The connection between oil, money, power, lies and votes becomes more predictable with every year. In Britain, it has been strengthened by the passive acceptance of globalism….and the dilution of ethics that goes with it. At a macro level in the media – or micro level on the ground – it is unmissable. It is trickling down like wealth never did and never will.
Oil was, as of last Friday, at $80 a barrel on the major bourses. The line on why the price continue to rise is, in the business pages and broadcast websites, astonishingly similar. It is, we are told, based on “supply interruption concerns”. In, for instance, Iran.
But nobody is attacking Iran, are they? Well, President Trump and his minders would like to. So, um, I suppose maybe somebody in Texas got wind of it and thought, ‘that seems like a nifty way to get the price up’. And – you know how it is in a gossipy business – the Bush telegraph probably went into action, and some of the Saudi hand-choppers thought the same.
And so oil converted into money, and everyone in the global oil supply business felt hugely relieved. But it doesn’t work too well for sovereign exchequers, because they tend to relieve oil barons of, you know, the crushing weight and time-wasting tedium of paying tax. This means that people like UK Chancellor Philip Hamshank are perpetually in search of schemes via which the serfs become obliged to to wait longer for the money they’re owed, and/or cough up yet more money while they’re waiting.
Betting (as a form of both fantasy and addiction) is a social evil to which the most vulnerable in society are particularly prone. So many of us were pleasantly surprised when the Conservative Government announced its radical decision to slash the slot-machine maximum bet from £20 to just £2.
But – and there is always a but with Philip Scammond – as with cigarettes and booze, the evils of betting always represent a virtue-signalling rationale for increasing tax. So a reduction of 90% in the income from one-armed bandits has been sabotaged by the Chancellor via the ever-popular tactic of delaying its passage. He is clearly hoping that, as with Brexit, delay can be turned into disappearance.
In the meantime, the Betting industry will continue to
bribe lobby Ministers involved in decisions involving the addictions of the desperate. Which probably explains why DWP Minister Esther McVey quietly pocketed £540 worth of VIP Cheltenham Gold Cup tickets for herself and her partner (also a Tory MP).
You see, oil lubricates cash liquidity, and money oils the wheels of government. It’s all mutually beneficial. If somewhat inbred.
But without all this, there can be no power. Momentum-Corbynista Labour has the scent of power in its nostrils, and so there is much sanitising of its baggage in play. To attract the votes, Good Lies are now required fayre: and the Hard Left cynics are happy to pay the fare.
Thus, a media bombardment of May’s ruthlessness (richly deserved) was orchestrated by Project Jezzer in support of just 65 illegally deported people; and to keep the luvvie “liberals” on board, Owen ‘Jones the Smash Demo’ is red-hot for getting onto the streets to protest ‘in our hundreds of thousands’ against a visit by Donald Trump.
There are lots of votes in lachrymose bollocks, but not many in demonstrations to protest the obscenity of multi-faceted liar and liberty-murderer Recep Erdogan shaking hands with the Prime Minister on the steps of 10 Downing Street. So just 50 people turned up. Almost all of them were Kurds. In the voyage to Our Socialist Paradise, liberty is a disposable deckchair to be thrown over the side….the better to increase our speed along the way.
Alongside Good Lies from the Left, there are – in equal measure – Lies for the Good of the Shareholders from the Right. The widespread nature of such lies in the UK’s hitech telecoms sector has just been revealed by a study of real internet speeds using real-time measurement. Conducted among 235,000 British broadband victims, it showed that fully 51% of users were receiving ‘significantly below promised internet speeds’. We know not as yet what if anything is going to be done about this.
However, rest assured that Jeremy Hunt’s misinformation campaign to undermine the NHS will continue unabated. For while he will get the votes of Tory Smuggies forever and at least one day, he must keep lying in order to keep the Decency Franchise confused. Mr Rhymeenge-Slange’s snapshot NHS stats pour a degree of olive oil on Abigail’s chattering dinner parties in Colchester and Basildon, but beyond the ’62-day’ (two month) target delays for cancer treatment, the reality is that two thirds of all patients wait longer than 180 days. Or, put another way, 66% of potentially terminal sufferers wait 200% longer than the Health Secretary decreed.
The UK media pack have thus far also pathetically failed to contest the dubious account given by the Health Secretary about under-reporting of cancer diagnoses over the last nine years. (See earlier Slogpost)
Lies for Votes trickle down to become Lies for Sales in the population as a whole.
I came back to the UK (mercifully briefly) to take part in and thoroughly enjoy my younger daughter’s wedding. Her marriage to a fine young man went off smoothly yesterday, and was one of the happiest days of my life.
The one and only downside was the inevitable economic intercourse with the UK’s hugely-trumpeted service industries.
The first of these occurred within twenty minutes of landing, and involved yet another collision with the simian lifeforms involved in the car hire business.
It turned out I was late to pick up a car I’d reserved. Not only did this involve me having to pay a penalty, the car had been unreserved and given to someone else. And sadly – would you believe it? – the only car they had left was going to cost me over twice the one I’d reserved….up to but not including the reservation bit.
Then we moved on to the boxes I hadn’t ticked online. Did I, the grinning employee asked, realise that the advertised “deal” for which I’d opted effectively left me open to unlimited suits for damages – were I to be involved in an accident involving anything from grazed eyebrows to multiple deaths?
Er…no, I answered, given that there was nothing in their offer copy to suggest that outcome.
Did I understand, he schmoozed, that the deal required me to lodge a deposit of £1,000 to protect the company against such suits?
Did I realise that the insurance involved me in a £1500 excess on any damage caused during the hire? Did I understand that the deal gave me a mileage allowance of only 90 miles a day?
I did not (I replied) because such joyous consequences were not included in the copy.
I was then asked why I hadn’t printed out and studied in detail the 94 pages of half-point flyshit prose wherein were hidden such terms and conditions.
I had already paid €70 upfront. I left the “cabin” of car hire devoid of a further £185 of lifetime savings.
And all for the doubtful privilege of driving a car I hadn’t ordered further than 370 miles over three days.
Along the counter, two more employees were giving a similar spiel to other unsuspecting mugs. I asked my smiley new friend what the penalty was for bringing the car back with less than a brimming full tank of petrol.
“An £80 penalty plus twice the retail price required to top up the tank,” he said.
That first resort of all neoliberal apologists caveat emptor is a bit of a sick joke in this context. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could all tie our votes for one or another political Party to untold reams of exceptions, fines, legal suits and impenetrable clauses enabling us – at will – to bang them all up in the Chateau d’If unto eternity?
I arrived at my hotel, checked in, and was told that – as they were “very busy tonight” – I would do well to reserve a table for dinner.
When I turned up for dinner, there was a grand total of five diners on the Maitre d’s sheet.
“The answer’s a lie, now what’s the question?’