Musings on the dawn of referendum day

Eurgh. So they are digging up the road outside my flat at the moment, which means I have to walk down the way a bit in order to cross it in the morning. I have to cross it because I’m going to go to some church hall I’ve never been to before, to put another kind of cross on a small bit of paper, which I’m then going to put in a box. What a way to spend a Thursday morning (well, probably afternoon by the time I’ve got up late, gone for a swim, made myself scrambled (organic) eggs and got myself sorted). Life’s tough.

And what is it with crosses anyway? Everyone’s doing those these days. Why not make it a parallelogram or regular dodecahedron and really test people’s capacity to think before they mark that paper? Or at least something, you know, funkier, for us funky types. And while we’re at it, seriously, paper? I jolly well hope it’s recycled paper, and will be recycled again after use, because you know the environment is totes important. I bet they had to use a lot of trees to make those. And there are children dying in Africa because of it. We’ll see them on the adverts at Christmas and they’ll make us feel guilty for eating our Christmas dinner, and then we’ll turn over the channel and pretend it’s all fine.

Then tomorrow night I’ll probably have to hide inside because there will be poor and ignorant people out on the streets starting fights and burning things. Seriously. This is not the middle ages. When I can bring myself to read some sort of news publication at the moment it’s what I see pictures of, so it must be true. Then I’m probably not going to get much sleep and be really cranky the day after, and all because of democracy. What a rubbish idea.

I’m not going to pretend I know a lot about democracy, because if I did, frankly I wouldn’t be writing this blog. But as far as I get it, the part where people set fire to things and bully and intimidate other people isn’t quite how it’s supposed to work? I may well be wrong. Then again I’m middle-class, so I’m never wrong. It’s one of those things that just is, and the sooner people get over it the better, I say.


The sweet, sweet irony of UKIP’s latest poster campaign.

If I’m the first to write about this then I hope I get some kind of award for investigative journalism (jokes), because I think it’s an absolute corker. But let me tease you for a sentence or two before revealing my full hand….

The facts – UKIP want the UK out of the EU. One of their (undoubtedly many, if you can bear to listen to them blabber on without wanting to chop off your own ears) reasons for this is the fact that they believe immigrants are taking jobs away from native British people. I won’t go into the politics at this moment (read someone else’s blog for that), but after the semi-gaffe of their leader employing his immigrant wife as his secretary, comes the whopper. The party this week unveiled their high-profile poster campaign, one of which features an “out-of-work” tradesman begging with a plastic cup, who we are to assume is British (the tradesman, not the cup). However, the man in question is in fact none other than Irish actor Dave O’Rourke. That’s right. An immigrant.

The implications? Embarrassment for UKIP, and a giggle for the rest of us. Clearly someone didn’t do their homework (I’m not pointing any fingers at a certain German secretary, I promise) in researching the actor’s ethnicity before plastering his handsome face across their anti-EU campaign. And I’m certainly not saying a British secretary would have been any better (although who knows?!). But for a UK political party purported to champion British workers over “unlimited cheap labour” from elsewhere, surely they could have employed a British actor as their poster boy for this campaign? You know, support for British workers and all that?

Maybe I’m being too harsh. Maybe it’s all some sort of convoluted double-bluff to prove their point about the UK being overrun by immigrants. And I’m sure once this blog goes viral, and UKIP’s PR people have produced enough positioning statements to block the Channel Tunnel and prevent any more immigrants entering the country, we’ll be treated to some equally cumbersome explanation of their choice. Either way, for now, I’m grinning (and waiting for my award, thanks).