Wednesday, 24 June 2015

German Efficiency

Random anonymous quote from the internet:
The funny thing is, I've long suspected that the fetish for all things German is the means by which the post-war generations in places like Britain and the USA compensated for the fact that they could never measure up to the generation that won the war. A sort of "OK, they may have won, but really they weren't that good, they only won by numbers against a superior enemy. Also, I shall prove this to myself by buying a BMW."
It's true though, isn't it?

I've often wondered why British Leyland went down the tubes, while the equally inefficient Fiat and Renault survived. I think it very well may have been sacrificed in the service of the generational ego, a counterpart to the publication of Corelli Barnett's "The Desert Generals."

Also, this explains the weird resentment of Germany, unique to Britain, that lasted long after the War. It wasn't prompted by memories of the War itself (although these were used as ammunition), nor by Britain's diminished status in the world, but was a necessary concomitant of the boomers enlisting the Nazis to boost their generational ego. "German efficiency" was a double-edged sword, because although it could it be used to belittle the wartime generation, it did so by implying that all the generations of Britain were inferior together.

Friday, 12 June 2015

Music about music, musical standards, the record industry, and the general value of education:

Friday, 29 May 2015

I have to say that I'm really starting to admire Sepp Blatter, who must be a candidate for The World's Psychologically Strongest Man. I've always been intrigued by the unembarrassable, the Timmy Malletts, the Piers Morgans, every rapper ever. What tremendous freedom they must have from self-consciousness and shame. They are totally immune to social suicide and voodoo death.

Blatter is particularly impressive as he rightly makes a laughing stock of the ridiculous pseudo-sport that is Association Football, itself perhaps one of the greatest frauds that has ever been perpetrated on humanity - a "game" whose results are largely dependent on the whims of the match officials. One of the secrets of football's addictive appeal is that the referee and linesmen are the hidden "third team" that make the outcome of matches more unpredictable (and thus more exciting) than any other sport. The deliberate set-up of the pitch (many players, small goal) that ensures that matches are decided on the lowest score possible also increases the sense of arbitrariness (and thus compulsive frustration) that is inherent in the football experience. This arbitrariness is the reason why football uniquely resisted modern technology to assist refereeing decisions. The fairer it is, the less addictive it is. This arbitrariness is also why football fans are capable of only two emotions - schadenfreude or grievance.

I hope Sepp displays plenty of the former as he marches football forward into its deserving future.

Saturday, 9 May 2015

The Psychopathology of Progressive Politics

1. The people labour under the burden of a false consciousness.

2. We progressives do not labour under this burden.

3. Once the people are enlightened by progressive ideas, their false consciousness will evaporate like the morning dew.

4. Standing between we progressives and the people is a demiurge-complex of financial power, entrenched hierarchy and media propaganda.

5. Progressives of good faith, collectively coming together, can overcome this demiurge after a requisite level of struggle.

6. This struggle is so monumental that it is bound to encompass many grevious defeats.

7. Repeat.

Friday, 8 May 2015

Basically Tory country votes Tory shockah.

Prepare for an avalanche of articles from "progressives" that will explain the result using increasingly tortuous variations of the false consciousness trope (which is what "Capitalist Realism" is btw.)

But, as I've always said, the unpleasant truth is that the society we have is the one that the British people really want (Scotland being the honorable exception), and the ideology is as much bottom-up as top-down.

Or, to paraphrase Morris Berman, the British public do not have wool over their eyes. The wool is the eyes.

Wednesday, 25 March 2015

Events, Dear Boy

OK, here's the agenda from Carl:
Right, we are Wetherspooning. Here from 5
then I guess
The Rockingham arms at approx 7:30
then Hipster fun in New Cross at 9:30 ish
and a late nightcap in the Greenwich Wetherspoons from 11-ish
this won't work out of course. I don't have a smartphone, Phil doen't even have a mobile so hopefully we will meet up at some point. Bring anyone you like and remember we like meeting new people and have highly developed social skills.
Thrillingly, despite the fact that I spend an average of about 0.5 days a year in London, I've been to two of these pubs before.

The spirit of Bobby Byrd will be presiding over the event, ensuring that everything passes off positively, in the spirit of Krisslam.

Sunday, 8 March 2015

As you are all no doubt aware, Carl has been flyposting every available blog space with advance warning of The Event Of The Year, the mobile double combined launch and under-the-counter sales party for "No More Heroes?"/"Strangled" on 27th March. Carl is keeping the itinerary secret from me by putting it on Facebook, where I can't see it, but that just makes it more exciting as far as I'm concerned. I shall probably be lugging my 10 remaining author copies of "Strangled" down with me to sell during the event. The proceeds from the first sale will be spent on buying "No More Heroes?", the next five will cover my return train ticket to and from our glorious capital, and the remaining four will go to the same charity as Carl's.

Obviously this event is almost tailor-made to attract anti-structural activity, combining as it does alcohol, travel, The Stranglers, Conan The Barbarian, and a delicately plotted route between zones of internecine strife, so I will be invoking the blessings of The Almighty Kriss to ensure that it passes off smoothly. Let us start with a vignette from Kriss's favourite band (probably), the mighty Commodores, and their paean to Strong Women: