Time to End The Gong Show

For overseas readers, let me explain the British Honours system to you, in a nutshell;

It was all started by the monarchy, to dish out favours to ass-kissers (sometimes literally), henchmen, land-grabbers, warmongers and back-stabbing state officials. Refined in the early 20th century by David Lloyd George in WW1, who set up a sort of Turkish bazaar in honours, with knighthoods and medals for sale a la carte, depending on your donation to the Liberal Party.


Sir Phillip Green, former head of a retail group and all round nice guy

In the late 20th Century a class system was imposed on the honours system, which exists to this day. So for example, a wealthy donor to a political party  may receive a title, which allows them entry to the House of Lords, where they may vote to support the party which enobled them. Ruthless businessmen could also obtain honours like knighthoods, but they didn’t have to make a straightforward payment. No, the corruption is more subtle;

Rich celebs or business tycoons can purchase honours by writing off a few million in tax and donating to charities, or doing `good work’ and shouting about it in the press, like Jimmy Savile did for example, thus ensuring that their `service’ may be rewarded with an honour.


Jimmy Savile, friend of Margaret Thatcher, senior Police officers and BBC Directors. Can you see a pattern here?

Low class people could only receive basic bitch honours, such as an OBE, BEM or CBE – all these `gongs’ have the word Empire in them, which renders them worthless, as of course Britain has no empire nowadays. This class segregation continues in the 21st century. Someone who slaves away for 40 years helping homeless men find shelter, drink warm soup or avoid being set on fire by migrants, will get an MBE. Maybe. If they know the right people.

That’s how it works, and this is why it should end. The honours system, like so much else in Britain, rewards nepotism, chumocracy and virtue signalling over REAL humanitarian work. It is STILL a system which is inherently, almost brazenly, flawed by the influence of money, fame and donations to the `people who matter.’


Lynn Faulds-Wood. Someone doing the right thing and saying `No thanks’ to honours gongs

So all credit to Lynn Faulds-Wood, the former BBC presenter, who rejected an honour this December. And a tip of the hat also to Prof Phil Scraton, who point blank refused to have anything to do with a system of Oxbridge chums, time-serving Police & civil servants, plus corrupt politicians, all of whom kept a lid on the lies, the cover-up, the smear campaigns of Hillsborough, until the bitter end.

The final insult is to bestow honours on people like Victoria Beckham, or Anna Wintour – vile, fame-obsessed, manipulative women who treat anyone below their pay grade as essentially disposable, worthless.

Every year, the long list of failures, incompetent box-tickers and arse-crawling scum who infest the senior positions in the civil service, charity sector or political machinery of the Westminster bubble, also receive honours. This venal horse-trading, this sideshow of vermin in ermine, needs to end. It has no place in a meritocracy and that’s what Britain is – isn’t it?

It’s time that what you know – and what you do well – replaced who you know.

The Left Are Creating a Fascism That Doesn’t Exist

Spend an hour or two trawling Twitter and Facebook and you will soon find examples of supposed fascism in Britain. It’s `on the rise,’ according to the agreed narrative of the `Progressive’ Left, who see the ghosts of Oswald Mosley’s Blackshirts on every Northern street corner.

But is it?

Fascism in the 1920s and 1930s was a highly corporatist movement, which rejected free market capitalism, instead offering a curious mix of state funded grandiose projects such as autobahns and brutalist buildings, with the added bonus of invented jobs – often with a free uniform and a big stick – for the slow of understanding.

In that respect, 1930s fascism is EXACTLY the same as the Corbynista/Left’s ideology in terms of re-nationalising railways, dismantling cosy corporate cartels and ending austerity by reflating the economy via infrastructure projects. Their economic policy is identical in fact.

In some respects then, statist fascism is an idea which still has appeal for the hard Left today, although what has changed is the total rejection of nationalism by the Left. Flags are very bad, as we see here, where Lady Nugee kindly highlights the inherent racism of a red cross on a white background.


Nationalism Is a Dirty Word

What’s happened in the last decade or so is that nationalism, a belief in the self-determination of a nation state, has replaced fascism in the collective consciousness of the British Left.

The rise of UKIP was at first greeted with sneering mockery, and then a real fear and hatred, as it became obvious that many people in Britain wanted a brake on mass migration, and ultimate accountability to rest in London’s Parliament, not Brussels secretive meeting rooms and Commissioners Offices. This message of national sovereignty is completely at odds with the pro-internationalist, `Citizen of Nowhere’ ideology, which was started – perhaps as an ironic joke – by Tony Blair’s regime in the late 1990s.

So to criticise unlimited migration has become fascist. To object when men kill their own daughters if they refuse to marry their cousin, has become fascist. Those who suggest that convicted foreign criminals, or those who incite terrorist acts should be deported, is also fascist…and probably racist too. This is the new, 21st century, Lily Allen playground bully brand of politics, the language of Hate Not Hope.  All funded by millionaires, who refuse to pay tax as they’ve transferred that burden onto the UK working poor.

There can be no reasoned debate, no common ground or compromise, there is only one, authorised, world view.

Globalism rules. Those who disagree are automatically racists.

Dear Celebs & Politicians; Show Me The Fascist Movement In The UK


Thousands gather to hear Mosley at a BUF meeting in London 1934

Study this picture carefully, it shows a meeting of the British Union of Fascists in Hyde Park, 1934. There are thousands here, all gathered to hear Max Mosley’s ridiculous father, Oswald, pontificate on Britain’s ills, and how to solve them. I have NEVER, as in never, seen anything like that number of people in support of a quasi-militaristic party, such as the EDL or BNP. Even in the 70s heyday of the BNP, they were lucky to round up 40-60 pissed up skinheads at any given venue.

How do I know this? I was alive in the 70s; attended union picket lines, demos, CND rallies etc. There was no mass fascism/BNP movement back then, just a bunch of fruitcakes in bomber jackets and Doc Martens, looking for a fight.

So my 2017 message to the slightly sinister Brendan Cox, comedy writer Graham Linehan or celeb actor Michael Sheen is simple; show me the mass fascism movement in the UK, and I’ll gladly contribute to its demise. By  taking action, as well as tweeting virtue signals on Twitter.

Let’s all demonstrate outside their party HQ, picket their political rallies and out vote them at the ballot box. Unless you’re all busy doing PR events of course? But you know what, I can’t find that elusive British Fascist Party. If the best the Left can do is send a rent-a-mob to Nigel Farage’s house, or troll a sociopath’s anonymous account on Twitter, then you’ve lost the debate.

For politicians and their celebrity supporters to raise the false spectre of fascism in Britain, when it has long since been consigned to the history books, shows the weakness, the utter confusion amongst the Left. Instead of slinging mud, come up with a set of policies that offer UBI (Universal Basic Income), an infrastructure programme that is NATIONAL, not London biased, and finally – and most importantly – stand up to the real fascists of our times; Islamic State and all their tacit supporters within the Salafist and Wahhabi strands of Islamism.


Yazidi fighters last week, still waiting for a tweet of support from Emily Thornberry.

Those who would kill, or imprison, every LGBT person they could find, are fascists. The men who wish to subjugate women and force them to live almost medieval lives of segregation, or gang rape Yazidi women, are fascists. And those who would replace democracy, with theocracy, are likewise true oppressors and tyrants. To encourage the murder of an Ahmadi Muslim like newsagent Asad Shah, because he follows a different type of faith, is an ideology akin to 1930s fascism, an evil doctrine that demands compliance, submission, or offers only death to those who refuse. This thinking is wrong, utterly wrong – and the Left need to speak out against it.

If the Left cannot speak up for what is fundamentally right, good and true, or fight for cornerstones of a civilised society; freedom of thought, religion, atheism, sexual preference and gender quality, then it has lost its way completely.

And it will be extinguished at the ballot box.


Remainers Are Playing With Fire – If We Stay in the EU, Democracy Will Wither Away

Sounds over dramatic surely? Maybe so, but there is a wave of disenchantment, of sheer exasperation and mistrust, which politicians and Remainers would be wise to consider. The harsh truth is that most people in the UK do NOT vote and it’s worth looking at the reasons why so many people have simply given up on democracy.


The Brexit vote has stirred up a great deal of bitterness, on both sides, with the added twist of sour lemon added by the gloating SNP in Scotland, determined to stop Brexit for their own ends. Then there’s Ulster, keen to keep on receiving EU development/regeneration subsidies and no friend of Westminster government, for obvious historical reasons. That anger will be intensified if Brexit never happens – and I don’t believe it will, mainly becasue the EU needs our £350m per week subs. Public anger is one thing, and will dissipate, but the legacy will be a rapid decline in voter turnout in every election. People will then see that their votes count for nothing – a majority result only matters when it’s the `right’ result, as Tony Blair might put it.

Look at the decline in General Election turnout over the last 25 years or so. It peaked at 77% in 1992, as Kinnock’s Labour party narrowly failed to win power. There was a low point in 2001 when Blair’s regime held an iron grip, with a 59% turnout of the electorate. Since then things improved but in 2015 ONE THIRD of all voters couldn’t be arsed voting, even though you can easily – and fraudulently – do it by post.

Two recent by-elections in Sleaford and Richmond also highlighted how it takes a bitter clash of personalities, like Khan vs Goldsmith, to engage voters. Sleepy Sleaford, saw a measly 37% turnout. Yes, almost two thirds of voters thought the whole thing was a waste of time.



Hitler took power via the ballot box, not using a gang of brown-shirted, beered up racists storming the Reichstag with guns. The lower the voter turnout the greater danger we face  because extremist candidates – of all political and religious persuasions – can then seize an opportunity to be democratically elected.

If we look at politics in the UK over the last 20 years, we see a fragmentation happening, the collapse of the old two-party system. The Tory vote started to split into UKIP and traditional `one nation’ Conservatives about a decade ago. The Labour Party was wiped out in the 2015 election in Scotland and it’s NEVER coming back from that defeat. The shift towards Corbyn’s Momentum cult proves that Labour has decided its future lies in big cities, where a mix of young voters virtue signalling, long term benefits claimants and migrants offers a dedicated cadre of support.

In the regions, parties like Plaid Cymru, SNP, Lib Dems, DUP, Sinn Fein and others all have their loyal followers, aggrieved and fed up with the old order, the same old `yah-boo’ politics we see at PMQs, the smug elitism of the Lords, and the shameless money-grabbing that almost all career politicians are guilty of. In short, the UK is ready to become ever more divided because the old politics is in bitter denial of the new reality.

But as Tony Benn noted, the answer to imperfect democracy is MORE democracy, not less. That is why the federal, remote, corrupt and unaccountable EU was rejected by 52%. Migration – uncapped at any rate – was a secondary consideration. People can see that ALL politicians now rank themselves way above the rest of us and are most certainly free from obeying the normal rules and laws which apply to the majority of the population.

Mainstream media, pundits and politicians simply cannot grasp that Donald Trump didn’t offered some grand, coherent vision of a new America – he wasn’t voted in for hos policies or values. They were largely irrelevant. What amttered was that for the Mitt Ronmeys, Ted Cruz or Clintons of this world, the game was up – Americans could stomach no more of their blatant lies, greed and duplicity.



People voted to wipe the smug smirk of entitlement off Hillary’s face.

That vengeful anger may yet propel a more sinister figure than Trump into the White House. If you want proof, look to the absolute monarchy of Russia, where Putin rules like a War of The Roses King, surrounded by his mafia-like Barons. There are elections, of course, but does anyone dare vote for real change?

Likewise, in the Middle East, where democracy has NEVER- as in never – taken hold, (except in Israel, ) we see a real danger of sectarian theocracy eclipsing any democratic regime. Egypt, Libya, Iran, Iraq, all the Gulf states…shall I go on? OK, let’s add Afghanistan, Somalia, Pakistan, Ethiopia, Algeria and possibly Morocco. The economic migrants and refugees that we are inviting into Europe, Canada and the USA often share the belief that equal rights for women, or LGBT people, democracy or free speech are all ultimately subservient to the laws of the Prophet.

One day, both Sunni and Shia will form their own political parties, and votes will be cast along sectarian lines. The question is; once those parties achieve real political power in the UK, ( and the EU, or at least the Western half of the bloc) what laws will they pass, or refuse to accept?

What then for democracy, when gay marriage is repealed by a Coalition of religiously motivated parties, and a far-right party determined to turn back the clock of civilised society? Or all criticism, of all religions, is deemed to be `Hate Speech?’

Be careful what you wish for Remainers, for your refusal to accept the will of the people may yet bring about a tyranny of the few. The few who can be bothered to vote…



Towards A Divided Britain

I’ve written at length before on the topic of London vs The Rest of the UK.

It’s a process that started way back in the 80s as London property prices began to outstrip wages at an ever increasing pace, coupled to a migration within the UK, of talented people, essential workers and the young, heading to the Capital in the 1990s and early 2000s. Tony Blair’s policy of encouraging mass-migration from 1998 onwards accelerated the economic growth of London, and the changing ethnic make-up of the Capital.

Back Camera

As explained in the essay published two years ago in Notes From The Margins, money, getting rich quick, or joining the cosy cliques of power and influence, is the social glue which holds London and the South-East together. People there are generally able to forget, or at least set aside, the ancient grudges and sectarian hatred of their home turf, in order to have a better material life. And that money train shows no sign of stopping, despite the Brexit vote, as Google, ASOS and others continue to announce jobs investment in London, seeing it as a separate country, and crucially, an economy with a future – unlike Ulster, Wales, Scotland or the North of England.

Austerity Britain? Not in London my fellow citizens, and you only have to walk the streets of the Capital to see, and feel, the buzz, the vibrancy of the place. Building work is everywhere, massive infrastructure projects abound such as the Supersewer, London Bridge station, Heathrow expansion etc. plus millionaires-only-please apartments, boutique hotels, flagship Swiss watch emporiums, luxury car showrooms et al pepper the streets as the world’s rich continue to colonise our Capital with their funny money, which needs to be laundered by the professionals in the City.


There is no doubt that the 2008 financial crash and recession has not impacted anywhere near as profoundly within the M25, as it has across the rest of the UK. Likewise, the social division, the emergence of distinct enclaves, based on religious belief, overseas nationality or local work opportunities, is nowhere near so sharply drawn in Greenwich or Battersea, as it is in Gainsborough or Blackburn.

Although London and the SE has its gated communities, posh avenues where private security vans patrol after dark, and servants from overseas whisper like ghosts from outbuildings, to main houses, via back garden paths, the majority of the population is undeniably integrated. People of all skin colours, backgrounds, religions and sexual preferences work and travel together, eat at the same fast food chains, watch the same tedious football or cricket matches. The overarching reason for existing in London, suffering the noxious traffic fumes and outrageous rents, is the dream of making it big; starting a business, getting promoted to a senior level, or seizing one of the many opportunities that may come your way.

But spend a few days in towns like Luton, Bradford, Blackburn, Wrexham or cities like Manchester, Sheffield or Leeds. It won’t take you long to find areas where one particular language or dialect is the dominant one, where many people do not speak more than a few words of English.

More concerning still, is the long term under-employment of around half of the working age population. Groups of young men – of all skin colours – can be seen hanging around with absolutely no career prospects. Women struggle to find anything more challenging than part-time work in supermarkets, carer agencies or shops. Men aged 45 or older are simply ignored, screened out of the jobs market by ruthless recruitment agencies, who insist on seeing applicants passports so they can discriminate by birth date. In short, there is no career ladder, no upward social mobility, which can act as a salve upon the wounds of ethnic or religious divisions.

It isn’t just a Brexit-fuelled casual racism which stalks the regions of the UK, although there are plenty of white British folk sullenly willing the foreigners out of their impoverished lives. The lack of hope, the grim realisation that things will NEVER get any better, no matter how hard you work, is something which drives all people, indigenous and new arrivals, to settle in familiar tribal surroundings. Form the wagons in a circle, is the unspoken agreement.

You can see this strong community identity best in a place like Belfast, where a peace wall segregates Catholic and Protestant, over 15 years after the Good Friday Agreement. People simply stick together, no matter what, and hold fast to the idea that incomers are not to be trusted, locals set the unwritten rules, and the Police should stay out of matters unless specifically invited in to resolve something serious.

The same mindset can be witnessed in Sheffield or Bradford, Salford or Burnley. You only have to look properly to find it.



I’m talking equality of opportunity, regardless of gender, age or religion, or geographical location. It’s time to derail the London Economic Express and build a high speed social mobility ladder that has lower rungs across ALL of the UK – Scotland, Wales, the North and Ulster.

There must be freedom to worship any God, or no God at all if you like and those who espouse violence towards rival sects, or unbelievers, must be jailed – and sometimes deported – for the sake of wider social tolerance. A study of the tragic history of Northern Ireland shows how religious differences can be hijacked by those who would send young men, and women, on the fool’s errand of war. We must not lose our love of free speech, the ability to debate issues openly, or laugh at a risque or bad taste joke. Hate Speech is the stuff that Hitler, Pol Pot or Stalin spoke, not a reasoned criticism of men who would rather kill their female relatives, than let them marry a man they loved.

Those who seek to stifle debate by shouting about offending others need to understand that an enforced silence breeds suspicion, jealousy and deep division within society.


Soon, automation and AI will sweep away millions of jobs and I have news for Londoners – you are not immune from this second Industrial Revolution. You will suffer too. City traders and stockbrokers will be replaced by algorithms, many teachers will lose their positions to glowing screens and self-learning software, and surgeons will find their sewing skill cannot match a robot’s adroit touch.


The answer to this mass unemployment is Universal Basic Income, and a social contract which ring fences certain jobs as requiring the human touch, the understanding that ultimately we all live by the kindness of strangers.

Those who cannot help construct a new social, political and economic future, where all of us may thrive – not just the morally superior virtue-signallers of London – will condemn everyone to a soulless, automated existence, where we seek shelter in divided tribes, simmering with anger. This internal economic and social separation, the segregation of people within the UK by faith, language or cultural heritage, will become a much bigger problem that the slanging match surrounding Brexit.

These problems have very little to do with the EU, these are structural changes that are irrevocable, profound and global. Every nation is going to be affected by AI, from Indian call centre to Turkish car parts factory. How we deal with an increasingly segregated Britain will ultimately define our values, our humanity. Or the lack of it.




#TravelTuesday Aletsch Glacier Switzerland


The Aletsch is something wondrous.

A river of ancient water, grinding its way through the Alps, a ghost from the last Ice Age. You stand and stare, hypnotised by its serpentine grace, willing it to move a fraction before your eyes. But it remains immobile, brilliant white, like a finger of paint left by Picasso as an afterthought.

People sometimes take a guided walk on the Aletsch, treading on rain and snow that was frozen thousands of years ago. Better to sit on the mountains nearby, breathe in pure, thin air and enjoy a moment of escape from phones, work, traffic and all the other things that clutter up every busy minute.

Switzerland is a rich man’s playground in winter, dominated by snow sports and gin palace drinking culture. But in summer, it’s a retreat and that’s a rare thing anywhere in Europe.


True Equality Means Universal Basic Income

You can argue all day about the meaning of equal rights in Britain.

For example, the old debate about equal pay for women in the workplace has been long since superceded by virtue-signalling conversations about BAME/LBGT/Trans quotas, unacceptable speech policies, ageism, carers rights, paternity/maternity leave and the generally shameful lip service paid to candidates with disabilities.

The only thing that’s generally agreed in the UK is that we all hate middle aged white guys. Because…erm, well they’re all racist Brexiteers aren’t they? Yeah. Except for Jezza Corbyn.


But there is a structural shift coming soon in the world of work, called automation. Soon, robots will be doing the driving jobs, warehouse forklift driving, picking and packing etc. In the white collar jobs market, AI software and SIRI-like helpers will see an end to that 21st century workhouse, the call centre. Insurance claims will be settled by AI, plus arguments over legal separations, wills, traffic offences and divorces will be sifted by software too, putting thousands of family law specialists out of work – although the rich will always demand a sly, devious human to defend their interests of course.

What that means is millions of jobs vanishing, forever. Not a temporary recession, but a revolution which will see humans lose out to technology that never sleeps, never goes sick, needs a holiday in Turkey, or an index-linked pension that lasts for over 30 years in some cases.

The only logical answer in developed economies like the UK, USA, EU zone, Canada, Australia etc is Universal Basic Income (UBI). Politicians hate to discuss the idea, because many live in the past, where `work’ is intrinsically seen as a good thing, a moral obligation which every decent citizen is willing to do.


But the fact is that over the last 20 years Britain has constructed a system which rewards those who choose to opt out of working for a living. The key to unlocking this largesse is children, as those who have them can receive a percentage of their rent, a fixed amount per month, per child, free prescriptions, plus child benefit on top. Many women – and it’s usually women who are lumbered with the childcare – have sussed that it is a complete waste of time working full-time. A typical call centre job may pay £17-£20K in the regions and about £22-£25K in London. But three children should generate about £1500 per month in income. That’s more than your take home pay, so the answer is to work 16 hours, lie about the true sleeping arrangements between your male partner and yourself, and rake in the cash for about 20 years. Beautiful.

But this is clearly a case of discrimination against single people, gay or lesbian couples who choose not to have children, or older people whose children have grown up and left home, thus taking away the Tax Credits revenue. In a fair society, everyone would free cash because the truth is that everyone will NEED it in a few years. Singletons won’t be able to work because there won’t be any jobs to apply for.

The sensible solution is to pay everyone, over the age of 18, an income of say £7000-£8000 a year, and allow them to keep any cash that earn on top. This would reward those who feel like starting a business, or simply working as hard as they can, whilst those who like to stay in watching Jeremy Kyle can do so, especially if they partner up officially and a household has £14,000-£16,000 a year coming in. You aren’t living in luxury, but you certainly wouldn’t starve, so long as you were able to live without a car, fags, booze each day or legal high festivals at the weekends.

Pensioners could keep their pension, ISAs, bonds, shares etc. on top of their UBI, thus offering an incentive to save long term, be prudent, not hedonistic. The incentive to keep breeding, in order to recive more benefits, would also vanish which will one day save our planet. As Attenborough noted, we are over-populating this island Earth and that is a problem which must be addressed. Or we all die of starvation, except the rich eleite, who are busy reserving all the glam jobs and posh housing for themselves, their families and chums.


Your son or daughter can’t have a career, because a wealthy, tax evading, chumocracy have bagsied the best jobs in advance.

Corbyn’s Labour should be bold and seize this policy idea, sell the dream of `work when you choose’ to the voters, not the endless squabbles of who is more politically correct than thou. Rebrand Labour as the Universal Equality Party and a huge section of the working – and non-working – class will place their X in the Labour candidate box in 2020. Who doesn’t like FREE cash, indigenous Brit and gangmaster enslaved migrant alike?

The virtue signalling Londonistas, who simply adore protesting about all kinds of social justice trivia, will love the idea of being paid to be a student forever, a writer, a musician, a dreamer, Twitter Manager, blogger or an X-Box player…this policy has massive appeal to the bone idle younger voter who has no ambition beyond leaving their parents back bedroom one day. Corbyn’s core supporters basically. So it’s win-win – new Momentum Labour meets old school working class and the most wonderful thing about it all is that we simply tax everything that people buy to pay for the UBI top up. Any shortfall can be supplied by QE- invented numbers on an ECB screen.

The future is bright, the future is UBI.




The UK Needs a Constitution – Will It Ever Get One?

It is an undeniable truth that a country in possession of a fortune is in need of a written Constitution. The founding fathers of the United States knew that, even the bloody architects of the Soviet Union understood it too. Heck, even a vile place like Tajikistan or Mali has produced a Constitution or two.

But not the UK and this is the crux of the dry legal argument, which is being held in the Supreme Court, as millionaires attempt to stop Brexit. The central question is simple, yet complex; does Parliament, or the People have the last word? You may think that the two are for all purposes the same, but the trouble with one-off Referendums is that that by-pass the will of the House of Commons, and many MPs, and sometimes PMs, don’t like that.


I think the UK needs a written Constitution for three important reasons:

One, Wales, Ulster and Scotland, are already separate states in some ways, and a written document would define that relationship, and the Commonwealth, or Crown Dependencies, in a much clearer way.

Two, any future debate about Parliament taking precedence over any Treaty negotiated by a government, or a Referendum, would be clarified in law. Until a dictatorship took power anyway.

Three, it would help prevent overseas based interests from influencing any UK government by means of bribes, promises, secret trade deals etc. It wouldn’t stop it completely, but defining UK citizens inalienable rights would – in theory – stop another Parliament from enacting laws which stole away those rights. A good example of this is the rendition of UK citizens to the USA or other EU states, without that citizen having the right to insist that a full case for international arrest and trial be heard FIRST in a UK court, before a jury, and held in public not in secret.


First of all, let’s not mention Magna Carta, which was nothing more than a list of demands from disgruntled Lords, Earls and Barons, aggrieved that the King was taking their money and then reneging on the mafia-like deals that had been struck. Ordinary people in 13th century England were slaves, end of. They remained so after Magna Carta.

The next attempt at a Constitution is the most interesting one; the English Civil Wars of the 1640s. In a series of battles Charles I managed to lose the argument over absolute monarchy to Cromwell and his Parliamentarian forces. The result was an ISIS style beheading, to show to all commoners that the Head of State was literally no more. Parliament was now Sovereign.

This was put to the test when James II took the throne and again, the Parliament side won, producing a Bill of Rights in 1689 to re-inforce two important points; no more Catholic monarchs and secondly, that Parliament offers truly free speech, (immunity of prosecution only for MPs of course) and has the exclusive power to raise tax and acts a brake upon the Courts. Power to raise tax was taken from the monarch by the 1689 Bill.

I shall say it again however, the 1689 Act had NO effect upon the lives of ordinary people at the time, who were virtual slaves. It offered no rights to poor citizens. Only those with money could avail themselves of any `rights’ listed in the 1689 Act.


Onwards to the 20th century and some real progress. The only part of the UK which has a written Constitution is Northern Ireland, with the Good Friday Agreement being the basis of a devolved, power sharing Executive. This document is also unique in that it was ratified by two Referendums, both in the Republic, and Ulster, later in 1998. In other words, the Constitution of Northern Ireland had the true consent of the people, not just the executive, law-giving body.


The Good Friday Agreement makes a good template for a UK Constitution in many ways, because it offers not just basic, and obvious, `human rights’ as agreed over the last century or so in Western nations, but also power sharing, and a right to self determination for a minority community.

This principle is much needed in a divided UK, where London and the South East has nearly all the money, good jobs and political power. It would also enable Scotland and Wales have clearly defined powers, identify areas of co-operation with other regions within the UK, (such as defence, traffic laws, control of infectious disease etc.) plus the right to make a treaty, agreement or trade arrangement with another country, or bloc of member states such as the EU, IF the majority of the population agreed to do so.

That would enable the SNP, or Plaid Cymru, to offer something unique to voters genuinely fed up of being ruled by London.

Things like fixed term parliaments, reducing the number of MPs and defining the powers of city Mayors, or regional assemblies, should be essential components in any Constitution. Hopefully we can all agree on that.

The matter of free speech, which is clearly being curtailed by the UK government, would also be defined in a written Constitution. This needs to be done, as we live in a country where particular religious or specific interest lobby groups take offence at various comments, resulting in jail terms for those who speak out of turn. It’s not good enough that an MP may call someone `zionist jew scum’ or a sand n***er’ in Parliament, but an ordinary citizen may not do so. The same laws on free speech – rights, limits and responsibilities – must apply to ALL citizens. The rich and powerful must not be granted an exemption from prosecution.


This leads naturally to a definition in law of freedom to worship whatever God you choose, or no God at all, and enshrine mutual respect and toleration as a foundation stone of our UK Constitution. Those who call for other worshippers to be killed should know that they are breaking that written law, and violating the rights of others to believe whatever they want.

There is no point in having a written Constitution if the poor are excluded from accessing the rights afforded to them. We see the rich repeatedly buying their way out of trouble, getting away with crimes, whilst the poor suffer the lottery of the UK criminal justice system. Any written document should guarantee legal aid, trial in public – not secret – and the right to a hearing by jury for serious crimes.

The new Constitution should abolish the House of Lords, and replace it with a second elected chamber, based on proportional representation. This would act as a balance against the Commons, where MPs tend to pursue the party line and sometimes not vote with the long term view in mind, or the wider public feeling. The monarch should also be defined as a figurehead, devoid of all powers.

Here is one final detail – it isn’t a perfect solution to the matter of political corruption, but adding a Constitutional clause that any MP, or Upper House member who accepts gifts, jobs, or any sponsorship for themselves, their family or companies they sit upon, shall immediately lose their place in the legislature.

There is much more you could add, but it’s a starting point. The UK truly deserves a written document which sets out the apparatus of the State in clear terms, our rights as equal citizens and guarantees us a chance to a fair trial, the ability to express a view without prosecution, and the right to worship whatever we want; God or Mammon.

If we fail to have a Constitution then one day, we will lose all our rights, and that is the most pressing argument for having something in writing. In the end, it is a much more important document than anything to do with Brexit because it bestows power within the individual, as well as the State.



Travel Notes From NZ

Some memories from a two week road trip around New Zealand’s South Island.


The sheer space on the South Island is quite a contrast to most of Europe. On a long, lonely Highway 87, up past Ranfurly, along Highway 85 and 8 I overtook maybe two vehicles. I cruised slowly through Scottish-sounding towns like Galloway, Clyde and Bannockburn until I finally reached Lake Wanaka, which was a postcard smooth, mirror of ice-capped mountain views. Stunning.


Rather than try a hotel, I checked into a house for two nights at Wanaka, as it had a washing machine and tumble-drier, plus a garage for the bike. Cost about £70 per night but worth it to re-charge my batteries. I spent a whole day resting, lubing the cables and chain on the VFR, checking the tyres and sleeping. Three days of hammering rain and strong winds had drained the fun out of motorcycling for a while.

Wanaka is a stunning, serene place, surrounded by mountains and unbelievably peaceful. You couldn’t ask for a more beautiful way of escape, a fortress of quiet solitude.

After a break I woke up to some NZ sunshine for the fabulous Haast Pass route; a serpentine roller-coaster through more spectacular mountains, with topaz coloured water crashing through the canyon next to the road. I stayed with Highway 6 as it wriggled down the mountains to the coast, then hooked northwards to the Fox Glacier and Greymouth.

This town has a real old school feel, a gritty, almost pioneer type of vibe. Coal mines, casinos and dusty old V8 American cars pepper the area here, you feel like this is the real NZ, a million miles from Queenstown’s `dude’ culture. Again, I checked into a small bed & breakfast hotel on spec and hit the local bar for decent meal and a pint. Greymouth was akin to small town America in lots of ways; low-roofed shops and restaurants, an easy pace to it.


I carried on up Highway 6 and over the hills. More swoopy bends, loose rocks in the road and squally showers of rain to contend with. NZ’s summer’s can be four seasons in one day, bit like Ireland in that regard. I picked up Highway 63 to Blenheim and briefly considered getting a ferry ride over to the North Island, which runs from Picton and takes about 3 hours. In the end, I decided against it; you can only cover so much ground in 10 days, so why pile on the big mileage days? I turned south and checked into Kaikoura for 2 nights instead and loved it.


Kaikoura makes a fantastic base for whale or dolphin-watching, surfing, ocean fishing trips, or just lazing on the beach, watching the Kea parrots peck away at the cool boxes of camper-can travellers. The parrots even had a go at the panniers on the VFR, detecting the roadside picnic I packed in there.

This was the last lap of my South Island tour and then back to Christchurch along Highway 1, with a detour to Motunau Beach on the way. There’s a single track road to the rocky edge of the South Island, so it’s a quiet place. For me, this was another chance to paddle in the Pacific Ocean, mirroring the dip I’d taken a year before, on the other side of the ocean at Oregon. Two sides of a mighty sea in two years, I felt like Michael Palin, a proper globe-trotter. You feel like you are at the very edge of the earth on the South Island. There’s miles of sand, seabirds, maybe two or three campervans…that’s it. Next stop, Antarctica.


Back in Christchurch I had a day to check out the John Britten museum, get used to being surrounded by people again and pack up for the long flight home. NZ has its own pace of life, a genuine old fashioned flavour in the small towns that sets it apart. The best thing I did on the whole trip was leave my mobile in a drawer at home – the South Island isn’t just Godzone, it’s a welcome break from the 24/7 modern world. It’s just you, the bike and the open road.

Like motorcycle touring used to be.


Postcards From The Past

I used to test motorcycles for a living. It was dangerous, fun and not very well paid. Out of the hundreds of motorcycles and scooters I had a spin on, here are a few which stuck in my memory, and why;


Suzuki Hayabusa. Fast? Yep, warp friggin’ speed fast.

The Suzuki Hayabusa launch from 1998 at Bruntingthorpe was unforgettable. Jimmi from Fast Bikes spewed up in a car glove box on the way to the event, as he was still pissed from the free booze Suzuki’s PR specialists served up the night before.

I wasn’t feeling too clever and after getting my helmet visor hit by gravel at 150mph, as Shakey Byrne overtook me on the straight, I began to think one of us journos might die as we raced towards the speed trap at over 175mph. Then played chicken on the brakes. Things became so surreal that Chris `Crasher’ Moss from MCN declared the Busa was good enough to make a decent Proddie race bike.

I recorded a mere 194mph that day. Shakey did 202mph. Interestingly, the speedo on my bike was showing around 215mph at 190mph, which only goes to prove one thing; road tests are 90% bullsh** baby.


Triumph Rocket Three belongs in the USA. Cinemascope motorcycling.

If ever a bike belonged in the Grand Canyon, the badlands of Missouri or cruising the Strip in Vegas, it was the Triumph Rocket III Touring. True, the motor is NOT a V8, but the pistons are from a Dodge Viper I believe and the way the three cylinder engine punches you towards the next horizon is deeply MoPar.

It drinks fuel. I recall filling the tank every 100 miles or so, but in the USA that doesn’t matter. It corners like a big sofa, but again, what difference does that make on an arrow straight road in Nevada? Lie back and enjoy the adventure, the sheer emptiness of the open road. There was a moment on the ET Highway, where I started singing Wanted: Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi, beneath the confines of my Arai. Think I got away with it…


1098 Ducati – dream on track, nightmare on UK roads.

You know when you meet one of your heroes and it’s a great disappointment? Well the same thing happened with the Ducati 1098.

I loved its sheer Sophia Loren curvaceous beauty, drooled over the tech spec when Ducati’s PR team sent over the promo blurb and couldn’t wait to test the bike. As a lowly scum internet editor back in the 2000s, I wasn’t allowed on the flashy press launch, so instead had to book a week’s road test.

Rarely have I felt such pain in my neck and back, (and I’ve attended many of Max Mosley’s finest evening soirees,) and the number of times the bike almost wrenched its handlebars from my grip, as the rock solid suspension bumped and thumped over pot-holes was a constant unsettling annoyance. You simply didn’t trust the bike to behave at speed, as it reacted to every piss-poor road repair, thickly painted whiteline, or drainage grid. The 1098 was incredibly hard work in traffic too; a lumpy low end power delivery and a clutch that seemed extremely sensitive and fragile.

In short, a fantastic track bike, a pure racer. But a total bag of nails on the A41 during a showery day in April. You could cover ground quicker on a ten year old 748. Like so many exotic motorcycles, the 1098 was more show than go, a medallion man machine for those blokes who feel the need to say “I’m considerably richer than yow” at biker hang outs.

Ridden an unforgettable steed? Post a comment below.

#Amwriting: Colouring in Character

Writing is a tricky thing and I don’t think I will ever perfect the business of defining characters completely, rounding them out to the reader.

Maybe that’s a good thing, perhaps the reader needs to visualise the character and interpret their thoughts and selected scraps of dialogue? It’s an especially difficult process with minor characters – bit part players – in novels. You don’t want a lesser character becoming a big distraction from the plot, the central dilemma the hero/heroine is facing, the action sequences etc. But you do want them to resonate, to feel real.


Ian Hart as Parkis in The End of The Affair

One thing I’ve noticed in real life is that we all have vocal `tics.’ Things like saying wee man instead of little man, or making an umm or ahhhh noise to gain thinking time when faced with a tough question. Another strategy that politicians use is repeating a question back, while you think of a good answer and this is something I used in Grievance, during scenes where Police, MI5 and politicians all danced around the vague topic of truth and reconciliation.

Arguably Charles Dickens was the master of pen portraits when it came to character studies and he was famously a cartoonist called Boz in his younger days. Another writer I love is Graham Greene, who often sums up so much about the English class system, crime or Catholic sins, via a few well chosen words from his characters.

In Greene’s masterpiece, The End of The Affair, the way that Parkis refers to his son as `the boy’ and tries to shield him from the seedy world of divorce court snooping, speaks volumes about the era, and the particularly awkward British hypocrisy of conducting a middle class love affair. Plus, the way Parkis regards himself as being automatically part of the lower orders, and expects his boy to follow in his father’s sad, beady-eyed footsteps, is summed up in the tone, the feel, of the dialogue. It has a methodical, clock-watching, workmanlike flavour and that brings Parkis alive for me.

I tried handling multiple plot lines, and an ensemble cast in The Pink Peppermint Lounge and most likely, I haven’t done all the characters justice. But I spent hours editing, and sometimes re-writing from scratch, lots of dialogue exchanges – far more than I did with third person descriptions of the actors, or their actions. People are defined, ultimately, by their actions, not their words. But you need the flesh of dialogue, fitted smoothly upon the bones of plot development, to get anywhere near a kind of truth in fiction.

If you want to sample a few extracts from my books then here’s a link.