavened the recent dark mood.

Said Paralympics on C4 is almost unwatchable, sad to say. Frigging adverts every two or three minutes mean that it's just so stuttering, and you lose the thread of the events. There have been (and are) some good presenters and pundits - Clare Balding is excellent as ever, and I like Ade Adepitan - so it's a shame I think that it's ended up like that, but they (like everyone else in this bright future of ours) have to make money, dont they? Also disappointing is that C4 don't have that cool moving yellow world record bar in the swimming, which marks it down from the superb BBC coverage. I'll be at the Olympic Park myself tomorrow, so perhaps first hand experience will help to change my perception.

Football is football, and City are more like the City we know and love. Defensively, we've been terrible, and clearly needed quite a few of those deadline day signings to bolster us up. I won't comment on any of them till I've seen them play, but will say a few words about the performances I have seen. Tevez has been great - full of energy and desire - and if Kun hadn't been injured, I believe more end product would have been forthcoming. We should have put 5 past QPR in the first 20 minutes, but almost paid dearly for switching off and letting them come at us. Dzeko had loads of the ball on Saturday and worked hard, but his touch and finishing let him down too many times. Silva was tired and ordinary looking at first, but showed a good deal more after half time. Lescott has regressed to the player he was before last season, and the rest of the back line (even including Vinny to a point) appear nervous, slow and out of touch with each other. Hart (with the exception of a good save from Andy Johnson) hasn't been excellent...

I could go on, but I won't. Seven points in the bag and some potentially exciting new players, as well as Agüero hopefully back soon (don't let him play for Argentina please!) and we've got to be optimistic. In any case, we've had some cracking games, and you can't ask for more than that.

Cash in the bush

First of all, a small apology for slagging off City. A couple of good goals and a nice win rounded off the Austrian visit nicely. Now it's off to China and Arsenal, and I really do appreciate the updates from @MCFC, especially when I have no other means of keeping in contact with the boys. Now let's get the Van Persie thing over with, shall we? So, on to today's rant.

Reluctant as I am to fuel this specious 'debate' about the 'morality' of cash-in-hand payments, I do think the whole thing illustrates the way in which politism - or journalics if you prefer - operates today.

A junior minister is asked a question about cash payments (knowing that his bullshit will be picked up and propagated by what passes for the Press in this country) and responds in a way which will deflect attention from the meat and potatoes of the argument. Everyone then starts banging on and on about it as if it really mattered, while conveniently ignoring the truly egregious tax dodging of, for example, Vodafone. It all then ends up at the top, and Cleggeron are asked if they ever did it, while Boris of course can't keep his snooty snout out of anything with headlines in. The intriguing thing is how (I believe) these fuckers and their PR handlers will respond to such a question. They will not consider whether or not to answer truthfully, but will instead assess the risks of lying, and of being found out.

Morality - in the fiduciary sense - is the order of the day. Tax avoiders, benefit cheats, unworthy bank bonus collectors - everyone must somehow justify their earnings, and if they have been found wanting in this moral balance, then they must return their ill-gotten gains from whence they came. So, Cameron, Clegg, Boris and all must agree with the Rt. Hon. Mr Gauke in his assessment of paying plumbers (or whoever) in cash, and yet must admit to having done so themselves. Everyone, right and left, seems to share the view that the guy is talking pure, unadulterated bollocks.

Surely the real question of morality should be posed on the dusty plains of Afghanistan, where Mr Obama's secret agents bung dollar bills at local warlords, not in David Cameron's bathroom?

Creep

With startling chutzpah (given that he is still under the Leveson microscope) Cameron releases a Sunday statement about the 'something for nothing' culture in our society, and issues dark threats about the removal of housing benefit for those under the age of 25. It is obvious to all that this is a continuation of the cut cut cut agenda currently in place, and - as so many in the Graun have been saying - we've only really seen the beginning of it. We are not yet, despite the best efforts of the ruling elite, and I'm sure many young people would take exception, quite in the same handcart as Greece or Spain, but it won't be long now before th dogma of austerity destroys the last vestiges of hope.

There is no recognition of the fact that there are no jobs, no attempt to address some of the root causes of the problems faced by so much of Europe, such as:

the appalling lack of affordable housing while properties lie empty; the ridiculously inflated value of property in the first place; the fact that the real beneficaries of the HB payments are private landlords; the truth that most people claiming HB are in work, and are clearly not being paid a wage to enable them to live a decent life. None of that. Just another dig at the feckless poor, another petty grab for the resources of those who already have the least to give, straight out of the mouth of a privileged, born into riches millionaire who spends his days allocating jobs for the boys.

I feel mightily sick to my stomach.

I love Tony!

Education has been a burning subject lately, both nationally, and in the close confines of my own family circle. My eldest has just been through the GCSE selection process, and the whole evening was quite an eye-opener for me. Apparently, and perhaps I should have been - but wasn't - aware, the Coalition has introduced something called the 'E-Bac', or English Baccalaureate. It is (according to the DfE) not a qualification in itself; rather, it seeks to ensure grade 'C' or higher passes in subjects which are perceived as having more value than others. Namely: English; maths; history or geography; the sciences; and a modern language. The E-Bac was introduced to counter the steep rise in the take-up of vocational subjects (one assumes woodwork, hairdressing and such) especially among the lower income sections of society, which means that poor CT kids are not getting a fair crack of the whip when it comes to the Russell Group or a spell as an intern at Conservative Central Office. As a result, they become neets or stack shelves for benefit plus expenses for the rest of their worthless existence.

My daughter's school is one of the shiny new Academies, and as such embraces wholeheartedly any bilge the current crop of fuckwitted Ministers spew out. It is, additionally, a faith school. Nuff said. I have been impressed and surprised by the obvious wealth of resources in the place, and by the enthusiasm of the staff, even if they do seem a bit like drones, all power dressing and watches. My own references for teachers have always been along the lines of frayed cord jackets smelling of pipe smoke, tired cynicism a la Mrs Krabappel, and (with some notable exceptions - I'm looking at you, Mr and Mrs Waites) a strong leaning towards the Left. A bit like The History Man without the sex. Anyway, before nostalgia carries me too far away from the point of this ramble, I find the earnestness and sheer corporate feel of the school somehat overwhelming. Apparently, Business Studies is one of the most popular optional GCSE choices, and the fear of many parents is palpable as they strive to give their kids some kind of toehold on the future.

Worst of all, amidst this desperate grasping for a life, is the cold hearted cynicism of people like Michael Gove. In a tough field, he is a close contender for the vilest man in Westminster. His track record of a warehouse full of bibles and his refusal to include homophobic religious ranting aimed at schoolkids as discriminatory is bad enough. Now, we see just how cosy he has been with the Dirty Digger, seemingly lunching with the old goat and Rebekah Wade on an almost daily basis while Murdoch was laying his plans for a money spinning private education business. Given the most recent Leveson stuff, surely a thorough examination of just how close the Secretary of State for Education and Rupert and his boys were (are...) would be in order? Just the one quote (October, 2004) from Gove, referenced in the title of this post, is enough for me:

"I can't hold it back anymore. I love Tony!"

Although we mustn't forget that he is a millionaire who paid his mother-in-law thousands of pounds of expenses cash while flipping his homes. This is the kind of twat that is setting educational policy for fuck's sake. It has to stop.

So, on to the important lesson doled out to a thoroughly abject Blackburn Rovers, who were turned over easily after a slightly obdurate opening half hour. The team is looking good, with our attacking options as fluid and exciting as I think they have ever been. Bolton to come, and I'm always reluctant to tempt fate, but that should be another 3 points in the bag. Bloody United old boys staying the pace with another last minute clincher against the Canaries. Still looks as if the title's going all the way to the wire.

Poverty of Ideas

Props to Wikipedia of course, for the picture

Another sign that incompetence, graft and downright greed are no barrier to political success as we watch the latest disgraceful goings-on in Westminster over the Welfare Reform Bill. Almost as bad as the fact that people seem to be sucking this shit up and boosting the bloody Coalition. FFS!!

“We know who these families are,” said Iain Duncan Smith on the Today programme. “We have been identifying them, and will be working with them to ensure that the impact of these changes are managed in the best possible way.”


It's all very Kafka-esque. How have the Department for Work and Pensions managed to pull off this amazing feat? What does it actually mean? Perhaps they will find these families among the ‘homeless’ who are sharing rooms in Major Smith’s (‘Duncan’ is not a family name, and so he is not double-barrelled. It is just one of his given names, and typical of the kind of twat he is that he goes around using it) fantasy world. A world which is not inhabited by such organisations as Shelter, who surprisingly have a somewhat different take on the definition of homeless. As far as I can see, with Clegg et al running around peddling the usual mendacious nastiness since the Lords and bishops bared their teeth again, the government will offer training programmes to – wait for it – help get people into work (!) as a sweetener once they have lost their homes and have finished queuing up at the soup kitchen for the kids’ dinners.

He then went on to pronounce that poor people should not have large families if they cannot afford to. As a Catholic, with a stated desire to promote conventional (married) family life, perhaps he would like to suggest an appropriate way for these families to do as he suggests? I believe that (unless a man is diagnosed with HIV, of course, when the use of perforated condoms may be considered, though of course this may not be entirely successful in limiting the size of the family) there could be some dispensation for the rhythm method among the mandarins in the Vatican City. Failing that, a sterilisation programme could be implemented. It almost worked in the Third Reich after all.

Maybe his educational background at the GEC Marconi employees’ college gives him an insight his Eton/Oxbridge colleagues so sorely lack. Or, being married to the daughter of a baron (though Baroness Betsy was of course handsomely paid for 'working' as his diary secretary) and with four children of his own to which he can leave his considerable fortune, he is uniquely qualified to preach on poverty and responsible family planning. Or possibly, he's just a fucking cunt.

Anger

Came into work boiling today, despite being liberally doused with rain. I wanted to toss off this piece in the heat of that anger, but ended up on the phone addressing the issue for half an hour, so now I'm here, retrospectively annoyed, tapping away.

My thoughts were to experiment with anger and writing, to see how it might come out, and although there is a lingering simmer of pissed off-ness, most of the initial seething has subsided, so that experiment will have to wait another day. The subject of my ire: the boss, of coss! Standing in the pissing rain, waiting for a bus, I checked my BlackBerry, to find there a message accusing me (to cut a long story short) of poor customer service, albeit through a member of my team.

'For fuck's sake!' I hissed, as I slopped through a puddle into the mass of steaming commuters on the 24, my mood immediately sent nosediving by this stupid message. Head down after I disembarked, taking the incessant heavy drizzle full in the face on the short walk to the office, I mulled over my response. Temporarily toying with writing something along the lines of:

'Do you think we're all fucking stupid or something? How dare you accuse me of this, when I only found out about it late last night, and have already told you that I would investigate? How fucking DARE you, BITCH?!', I nonetheless didn't bother, and instead penned an anodyne 'I'll look into it' before making a phone call. I'm glad to say that I was vindicated by the call, and have heard nothing in response as yet, although the danger of course is always that some other attack (and let's face it, everyone has at least one vulnerability in their work. If the powers that be really don't like you, it can be difficult to avoid an inevitable crash) will mount. Let's wait and see.

So now that's over with, time for a bit of football talk. Though not a good win, a win for all that on Monday night against an anaemic Wigan side. Dzeko, despite scoring, still looking more of a donkey than a world class striker. Aguero unlucky again, with a fantastic work ethic, great speed and strength. De Jong alarmingly short of his previous form, and really should have been a more comfortable scoreline, even without Yaya. So it's on to face the magnificent Spurs at the weekend, and do I spy (geddit?) a cracking match? My prediction, 2-2, which wouldn't make me too angry, or perhaps 3-2 City, though perhaps old 'Arry will be taxed (geddit???!!) by events at Southwark Crown Court the following day.

Drag out the Dickens

One more quick blast while I sit here waiting for the right time to leave the office.

As Christmas draws ever closer, I wonder what David Cameron will be doing on the big day? No doubt (as this is now as traditional as sprouts and the Queen's speech) he will need to be photographed visiting church with his wife and kids. Doubtless Nick Clegg will have to do the same with the lovely Miriam. Much as I loath the whole lot of the bastards, you have to admire the sheer bloody-mindedness of those who choose the path of power. There can be extremely few moments of genuine down time when they can pick their noses or scratch their arses without being photographed or written about. I suppose though that a few years of such intrusion is worth the effort for the enormous payoff that results at the end of it.

Will it be back to Number 10 for a spot of turkey and stuffing for the Cams? Or will he be huddled over his boxes, picking up the phone to Osborne and Obama, monitoring the secure emails (I'm assuming that telegrams are no longer in use, though the FCO were still using them while I was at Defra just a couple of  years back) flying around about Pakistan, Iran, Iraq, North Korea... Or will he pay a visit to some Mother's Union meeting in Witney - another photo opportunity to be flickered on to the nation's TV screens at 5.30, just before the Celebrity Come Dancing special?

Whatever it is he's up to, I'm sure he and his cronies have got plenty up their sleeves for us all in 2012, and it is with bated breath that we await his pronouncements. God rest ye merry gentlemen. Let nothing ye dismay.

Responsibility

Image courtesy of Lola Dupre

Dave has spoken.  After revealing the contingency plan to deploy water cannon against the flat screen stealers (otherwise known as 'scum' by people who are usually quite rational) he states:

"Its [sic] all too clear that we have a big problem with gangs in our country. For too long there has been a lack of focus and a complete lack of respect shown by these groups of thugs." Is he referring to his friends at News International?

"...there are pockets of our society that are not just broken, but frankly sick." Does he mean the Metropolitan Police? The Conservative Party?



"For me the root cause of this mindless selfishness is the same thing I have spoken about for years: it is a complete lack of responsibility in parts of our society." Would this lack of responsibility be the result of an example set by the ruling classes, one wonders? By the slavish adherence to market values and the culutre of winner take all sod-you-mate which drives so much of government thinking? Is he not part of society himself, and therefore a major contributor to the 'mindless selfishness' he so casually talks abayt?
 
"People allowed to feel that the world owes them something, that their rights outweigh their responsibilities and that their actions do not have consequences. Well they do have consequences."


Is a wealthy, Eton and Oxbridge educated white man who finagled his way into a position of power after lurking around such luminaries as Michael Green, able to say such a thing with a straight face? I mean, really! Think about Andy Coulson and Rebekah Wade for a minute before you start talking about rights and consequences.

"We need to have a clearer code of values and standards that we expect people to live by and stronger penalties if they cross the line." These values and standards will of course not apply to DC or any of his cronies. We can be sure of that. What penalties will these fuckers have to face for screwing the entire country over?

"Restoring a stronger sense of responsibility across our society in every town in every street in ever estate is something I am determined to do." Well, that's a relief. Thanks Dave. Now fuck off.

All quotes taken from the Graun website.

All hell

To the Post Office yesterday morning to sort out a Zip card for my daughter. All human life is there - especially on Holloway Road. We started to wait in a queue for change for the Photo Me machine before realising that we would need more than our lifetimes in order to get anywhere near the desk, and so (after exchanging a few good-natured words with an old lady) went to a nearby newsagent to get the change, returning a few moments later to finish the photo session.

It was after we joined the main queue to submit the form that the fun really began. Really, I've been in worse Post Office queues in my time; although only 3 counters were open, the line was moving reasonably quickly, and there were about four people in front of us.

'Cashier number 8 please,' came the jaunty voice from the machine. The man at the front moved quickly forward, but then a middle-aged black woman suddenly appeared out of nowhere and stepped up to the free window.

'Excuse me,' said the man incensed, 'There's a queue here!' and he gestured with his arm behind him. The black woman said nothing but pointed at a sheet of A4 paper stuck to the window, which informed all that this was a Passport Check and Send window, and as such customers were given special exemption from joining the queue.

'Cashier number 7 please.' The man moved to the adjacent free window and said:

'Don't show me that, you stupid prat! It's not fair, I've been standing here for 20 minutes!'
'You're a prat!' said the woman, 'Read the sign.'
'I read the sign.'
'Shut up!'
'You shut up!'
'Fuck off!'
'You fuck off!'
'You fuck your mother!'
'You're a cunt!'
'You're a cunt! Look in the mirror, you'll see a cunt!'

This went on for several minutes, and surprisingly, given the vehemence of the words being spoken, the two who were arguing did not seem to be nearing an escalation to physical violence. It was almost as if this were a game that they were enjoying playing. The people in the Post Office looked on with differing reactions. Some were amused and some were shocked, and yet nobody did anything about it. The man finished his business and walked quickly out, while the woman continued her check and send.

As we left, the children said to me:

'Daddy, what's a cunt?'

Libertarian

Today I came across a man named Charles Murray. Maybe I should have heard of him before, but I had not. If you are not familiar with his work, I will do my best to illuminate you, but be warned - it's strong stuff.

He is (please feel free to skip this part if you do know about him) an American social 'scientist', famous for a book he co-wrote on the role of IQ in determining the social standing of individuals, who now gives evidence at Senate hearings in the US, writes op-ed pieces for various publications and generally gets his old face around the place a lot. As far as Mr Murray goes, my cherry was bust reading this unbelievable piece of shit (thanks to user 'Klang' btw) published in the (London) Times. I found out about the piece via the Guardian CiF comments, and it has genuinely scared me. I would urge you (Murdoch and all) to read it, if only to believe it.

The discussion was all around the new Coalition austerity measures in relation to Housing Benefit; how the new - unavoidable of course - steps announced by the Coalition will only mean (oh, really...?) increased poverty for the already poor. I am always shocked (though I really shouldn't be) by the vitriolic outbursts of some of the commenters on the Graun boards, as if I ought to expect something a little more refined in this particular arena, and that the real nasty shit should be reserved for the Daily Mail, but that's free speech (as well as ideological Coalition implanting) for you I suppose. But, amidst all the fucking bullshit around 'I don't get any help, so why should you?' and 'immigrants are living in Mayfair mansions' was a link to the Charles Murray piece in the Times.

Effectively - and I will get there - Charlie is saying that an underclass exists, and this is a fact of nature. An underclass will always exist, but we (as a civilised society) have to learn to deal with it in the most effective way. For him, this means three things:

1) Make life as hard as hell for the 'deviants';

2) Move 'em out!

2) Lock 'em up! (if they don't conform to the rules or move out)

The (some would say significant) social and (nobody can argue with this) financial cost of imprisonment is worth the net effect of removing from the sight of decent achievers the unedifying images of single mothers, low level crime and graffiti.

Now for the scary part. This would seem to be the driving force behind most of the Coalition policies.

Amiright? I may be, but who gives a fuck about me?

Mediaeval and Chinese

I am a patient man. I always try to do what is asked of me with good grace, no matter how unreasonable the request may be. I am - I must add - also fairly philosophical about life's little setbacks, and tend to think that if it doesn't kill me or make me pregnant then it can't be so bad.

However, of late, I have been asked to carry out a task which is positively byzantine in its capacity to inflict suffering on the human psyche. What makes it so insufferably horrendous is that it WILL NOT GO AWAY. Usually, when shit happens, which it does with alarming frequency, a resolution (or not) is found, there is an element of navel-gazing, and we move on. But not in this case. Like an incarnation of Nosferatu, the damned thing will not lie down and take it like an, er, man.



I will essay a precis - if you will forgive my Frenchness - of the current situation.

I (along with many of my colleagues) have been asked to provide verification that every single employee on my estate (and I certainly do NOT mean to imply by that that I am landed gentry - in case you were wondering) is allowed to work in this sceptered isle. It has taught me that all immigrants have to jump through some hoops if they want to get on the books, and certain immigrants have to whistle dixie whilst balancing a kipper on the end of their nose and executing a perfect triple salko into the bargain. All so that they can be granted the privilege of pushing a mop around an office.

Like many things over the past few months, the project has been handled with a startling level of ineptitude. Nobody told us what was going on until we were already overdue for providing the information, and I have received requests for the same information - about the same people - on several occasions. The guy who runs the cleaning team has - to my certain knowledge - sent said information in some cases 5 or 6 times!

Needless to say, it goes down awfully well with the employees when they are told that their personal details - including copies of passports, bank details, NI numbers, etc., have simply vanished. It doesn't seem to make a difference if the documents are sent by snail mail or emailed, the next day I am guaranteed to receive a spreadsheet which tells me that they have not been received.



But what can you do? We are told that the Board are paying close attention to this particular fiasco, shit scared as they are of carrying the can for something. It is utterly soul destroying.