Trolling Racist Van.

July 29, 2013

Stewart Lee once said that if ‘political correctness’ had achieved one thing, it had forced the Conservative Party to cloak their inherent racism behind more creative language. This July confirmed that Lee may be onto something. The Tories have evolved from this catchy little 1964 Tory campaign leaflet distributed in Birmingham at the time:


To their new, far more subtle campaign, featuring more creative, yet similarly dirty language and imagery:


The campaign has drawn condemnation from all sections of the political spectrum. From Lib Dem coalition partners like Business Secretary Vince Cable, who called the vans “Stupid and offensive”, to, amazingly, far right, anti-immigration Nigel Farage who quite rightly noted:

“The danger is that the kind of message that is being sent from these billboards will be taken not just by illegal immigrants but also by many people of settled ethnic minorities as being some sort of sign of open warfare.”

Even leader of Redbridge Council, Conservative Keith Prince was unhappy with his horrendous colleagues at the Home Office:

“If we had been consulted, we would have warned strongly that, whatever effect this campaign might be intended to have on people who are in the country unlawfully, that message is far outweighed by the negative message to the great majority of people, from all backgrounds, who live and work together in Redbridge, peacefully, productively and lawfully.”

One cannot help but wonder if Lynton Crosby has recently invested in the van industry.

It was of course, only a matter of time before this wretched little campaign fell victim to both Photoshop, and prank calls. And rightfully so. So here are a few of my favourite racist van trolls:










Racist van 8


As with all failing Tory campaigns, this particular nasty campaign complete with a thinly veiled, menacing threat – naturally used to pass through poorer, multi-ethnic areas of London – is already being touted as a success by the Home Office, without actually producing evidence to confirm. Child-like, EDL-style fear tactics, with NF procured phrases like ‘go home’, designed to spark up community mistrust, suspicion and division, rather than measured and humane approaches, to, well, anything, seems to be the basis by which all Tory policies are formulated.

I get bored

September 23, 2010

At work, when it is quiet, it is supremely quiet. I get bored quite easily. I usually take a book with me. Purely because the work itself is mind numbingly pointless. There is no social good. It is not improving my sense of self or helping to achieve any goal I have. So I take a book. However, yesterday I forgot to take a book. So I tried to concentrate on other things. Unfortunately, I was in a bit of a mood because earlier in the day, I discovered I had no milk to make tea. Being English, and having no milk for tea, is an horrific situation to find ones self in. Even now, I look back, and it makes me want to weep. When the Pope’s representative told the press that the UK was like the Third World (I watched that on my HDTV, which sits next to the XBox, and Laptop, near the second PC, in the window which over looks our two cars…… perhaps Bob Geldof should do a World concert for me and my obvious poverty stricken status), he meant with regard to lack of milk for tea, i’m sure of it. I had no milk for tea. Malnourished Ugandan orphans certainly have no milk for tea; quite clearly a link. We should listen to the Catholic Church more. They make SO much sense. So obviously it played on my mind all evening, to the point where I think I may have gone a little bit insane.

And this is the product of that insanity:

Contrary to the conclusion you may have drawn, I am not studying fine art.
I even gave him some new happy disco shoes, to celebrate.
I was trying to convey how my mood would change for the better, if I were to have some milk at home. Today I have milk at home. I thought this would make me happy. I even prepared to indulge in a happy dance.  And it did make me happy. For a second. But then, I spotted flying toward me, a flying spider. As if regular spiders aren’t horrendous enough. It had fangs, and blood dripping from them. It had a sting the size of a butchers knife pointed at me, and long hairy legs. Okay so I may be exaggerating. It probably wasn’t even a spider. They don’t fly. But this was huge. I kept my eye on it the entire time I made a cup of tea, and moved around the room methodically avoiding its evil gaze (when I wrote ‘evil gaze’ I giggled childishly because it sounds like ‘evil gays’. I’m not even Catholic. Or Right Winged American. Homophobic humour, I should get a job at Fox). I knew what it wanted, and what it wanted was to kill me. I am now locked in my bedroom, it is probably waiting outside. Although, it feels like it is on me somewhere. The same feeling I get if I walk face first into a cobweb. I presume the spider is on me. That is how this feels. It is probably waiting for me to sleep, and then it’ll bite me.  I will have to leave and enter my house from now on, through my second storey window, via a rope that I will craft out of old clothes. That is how serious this situation has become.

Anyway, after calming down a little, and deciding that having no milk is actually no big issue. I thought I would enter the realms of political and religious satire. And this is the result:

What an entirely pointless blog entry.