I just tried to watch Masterchef. Why do we need all the American false jeopardy music and trumped up fake tension? They are cooking a bit of dinner not defusing a bomb in a primary school FFS! As for India Fisher's stroke victim voice over, how does that fit in? Surely they should have a man on fire running around on broken glass to do it now. At least it would fit with the DRAMA. Fuck me it’s DRAMATIC isn’t it…. Isn’t it?. The drama isn’t even consistent, one minute the tenderness of the pan fried Cod could save mankind from impending doom, then they lapse into Keane because it turns out the fat ugly woman can cook too.. ahhh.. anyway, BACK TO THE DRAMA! Fuck me, if this cake goes wrong we are all going to be burned to death with acid!
Thank fuck Arsenal v Barcelona was a decent watch this evening, well done you Gurners, or whatever it is you call yourselves, Arse Having’s winning goal was enjoyable at least. I even got a little excited and let out an involuntary “yay!”. And all without the aid of a team of Kodo drummers and a brass section.
Dear BBC, some things are exciting, like a close football or Rugby match, other things are entertaining for other reasons. Masterchef used to be in the latter camp. People that like food and cooking enjoyed it as it was. Now we hate it becuase YOU thought we were so thick we needed it jazzing up! Tossers!
Wednesday, 16 February 2011
Wednesday, 19 January 2011
Why aren't kids revolting? (A music rant)
As much as the piss ant tabloid press like to brainwash their thicko readership into thinking that all kids are knife wielding, gobbing, granny mugging morons, the truth seems to me to be quite the opposite. In fact there seems to be very little in the way of rebellion these days. Most of the young people I meet are like 40 year olds in trendier clothes.
And I blame Simon Cowell. I do, really. When I was a lad (yes I am old) we had to make our own music, the music we made was made with computers and turn tables in our bedrooms. Most of it was repetitive and shit, but we didn't care because we were off our faces on purple ohms and love doves.
The generation before us made their own music in the garage with a band, some safety pins, someone shouting and a bag of glue. Their music was shit too, but they didn't care as they were off their faces on glue.
But from all this shit music emerged real talent. Would we have had the Sex pistols without all the shit garage bands? No. Would we have had Orbital without hundreds of kids pissing about in their bedrooms? I doubt it. (You could argue that we would have avoided Moby too. I would struggle to counter your argument).
We were all trying to revolt, trying to find our own identity and succeeding. Each generation, from the 60’s has had its defining music and styles, it’s drugs and music and something for revolting kids to cling to as they exploded (literally) into maturity. There needed to be an excuse to go out and get fucked, fucked on drink, fucked on drugs, fucked on music and fucked doggy style with your hair on fire. My generation had that. We had the summer of love, Ibiza and pills. The ones before us had the New Romantics, then the New Wave and Ska/mod revival, Skin heads, Punks, Mods and Rockers, Teddy boys .. it goes back to the beginning of Rock and Roll and for the very large majority of us, it was a good thing.
But now what have they got? It feels to me as though the kids are being told what to listen to by the record companies. Rather than the other way round. We used to define the music, now the record companies do. Programs like X Factor define the music and define what will be number 1. No wonder kids don’t buy music anymore, they have no input into it. They download it (steal it) and throw it away. It’s all too transient, there is no pride of ownership in a record or CD. And why would there be, even if you go and buy a CD made by musicians, it is for the most part derivative, lame nonsense. Keane. Keane. FUCKING KEANE (I fucking hate Keane) for example. Rock and Roll? Yeah right, them and Starsailor, Kings of Leon, White Lies, Rhianna, Mumford and Sons, Foo Fighters.. Some of these bands I like. But I am nearly 40. I should hate this shit, it should offend me, it should be so edgy that no self-respecting teen would be seen dead listening to one of their Dad’s albums. Then you have the N-Subz / Tinchy Striderites, these are people that think being thick is a virtue. They are not pushing any boundaries, revolution has to have a purpose, no matter how misguided. Even punk had a purpose. Most new music these days is about as edgy as a Blue peter presenter stroking a kitten.
The Libertines had a go, Some rap artists etc. but it's all old. And the record companies wouldn’t promote them in any case. They drop similarly rebellious acts as they didn’t fit the clean image required by the fucking piss ant press (who now rule the world by defining what all thick people think). The record companies are full of Simon Cowells pandering to the lowest common denominator. And in doing so they are ripping the heart out of what made music great; The fact that a generation could be defined by it’s music! That’s what made great music. And now music is bland, we have bland youth culture, bland is bad. Life is too short for bland.
Music has been commercialised so much that it has disappeared up its own fundament. Perhaps there are underground movements out there. Maybe i am too out of touch, there are Emo’s and Goths still around, but they are just miserable little turds, I want to be shocked. As I approach 40, I want to be able to tut and say “Tcoh the kids of today”. But I can’t. Most of them bear more resemblance to a Christian outreach meeting than to the gobbing knife wielding little shits the papers tell us about.
It’s time for a musical revolution, something for the next generation to fuck to. Fuck Simon Cowell and his puke making manfactopop. And fuck Rihanna and her fucking Umbrella. No Mat Cardle. NO! I want music to scare me. If the sterilisation of music continues my kids will have to grow up without sleeping in a gutter, never waking up in bed with a stranger, they will not experience Sunday lunch with mum and dad while still off their faces, they will have no stories to tell, no memorable nights to forget. They will be bland. I may as well start taking them to church if this is what music has become, they can learn to play the organ and sit and pray. Fuck that, as the late great Bill Hicks said, "I want music to ROCK, and I want my kids to ROCK". Life is short and is there to be lived, sod staying in. Sod saving up, Sod “being careful”, fuck off, buy a motorbike, get a life. You are only here once for fucks sake. All these whiney little maggots prancing around in 1 direction, JLSing themselves to a BORING choreographed DULL SHIT GRAVE. Christ some of these kids need to start taking liberties with their bodies otherwise they’ll live to be 120, sitting in a nursing home stinking of piss and TCP, with no vague memories to keep them happy. You regret what you didn’t do. I know that as I regret very little. Apart from being fucked doggy style with my hair on fire. That hurt.
And I blame Simon Cowell. I do, really. When I was a lad (yes I am old) we had to make our own music, the music we made was made with computers and turn tables in our bedrooms. Most of it was repetitive and shit, but we didn't care because we were off our faces on purple ohms and love doves.
The generation before us made their own music in the garage with a band, some safety pins, someone shouting and a bag of glue. Their music was shit too, but they didn't care as they were off their faces on glue.
But from all this shit music emerged real talent. Would we have had the Sex pistols without all the shit garage bands? No. Would we have had Orbital without hundreds of kids pissing about in their bedrooms? I doubt it. (You could argue that we would have avoided Moby too. I would struggle to counter your argument).
We were all trying to revolt, trying to find our own identity and succeeding. Each generation, from the 60’s has had its defining music and styles, it’s drugs and music and something for revolting kids to cling to as they exploded (literally) into maturity. There needed to be an excuse to go out and get fucked, fucked on drink, fucked on drugs, fucked on music and fucked doggy style with your hair on fire. My generation had that. We had the summer of love, Ibiza and pills. The ones before us had the New Romantics, then the New Wave and Ska/mod revival, Skin heads, Punks, Mods and Rockers, Teddy boys .. it goes back to the beginning of Rock and Roll and for the very large majority of us, it was a good thing.
But now what have they got? It feels to me as though the kids are being told what to listen to by the record companies. Rather than the other way round. We used to define the music, now the record companies do. Programs like X Factor define the music and define what will be number 1. No wonder kids don’t buy music anymore, they have no input into it. They download it (steal it) and throw it away. It’s all too transient, there is no pride of ownership in a record or CD. And why would there be, even if you go and buy a CD made by musicians, it is for the most part derivative, lame nonsense. Keane. Keane. FUCKING KEANE (I fucking hate Keane) for example. Rock and Roll? Yeah right, them and Starsailor, Kings of Leon, White Lies, Rhianna, Mumford and Sons, Foo Fighters.. Some of these bands I like. But I am nearly 40. I should hate this shit, it should offend me, it should be so edgy that no self-respecting teen would be seen dead listening to one of their Dad’s albums. Then you have the N-Subz / Tinchy Striderites, these are people that think being thick is a virtue. They are not pushing any boundaries, revolution has to have a purpose, no matter how misguided. Even punk had a purpose. Most new music these days is about as edgy as a Blue peter presenter stroking a kitten.
The Libertines had a go, Some rap artists etc. but it's all old. And the record companies wouldn’t promote them in any case. They drop similarly rebellious acts as they didn’t fit the clean image required by the fucking piss ant press (who now rule the world by defining what all thick people think). The record companies are full of Simon Cowells pandering to the lowest common denominator. And in doing so they are ripping the heart out of what made music great; The fact that a generation could be defined by it’s music! That’s what made great music. And now music is bland, we have bland youth culture, bland is bad. Life is too short for bland.
Music has been commercialised so much that it has disappeared up its own fundament. Perhaps there are underground movements out there. Maybe i am too out of touch, there are Emo’s and Goths still around, but they are just miserable little turds, I want to be shocked. As I approach 40, I want to be able to tut and say “Tcoh the kids of today”. But I can’t. Most of them bear more resemblance to a Christian outreach meeting than to the gobbing knife wielding little shits the papers tell us about.
It’s time for a musical revolution, something for the next generation to fuck to. Fuck Simon Cowell and his puke making manfactopop. And fuck Rihanna and her fucking Umbrella. No Mat Cardle. NO! I want music to scare me. If the sterilisation of music continues my kids will have to grow up without sleeping in a gutter, never waking up in bed with a stranger, they will not experience Sunday lunch with mum and dad while still off their faces, they will have no stories to tell, no memorable nights to forget. They will be bland. I may as well start taking them to church if this is what music has become, they can learn to play the organ and sit and pray. Fuck that, as the late great Bill Hicks said, "I want music to ROCK, and I want my kids to ROCK". Life is short and is there to be lived, sod staying in. Sod saving up, Sod “being careful”, fuck off, buy a motorbike, get a life. You are only here once for fucks sake. All these whiney little maggots prancing around in 1 direction, JLSing themselves to a BORING choreographed DULL SHIT GRAVE. Christ some of these kids need to start taking liberties with their bodies otherwise they’ll live to be 120, sitting in a nursing home stinking of piss and TCP, with no vague memories to keep them happy. You regret what you didn’t do. I know that as I regret very little. Apart from being fucked doggy style with my hair on fire. That hurt.
Wednesday, 8 December 2010
America invades Churchill Square - I send them packing.
I just popped down to Churchill Square to see if I could secure a PS3 for the Children at a sensible price.
I noticed, on my travels that , Ava fumble and Feltch have opened a Holister in the shopping centre, I thought, ooh, I’ll pop in and see about purchasing a woolly Titfer for this cold weather we are having. As I walked in a blond 5’7”, 17 year old gonk by the door wearing Holister jeans and t shirt said to me: “Hey, Wassup! Check out Sandy and juggrrghrhj, they make great Christmas presents”.
I stopped, dead in my tracks. I looked around, there were no Americans there, most people were under 35 stone in weight, there were no nasal whiney voices, no stars and striped bandanas and no one had been shot. Confused I turned and walked out of the shop, looked around, I was definitely still in Churchill square, Brighton. In England. Yet somehow, an American “greeter” had accosted me at my ingress and made noises at me. It happened again, I walked back in and the gonk spluttered : “Hey, Wassup! Check out Sandy and Ghreerrhrhj, they make great Christmas presents”. I stopped next to him, looked down and said “Hello, I am sorry I am not sure what you just said, I got the ‘hey wassup’ bit and the answer to that is nothing. Nothing is up. The bit afterwards, about Sandy and ghheegkjkdnkdjnkjnd making good Christmas presents, what do you mean?” He was somewhat taken aback, he looked up, gulped, let a bit of wee come out and said “Erm,, err.. erm.. Sandy and hgjkbhbhbrfbf they are perfume’s Sir, er over there – he pointed – they would make, ermm err, good Christmas presents”. I considered this for a moment and said, “surely that depends on who you are buying for? I remain unconvinced that my 9 year old son would appreciate a bottle of perfume for Christmas”. He said, “well err”.. I cleared my throat to save him continuing and said “Can I just clear something up? Are you just here to greet people as they arrive and to say that at them?” he looked at the ground and mumbled “We take it in turns, sometimes I do the till”. I said, “well in future young man, if you see a gentleman with a stiff upper lip, a man of purpose, someone that is clearly in full command of his faculties, a man like me for example, an ENGLISH MAN, hmm? Yes?” he nods “ If you see an English man like me entering this shop, may I suggest you take the opportunity to go and work at the till while we browse, if an Englishman needs the help of an assistant while shopping for a Hat, then an Englishman is perfectly capable of asking for it. And if an Englishman wishes to purchase perfume, he would visit a perfume shop, what is more, an Englishman does not need greeting at the door, this is a shop, the doors are open to all, the welcome is assumed as a given. Thank you.“.. I walked off. That told them. Wot!
I noticed, on my travels that , Ava fumble and Feltch have opened a Holister in the shopping centre, I thought, ooh, I’ll pop in and see about purchasing a woolly Titfer for this cold weather we are having. As I walked in a blond 5’7”, 17 year old gonk by the door wearing Holister jeans and t shirt said to me: “Hey, Wassup! Check out Sandy and juggrrghrhj, they make great Christmas presents”.
I stopped, dead in my tracks. I looked around, there were no Americans there, most people were under 35 stone in weight, there were no nasal whiney voices, no stars and striped bandanas and no one had been shot. Confused I turned and walked out of the shop, looked around, I was definitely still in Churchill square, Brighton. In England. Yet somehow, an American “greeter” had accosted me at my ingress and made noises at me. It happened again, I walked back in and the gonk spluttered : “Hey, Wassup! Check out Sandy and Ghreerrhrhj, they make great Christmas presents”. I stopped next to him, looked down and said “Hello, I am sorry I am not sure what you just said, I got the ‘hey wassup’ bit and the answer to that is nothing. Nothing is up. The bit afterwards, about Sandy and ghheegkjkdnkdjnkjnd making good Christmas presents, what do you mean?” He was somewhat taken aback, he looked up, gulped, let a bit of wee come out and said “Erm,, err.. erm.. Sandy and hgjkbhbhbrfbf they are perfume’s Sir, er over there – he pointed – they would make, ermm err, good Christmas presents”. I considered this for a moment and said, “surely that depends on who you are buying for? I remain unconvinced that my 9 year old son would appreciate a bottle of perfume for Christmas”. He said, “well err”.. I cleared my throat to save him continuing and said “Can I just clear something up? Are you just here to greet people as they arrive and to say that at them?” he looked at the ground and mumbled “We take it in turns, sometimes I do the till”. I said, “well in future young man, if you see a gentleman with a stiff upper lip, a man of purpose, someone that is clearly in full command of his faculties, a man like me for example, an ENGLISH MAN, hmm? Yes?” he nods “ If you see an English man like me entering this shop, may I suggest you take the opportunity to go and work at the till while we browse, if an Englishman needs the help of an assistant while shopping for a Hat, then an Englishman is perfectly capable of asking for it. And if an Englishman wishes to purchase perfume, he would visit a perfume shop, what is more, an Englishman does not need greeting at the door, this is a shop, the doors are open to all, the welcome is assumed as a given. Thank you.“.. I walked off. That told them. Wot!
A Letter from France!
Some of this makes sense to me, as it is work related. But look what babel fish does to French to English, and bear it in mind before trying to use it to look clever in future..
Enjoy:
Dear Mr Palmer
I did not take into account the food(supply) 230V of a new casket BMS in my main offer.
I calculate(code) you the operation, but can you validate me if I have to leave the TD-COLOCATE In or the TD-COLOCATE B?
On the other hand I you signal that we have to cross(spend) the cables of adjournment(transfer) of defect towards existing caskets BMS of the rooms COLOCATE and INVERTER, t-il there no doubloon with the proposed plan?
Regards,
Laurent Paccou
no Doubloon? Hahhahahhaa
Enjoy:
Dear Mr Palmer
I did not take into account the food(supply) 230V of a new casket BMS in my main offer.
I calculate(code) you the operation, but can you validate me if I have to leave the TD-COLOCATE In or the TD-COLOCATE B?
On the other hand I you signal that we have to cross(spend) the cables of adjournment(transfer) of defect towards existing caskets BMS of the rooms COLOCATE and INVERTER, t-il there no doubloon with the proposed plan?
Regards,
Laurent Paccou
no Doubloon? Hahhahahhaa
Tuesday, 2 November 2010
Remember remember
Remember, remember the fifth of November,
The gunpowder, treason and plot,
I know of no reason
Why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, ’twas his intent
To blow up the King and Parliament.
Three score barrels of powder below,
Poor old England to overthrow;
By God’s providence he was catch’d
With a dark lantern and burning match.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, make the bells ring.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!
Hip hip hoorah!
A penny loaf to feed the Pope.
A farthing o’ cheese to choke him.
A pint of beer to rinse it down.
A faggot of sticks to burn him.
Burn him in a tub of tar.
Burn him like a blazing star.
Burn his body from his head.
Then we’ll say ol’ Pope is dead.
Hip hip hoorah!
Hip hip hoorah hoorah!
The gunpowder, treason and plot,
I know of no reason
Why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, ’twas his intent
To blow up the King and Parliament.
Three score barrels of powder below,
Poor old England to overthrow;
By God’s providence he was catch’d
With a dark lantern and burning match.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, make the bells ring.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!
Hip hip hoorah!
A penny loaf to feed the Pope.
A farthing o’ cheese to choke him.
A pint of beer to rinse it down.
A faggot of sticks to burn him.
Burn him in a tub of tar.
Burn him like a blazing star.
Burn his body from his head.
Then we’ll say ol’ Pope is dead.
Hip hip hoorah!
Hip hip hoorah hoorah!
Wednesday, 20 October 2010
Thursday, 7 October 2010
Laws often limit personal freedom, but often that limit makes perfect sense. For example, A 20mph speed restriction outside a school or the banning of smoking in public places are two laws that limit our freedom in order to protect the lives of the innocent. I have no argument with this, if you speed past a school and hit a child, you will live and the child will die. That is patently unfair and should be stopped. Equally if you smoke in a bar, you may live yet a non-smoking bar worker may well develop a life threatening illness. So while I don’t like the smoking ban, I struggle to put forward a reasonable argument for its removal.
We can see how the law can be used to prevent ones selfish actions from adversely affecting others. Indeed I would suggest that this is what the law is best used for. But it’s more difficult to justify a law when the only harm one is doing is to one’s self. Sky diving for example, is a relatively dangerous sport compared even to Rugby or Boxing, yet it is perfectly legal. I think most of us accept that we should be allowed to take risks, as long as we are reasonably well informed of the likely downside. If I throw myself out of a perfectly functioning plane, for fun, then it’s my own stupid fault if my ‘chute doesn’t open. No one else is harmed, I knew the risks before jumping and I can’t complain really if I end up a statistic.
A micromort is a unit of risk measuring a one-in-a-million probability of death (from micro- and mortality). Micromorts can be used to measure riskiness of various day-to-day activities. A microprobability is a one-in-a million chance of some event; thus a micromort is the microprobability of death. Mathematicians use the term Micromort as a measure of the likelihood of mortality resulting from any given action. Sky diving measures 17 Micromorts. So for every 1 million sky dives, around 17 will result in a death. Travelling 10 miles by bicycle measures 1 Micromort, canoeing for 6 minutes measures 1 micromort and taking 1 ecstasy tablet equals 1 micromort.
This long winded pre-amble brings me to my question, why is taking ecstasy illegal? And more importantly, why is it classified as a class A drug, when one has more chance of dying cycling to work and back every day, than you do from taking an E or two at the weekend. And what is the point of the costly police time and effort? Who are the law makers protecting here? And from what?
As so many people enjoy taking ecstasy at the weekends without any negative effect, the classification of the drug as class A could lead E users to assume that cocaine or Heroin are equally “safe”. After all, the government tell us they are equally harmful, they are all class A.. If as a regular user you know E does you no long term damage and that deaths arising are no worse than death’s arising from crossing the road, you could be forgiven for assuming Coke and Heroin must be the same, as they are all Class A!
That is a dangerous message. Taking cocaine has proven long term health risks and is heavily addictive- unlike taking E (side effects are a problem, but rare). Addiction to cocaine - and the funding of that habit- causes crime and family problems and therefore negatively affects others in a way that taking E never could. So why do the government send the message that the two are equally harmful?
The government’s inability to form legislation based on evidence is shocking. When their own advisor (Professor David Nutt) recently made a similar point, he was sacked. A lot of this is tabloid politicking and the fault really does lie at the spineless politicians and the shameful misreporting of science in the mass media.
Think of the time and money the Police must waste stopping people selling and taking E. Think of the quality of the E people are taking due to the fact that the government cannot control the quality of something that is illegal. Think of how many people move from E to coke and maybe even Heroin as they mix with the same dealers, and the message form the government is that these drugs are no different to each other!
If ecstasy were legalised it could be licensed. The quality could be controlled, distribution to minors could be controlled, real scientific studies could be done on the long term effects of regular exposure and people (the people that take it anyway) would not be funding gangs of organised criminals when they buy them. They could in fact be paying taxes into the exchequer, perhaps to find treatment centres for heroin addicts, by getting people off smack they would no longer need to burgle your house in order to pay the illegal gangs for the heroin they are addicted to. It’s a virtuous circle, one that escapes the tiny minds of the Daily Mail pandering MP’s.
Legalising a relatively safe drug does not send the message that all drugs are safe. Quite the opposite, it shows people that some drugs are relatively safe and others – the illegal ones- really are not. Lumping them all in together does nothing but cloud the issue. People should have the right to take risks with their own bodies; I think the government has a duty to tell people what those risks are, not to lie to pacify an ignorant minority of voters.
That’s what I think.. What do you think?
We can see how the law can be used to prevent ones selfish actions from adversely affecting others. Indeed I would suggest that this is what the law is best used for. But it’s more difficult to justify a law when the only harm one is doing is to one’s self. Sky diving for example, is a relatively dangerous sport compared even to Rugby or Boxing, yet it is perfectly legal. I think most of us accept that we should be allowed to take risks, as long as we are reasonably well informed of the likely downside. If I throw myself out of a perfectly functioning plane, for fun, then it’s my own stupid fault if my ‘chute doesn’t open. No one else is harmed, I knew the risks before jumping and I can’t complain really if I end up a statistic.
A micromort is a unit of risk measuring a one-in-a-million probability of death (from micro- and mortality). Micromorts can be used to measure riskiness of various day-to-day activities. A microprobability is a one-in-a million chance of some event; thus a micromort is the microprobability of death. Mathematicians use the term Micromort as a measure of the likelihood of mortality resulting from any given action. Sky diving measures 17 Micromorts. So for every 1 million sky dives, around 17 will result in a death. Travelling 10 miles by bicycle measures 1 Micromort, canoeing for 6 minutes measures 1 micromort and taking 1 ecstasy tablet equals 1 micromort.
This long winded pre-amble brings me to my question, why is taking ecstasy illegal? And more importantly, why is it classified as a class A drug, when one has more chance of dying cycling to work and back every day, than you do from taking an E or two at the weekend. And what is the point of the costly police time and effort? Who are the law makers protecting here? And from what?
As so many people enjoy taking ecstasy at the weekends without any negative effect, the classification of the drug as class A could lead E users to assume that cocaine or Heroin are equally “safe”. After all, the government tell us they are equally harmful, they are all class A.. If as a regular user you know E does you no long term damage and that deaths arising are no worse than death’s arising from crossing the road, you could be forgiven for assuming Coke and Heroin must be the same, as they are all Class A!
That is a dangerous message. Taking cocaine has proven long term health risks and is heavily addictive- unlike taking E (side effects are a problem, but rare). Addiction to cocaine - and the funding of that habit- causes crime and family problems and therefore negatively affects others in a way that taking E never could. So why do the government send the message that the two are equally harmful?
The government’s inability to form legislation based on evidence is shocking. When their own advisor (Professor David Nutt) recently made a similar point, he was sacked. A lot of this is tabloid politicking and the fault really does lie at the spineless politicians and the shameful misreporting of science in the mass media.
Think of the time and money the Police must waste stopping people selling and taking E. Think of the quality of the E people are taking due to the fact that the government cannot control the quality of something that is illegal. Think of how many people move from E to coke and maybe even Heroin as they mix with the same dealers, and the message form the government is that these drugs are no different to each other!
If ecstasy were legalised it could be licensed. The quality could be controlled, distribution to minors could be controlled, real scientific studies could be done on the long term effects of regular exposure and people (the people that take it anyway) would not be funding gangs of organised criminals when they buy them. They could in fact be paying taxes into the exchequer, perhaps to find treatment centres for heroin addicts, by getting people off smack they would no longer need to burgle your house in order to pay the illegal gangs for the heroin they are addicted to. It’s a virtuous circle, one that escapes the tiny minds of the Daily Mail pandering MP’s.
Legalising a relatively safe drug does not send the message that all drugs are safe. Quite the opposite, it shows people that some drugs are relatively safe and others – the illegal ones- really are not. Lumping them all in together does nothing but cloud the issue. People should have the right to take risks with their own bodies; I think the government has a duty to tell people what those risks are, not to lie to pacify an ignorant minority of voters.
That’s what I think.. What do you think?
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