We Are Watching Big Brother


Congratulations to "Gorgeous George," the former "Celebrity Big Brother" house cat and Saddam Hussein soul mate. Not only does the by-election bruiser slay Jews (Oona King in Bethnal Green and Bow) but he also rubs out Muslims (Ibrahim Hussein in Bradford West).

After a period in which Cameron had started looking and sounding like a rather peeved prefect as Tory dirty laundry started piling up outside his door, Georgie Boy turned it all around with a stunning kick in the pants to the Labour Party.


What made it sweeter was that the crushing defeat for Labour in its deep rear area was in part the result of the über-strategy of the Blair years, namely the scheme for Labour to retain eternal power by flooding the country with immigrants.

This is the kind of stupidity you engage in when you extrapolate from short-term trends, as Labour's spin doctors clearly did and still do. Some bright spark with a latte in Central Office noticed that 'immis' vote overwhelmingly the same way as college lecturers and social workers, so, in order to prevent another 18-year-long Blue Winter of Thatcherism, the Labour government decided to remove the border door from its hinges and lay it down as a doormat.

But what they didn't understand is why people vote Labour. Quite simply the party is a sham. Most of its supporters support it not because they support it but because they definitely don’t support other big parties, i.e. the Conservatives. In other words, the Labour Party has managed to spin a hatred for top hats and monocles common at the start of the 20th century into a rather long-running and profitable gravy train for its minions. Even the name, which might have sounded good in an era of hand-turned wrangles and riveting with sledge hammers, grates in an era where we earn our living by "logging on and having a few Ben & Jerry's." By rights, the party should have crawled off into a rusty warehouse, curled up, and died years ago.

Before Bradford exposed Labour's vulnerability to identity politics at the bottom strata of society, the hollowness of the great, clunking leviathan was amply demonstrated in Galloway's own Scotland. Incidentally, this was a place that used to make great, clunking leviathans before the shipyards shut down, round about the time that Labour itself should have shut down. George it seems wasn't the first one to land a perfect Glasgow kiss to the bridge of Labour's nose. Wee Alex Salmond of the SNP got in first when he kicked them out of the Scottish government, because, since devolution, Scots no longer need to vote Labour to keep the Tories at bay, at least not in Scotland anyway.

But back to Gorgeous, whose affinity with the green of Islam no doubt stems from his Irish roots in Dundee's "Little Tipperary" and his support for Glasgow Celtic FC, a club whose supporters have sided with Islamic radicalism ever since Colonel Gaddafi sent the IRA a shipment of arms.

Most commentators mention the "Big Brother" appearance as a colourful detail. But it's not as trivial as some may think. In the multicultural mess created by the Labour Party (with, to be fair, help from the Tories), people of all descriptions, be they bearded Muslims, shaven-headed Whites, or anybody else whose brain isn't PC-shaped, feel under surveillance.

Muslims know that, despite the government's assurances to the contrary, they are all viewed as potential terrorists, and now, more recently, as gang paedophiles. Working-class Whites by contrast are all viewed as football hooligans and potential or inherent racists. This is the whole rationale behind CC-TV Britain and our increasingly Stasi-like system of thought-crime laws, where an errant word or two can see you banged-up in prison.

By the way, an odd moral equivalence seems to have been established between shooting your mouth off on Twitter and giving 14-year-old White girls enough skag to rape and gang-bang them. But never mind that. It might get you arrested.

The main fact is that – whether they deserve it or not – a great many subjects of Her Majesty's Government, especially Labour's voting fodder, feel under surveillance by the state.

The blandness of the main leaders, the Cleggs, Camerons, and Milliblands, the micro-managers of their own boring, inoffensive images, is the faceless face of this PC, inoffensive, totalitarian Britain. Hence the surprising popularity of George! Not only is he not bland, he actually has facial hair. In the era of insipid, clean-shaven, mealy-mouthed politicos, how cool is that? Very... This guy actually hurts babies when he kisses them!

Next he's a proper bastard. We all know he loves dictators, lies fluently, and has just dumped his a wife who gave birth four months ago to marry a young Dutch Indonesian lovely. But, heck after looking at the PR robots who now define our politics with their unfalsifiable phrases and boringly unimpeachable private lives that is as refreshing a mint after a vindaloo.

The clip that is brought up most often to mock and discredit the new member for Bradford West – and "former member of Baghdad Central" – is the famous pussycat clip from "Celebrity Big Brother." But sadly for those who believe they can keep a polite lid on the disintegrating mess of modern Britain by pooh-poohing mavericks like George, it doesn't work. If anything, the reason George got elected was because of his five minutes of furball fame.

Making an arse of yourself on reality TV is the surest way for any politician to remind the voters that he isn’t part of the bland, suit-fronted Big Brother surveillance state, but, like them, is under surveillance by it, and that a vote for him may help to turn the cameras the other way.
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