It didn’t seem, a few weeks ago, like there was any chance of McCain winning anything competitive — let alone the highest office in his land. He was a man so incredibly boring it was actually intriguing. People thought that if they didn’t vote for him, without all the healthcare that comes with being President, he would be dead before the ballot had been cast. And, with that hope, they planned to vote Obama or Clinton or anyone but him, please dear God. Meanwhile, he shambled around muttering about war for several decades longer in … yawn … and vaccines cause autism and science is bonkers and … yawn… creationism in schools … war, war, war, is my main policy …

[Read Sam Harris’ more eloquent critique of Palin on my blog, here. And you’ll have to forgive me this, but a friend has asked me to pimp his site: The Book Swede … it’s not entirely irrelevant, I suppose. He has a huge Neil Gaiman giveaway going on].

And then along came Sarah Palin. We no longer had to yawn at John McCain; we could, instead, marvel at the strange effect this stranger woman — previously mayor, I believe, of only 10,000 people — was having on your strange land of America. There are real Sarah Palin dolls, dressed in some kind of Dominionist … er, dominatrix … teacher’s uniform with accompanying mini-skirt — the reason for my present blindness. (Ew; by which I mean that I gouged out my own eyes, not that I received some masturbatory punishment from an extremely prurient celestial observer.) Sarah Palin is somehow wooing the media.


  1. She has a child that has had a child, and out of wedlock — which is something Palin is very much against. Somehow, this doesn’t make her a hypocrite, but a loving grandmother, with her face all over the magazines with poor said love-child dragged along.
  2. She’s a woman. I’d hate, though, to think that American females who voted for Hillary solely on the basis of her gender would be so shallow as to vote for an Alaskan. (Bad joke). What’s worse is that she wants to rape her own state, taking all that is beautiful in it and violating it.
  3. A kind of childish glee at destroying things, at pulling all the Jenga blocks of society down, into dust and decay and ruin. A certain why the hell not, let’s see what happens, type attitude. Even George W. Bush has accepted climate change is man-made and needs work — Palin doesn’t, though. Let’s vote for someone who makes George W. Bush look like an informed progressive.

I don’t know bloody know how 😦 And Palin and McCain will win, you know. My own Prime Minister has contributed to that by giving Obama his thumbs-up, which is scarcely less than taking a gun to Obama’s political career. That’s a little unfair, perhaps, and I don’t want to set the tone for this site as shrill and moaning, but,

Ugh! Sarah Palin! Ughhhh! I hate her. I hate her so much it gives me energy! There aren’t enough hours in the day to hate her properly! 😦 I have to get up early so I can hate her for longer! Ughhh!

Phew. Sorry. I won’t let it happen again.

Will you?


You may, or may not, have heard about the ongoing censorship row in Britain at the moment. Carol Ann Duffy (who is the awesome) is a very well-regarded poet, whose poems have been in exam anthologies for years. I studied her for G.C.S.E last year (not sure what the American equivalent exam is, but I was 16 at the time), and thought she was excellent. One of her poems, Education for Leisure, after being on the syllabus for three years – during which time it was studied by many for exams – has just been removed from the syllabus following complaints from three schools. Three! Never mind that the reason for those complaints is so ridiculous as to defy language (we’ll come to those complaints in a moment), but only three bloody complaints!

Furthermore, it was suggested by the exam board that the syllabuses (or syllabi) be destroyed, that’s how dangerous this particular poem is perceived to be! (That statement by the exam board conjured up easy images of Nazi censorship and book-burning, and was quickly qualified to mean something different).

Again, an example of an offended minority pushing their way of doing things – their way of thinking – onto a majority.

The main person behind the complaints is Pat Schofield, an external examiner at Lutterworth College, Leicestershire, who complained about the poem and who welcomed the decision to ban a poem she described as “absolutely horrendous”. She described the poem as “a bit weird. But having read her other poems I found they were all a little bit weird. But that’s me”. Well, yes, that is you, and it shows that you really are a Grade A pillock (Duffy in-joke!).

Duffy writes rhyming reposte

However, the real people to blame are the exam board, AQA, who caved in. A minority of pillocks, in apposition with an organisation afraid of – God forbid – offending people, is a dangerous thing at all times. In this case, pillock refers to three people who didn’t understand that a poem they thought was glorifying knife crime was in fact doing the opposite, and had been acclaimed for doing the opposite, for years.

Yet, it’s the same thing. Censorship. Restriction of freedom. Why? For the reason that she thought it was “a bit weird”. For the reason that she – and a minority consisting of two others – didn’t like it, and thus didn’t think anyone else should read it either. And the exam board gave in.

In other cases, “pillock” refers to the museums in my England who have covered up signs next to exhibits that offended a Christian fundamentalist minority. These signs in museums – hallowed (if that’s the right word to use) centres of learning and knowledge and wonder at the sheer sublime beauty of nature and history – were covered up because they dared to say that Darwin’s Theory of evolution by natural selection actually helps scientists know about the origins of life. Apparently, this isn’t a view shared by creationists…? 😛

We need to stop being afraid of the pillocks. I would fight for their right to be allowed to say such silly things – but there is no need to actually do what the idiots say. Their tactics are tactics of fear, and – quite often – we who are so afraid of causing offence to anyone, censor ourselves. We must not let such flagrant abuses of free speech and liberty persist.

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My name is Christopher. It means “carrier of Christ”, and, unfortunately, I’ve had to carry him long enough: it’s about time he was hurled out of any decent society, I think, along with all the other gods that don’t exist…

I am a godless liberal type of person, from the UK, who is 17 years old and fascinated by science, by the ill that is religion, and by literature, in general. This site is where I get to talk about the cross-sections of all three, while being interesting and amusing and clever — hopefully.