Silence and elk...

The rabbit would like to apologise for recent blogsilence which is due to his life having been taken over by a huge conspiracy to import cannabis case. The case continues for probably another two weeks but normal rabbiting will be resumed as soon as possible. In the interim, here is a jolly story from Sweden to keep readers going with Hat Tip to Mahal and BBC news.

"A homeowner in southern Sweden got a shock when he found a drunken elk stuck in his neighbour's apple tree.

The animal was apparently on the hunt for fermenting apples when she lost her balance and became trapped in the tree.



Per Johansson, from Saro near Gothenburg, found the elk making a roaring noise in the garden next door.
 He called the emergency services, who helped him free the boozed-up beast by sawing off branches. She spent the night recovering in the garden.



The next day she took herself off into the woods with her hangover.



It is not unusual to see elk, or moose as they are known in North America, drunk in Sweden during autumn, when there are plenty of apples about.



Other residents of Saro had seen the elk on the loose in the preceding days.


Mr Johansson said the elk appeared to be sick, drunk, or "half-stupid", the Associated Press reported".

Hic...

Bad taste day, la tomatina, appendage and gift

With Hat Tip to Peter Harvey, the rabbit's attention has been drawn to an annual event in the Spanish village of Bunoi called 'la tomatina'. The streets run red - not with blood but with - erm - squashed tomatoes as up to 40,000 tomato throwers turn up and throw tomatoes at each other. As you do.

There are strict rules to la tomatina: the tomatoes must be crushed to lessen impact, old clothes are to be warn and tennis shoes are to be worn rather than sandals. One can easily imagine a sandal floating away in a torrent of pureed tomatoes. A common problem, I'm sure all will agree. Goggles are advised. One website announces 'there is no political or religious significance to la tomatina'. Ermmm... Quite so. It was banned for a while under Franco, though. Puts you right off tomatoes - as in eating them - apparently.

It is the rabbit's unpleasant duty to advise his readers that Hurricane Irene did not stop bad behaviour on the part of at least one reprobate as can be seen from this news clip. Such behaviour is of course to be deprecated, particularly in such a difficult time. Hat Tip to Tony who does an exceedingly fine blog. For those of a sensitive disposition well - look away now.



Continuing the bad taste theme, the rabbit mentioned the Velvet Underground's The Gift in all its poor taste in a comment on JoJo's blog . Apparently it originates from a short story Lou Reed wrote in a creative writing class but it's the way John Cale tells it...

Rabbit at the cricket, Libya, East Coker and Jerry Lieber

The rabbit hopped off to the last day of the last England v India Test Match (that's as in international cricket American persons) and took some pictures on his phone cam. Here are the photos. Yes the game can last 5 days (as this one did) and still not produce a result (makes sense to me) but in fact there was aresult and England won and thus became officially the best team in the world and got a seriously dangerous looking mace as trophy to prove so. The game was at the Oval in south London, a ground the rabbit is very fond of. The above pic is of the Vauxhall end.

Above is a view straight across the ground from the rabbit's seat. I think it's Anderson bowling to Tendulkar but I might be completely mistaken about that. I should say that though I wanted England to win and do a whitewash, I wanted to see Tendulkar get his hundredth international century too. As it turned out, he got out on 91 and remains stranded on 99 international centuries.

For the sake of completeness, here is the view towards the pavilion end. the light was not on my side on this one. The players are on a drinks break hence the huddle of white clad people on the pitch.

By mid afternoon the crowd got skittish and started a Mexican wave. I think this is the Mexican wave heading our way but it isn't very clear. Sorry about that.

And this is the moment that England won. I detest nationalism but confess to being something of a patriot.

This photo is from the awards ceremony at the end. At first on reviewing the pictures I couldn't work out why I took it, then I remembered being amused by the small boy on his father's shoulders waving an oversized blue hand about.

While on the subject of small boys, here is the England cricket lion, purchased for the newest and smallest rabbit on the day.

On a completely different topic, I then spent until far too late on Monday evening watching events in Tripoli on tv. It must be said - although it gives me no pleasure - Sky News had the BBC knocked into a cocked hat as to coverage. While the BBC had endlessly repeated footage from earlier that day and talking heads, Sky had Alex Crawford on one of the Mad Max style rebel vehicles as it drove deeper and deeper into Tripoli. Compulsive viewing and huge credit to Alex Crawford who will surely win some sort of award for pluckiness and drama.

East Coker (above) is a village in Somerset associated with T.S. Eliot and in particular his Four Quartets, the second of which is entitled East Coker - yes folks, the one beginning 'in my beginning is my end'. Now Eliot was a difficult man and some of his racial attitudes in particular cannot be excused but I would give just about any body part (no, not that one, there are limits) to write poetry like he did. Try The Wasteland for size. What can I say apart from pure genuis? Don't attempt to answer that. It's a rhetorical question.

In any event a campaign is afoot. There is a proposal to build 3,700 houses nearby on the fringes of Yeovil on what is presently open arable land.

People need houses and I am against nimbyism (not in my back yard) but no. Not there. There is a proposal to go for world heritage status for East Coker if that is what it takes to stop the development. The rabbit says leave East Coker as it is!

And finally, the rabbit was sad to learn that Jerry Lieber of Lieber and Stoller fame died the other day. They wrote the above - among a lot of other stuff. Enjoy!

Of riots and sentences and even more Christine

David 'Dave' Cameron, a prime minister, has not by general consensus had a good - I struggle for the phrase - breakdown in social norms period. I mention in passing that the rabbit has received an e-mail nominating Cameron for the hitherto nonexistent Knob of the Year award. You got it! Cameron has appeared peevish, superficial, not quite on top of things - oh and various beastly people keep reminding him of his Bullingdon Club past. Invitations to 'Dave' to give a rendition of the famous chant 'Buller, Buller, Buller! Buller, Buller, Buller! We are the famous Bullingdon Club, and we don't give a fuck!' are unlikely to be greeted with a favourable response.

So 'Dave' has gone for that old standby for politicians in trouble, playing tough. Oh yes, he is tough. Words can hardly describe the toughness that is 'Dave'. In full on showboating mode, 'Dave' pronounced 'what happened on our streets was absolutely appalling behaviour and to send a very clear message that it's wrong and won't be tolerated is what the criminal justice system should be doing'.

Now as a legislator, 'Dave' is entitled to alter the criminal justice system in any way he sees fit - not matter how idiotic - but where 'Dave' can butt out is as regards providing the mood music to a certain approach to sentencing. It's a seperation of powers thing. Inevitably Home Secretary Theresa May has joined in the 'tough' rhetoric. From Labour a deafening silence - Labour decided in the Blair era that it was never again going to risk the 'soft on crime' label and has duly maintained a stony silence subject to coded - even impenetrable - comments by Miliband (E). Grudging respect has to be given to some Lib Dems for actually standing up to this farrago of bully pulpit posturing.

Just a few comments. One subtext is the moral panic as regards Facebook/Twitter as if the riots were all orchestrated by these media. I suspect the proposition is overstated, as is the proposition that gangs were the driving force behind the disorder. Now gangs undoubtedly exist and are undoubtedly in many ways a menace but I do not accept that the events of last Sunday to Tuesday were instigated and manipulated by a collection of 15 year old Napoleons. When the likes of China or Mubarak's Egypt close down or hyper regulate social networking sites then we rightly cry foul. Some overexcited media talk and we are in danger of sleepwalking into regulation ourselves.

The proposals to evict council tenants if an occupier - not necessarily even the tenant(s) - is convicted of a riot related offence. This smacks of collective punishment - outlawed in times of war by the Geneva Convention. Why stop at eviction? How about some West Bank style house demolitions?

Sentencing - yes, some sentences are off the wall kneejerk responses. Also, the climate in which the normal sentencing guidelines appear to no longer apply produces bizarre disparities. For example in one case in Bury St Edmunds a 17 year old escaped custody after posting to his Facebook friends  'I think we should start rioting - it's about time we stopped the authorities pushing us about. It's about time we stood up for ourselves for once so come on riot - get some - LoL'. We are in silly kid territory here. He received a community rehabilitation order and a year's ban from social media. Meanwhile Jordan Blackshaw, 20, and Perry Sutcliffe-Keenan, 22 - both of previous good character - were sentenced to 4 years imprisonment for inciting a riot that never happened on Facebook. Similarly and equally contentiously, a student with no previous convictions was sentenced to 6 months imprisonment for stealing £3.50 worth of bottled water. Over the top? Even in the context if a riot, the rabbit thinks so.

In a way most troubling of all - because of the presumption of bail which follows from the presumption of innocence - large numbers of people who would undoubtedly be granted bail with little difficulty in another context are being remanded in custody. It has never been suggested here that the particular problem of the riots has simple causes or invite simple solutions but the one thing that must be true is that the powers that be cannot imprison their way out of the problem.

Plus the rabbit is shocked to have to announce that Piers 'Moron' Morgan has so provoked poor Christine with his impertinenvce that she felt herself constrained to walk off set. There is no excuse for bad manners, I am sure all will agree. Hat Tip to Catchy

Apes, Knob Extra and Christine

As threatened yesterday, the rabbit hopped off with no great expectations - and despite an e-mail from Boston, Mass saying not to waste the rabbit's time on it -  to see Rise of the Planet of the Apes. It's actually okay. Even better than okay. I'd seen the criticism that it doesn't have a plot but in point of fact it does. Quite a clever one too. Good visually too. Go see. Ave Caesar.

Yesterday's posting was somewhat rushed so did not quite give the magnificence that is Michele Bachmann full exposure - but did give her one too many 'l' in her first name. Anyway, Michele has an unusual husband named Marcus who is involved with la Bachmann in a body - I don't actually think it is called Pray Away The Gay - but that is the general idea - which helpfully explains that prayer could rid people of homosexual urges and resulting in eventual be 're-orientation'.

Don't try this one at home kids. Andrew Sullivan, the excellent Sunday Times American correspondent describes Marcus to the effect of him being camper than Graham Norton which would suggest that all may not be well on the re-orientation front chez Bachmann. Mind you they have loads of children, Oh never mind...

More sensibly, our heroine introduced a  Light Bulb Freedom of Choice Act. No doubt a useful piece of legislation.

Meanwhile Michelle's co-knob Rick Perry has signed execution warrants for some ridiculous number of people including at least one apparently innocent person. Seems a very suitable candidate. Just like Michele.

Even more meanwhile, Christine O'Donnell keeps e-mailing the rabbit. Her latest news is that she has a book coming out. Here is the link to the Publishers Weekly webpage for this august opus. Go on! Post a comment! You know you want to! Most demented comment wins a Golden Rabbit (virtual of course).

Fawkes on state strangulation and Knob of the Week 6....



Recent events have rather buried the story of Paul Stainey aka Guido Fawkes and his e-petition to restore capital punishment for the murder of children and police officers killed in the line of duty.  He has no chance but 100,000 signatures and the petition is debated in Parliament. Suggestions that Stainey is simply on a self-promotion binge are of course to be deprecated.

In the unlikely event that he reads this, a question from the rabbit. If murder is proved against any person for the killing of the three young men in Birmingham who were seeking to protect their neighbourhood - and neighbours - then that would not be capital murder on Planet Stainey. In what sense are  the murders of children and police officers killed in the line of duty 'worse' than the Birmingham deaths if proved to be murder and thus by exytension more 'deserving' of the death penalty? I ask as someone opposed to capital punishment in all circumstances.

Or are we in self indulgent bollocks territory here?

Which leads seamlessly to another Knob of the Week Award and the first joint award of this prestigious prize. The rabbit declares the joint winners toibe Republican presidential candidates Michelle Bachmann and Rick Perry. Bachmann has recently left her church - a body being of the opinion that the Pope is the antichrist. Now there are many criticisms that can be made of the Pope but the criticism that he is the antichrist suggests not playing with a full deck so Bachmann (a) looks a flake for being a member of such a church in the first place and (b) looks opportunist for having left it as she launches a campaign for the Republican nomination, it presumably not having escaped her attention that there are millions of US Roman Catholic voters out there who might be less than impressed at the thought of an adherent of a church considering their spiritual leader as the antichrist. And as for Perry - well it is hardly coming over all Dawkins to view this as wholly inappropriate for a political leader in his capacity as such. It didn't work by the way.

While on the subject of knobs, follow the link for some innocent fun at the expense of 'Dave', a Prime Minister. Hat Tip to Nathaniel Topley via Charon QC.

I'll say a little more about the riots soon but must dash - with no great expectations - to see Thingy of the Planet of the Apes. Some clown in central Croydon was wandering about 'singing' the following song tunelessly the other day. He wins deputy knob.

After the riots

A few random thoughts. The header is 'after the riots'. I think that's it. The killing of the three young men in Birmingham has caused such a wave of disgust that there will be no more riots. Until the next time.

The above photo is the most bizarre - as opposed to dramatic or tragic - to emerge from the riots. For overseas readers and the terminally inattentive the man in the middle with the red tie is Ed Miliband, a leader of the opposition and the woman to his left (okay his right, our left) is Harriet 'Hattie' Harman, his deputy. What is the bizarre bit is the unnaturally excited expression on Hattie's face. The man with the headphones is wearing a T shirt. it reads:

IF IN DOUBT PULL IT OUT!

Surely this prospect could not be the cause of Hattie's blissed out expression?

Best riot related quote comes from journalist Aditya Chakrabortty: 'It was almost Proustian. Except the madeleines were looted'. Ermmm. Quite so.

Most bizarre riot related fact: The Iranian government offered to send human rights monitors to Britain. I confess myself somewhat puzzled by the idea of Iranian human rights monitors. What exactly do they do usually?

 

 

More seriously, the man who probably stopped the riots is Tariq Jahan ,father of one of the three young men killed in Birmingham on Tuesday night. He was heartbroken and heartbreaking. I do believe it was his words that basically stopped the riots bar the shouting.

 

 

And the shouting will now commence, starting at the recalled House of Commons today. Two nonsenses need eliminating in very short order. Firstly, the riots were not about, or caused by 'the cuts' in some mechanical way. Secondly, nor were they simply about human wickedness without context other than the wickedness itself. This is not a nation at ease with itself. Remember that to the extent there are 'feral' youths on the rampage, there are also - as touched on recently - feral elites. Our rulers - politicians, bankers, media players - think the rules don't apply to them either. Then it becomes no surprise that the underclass take over the former Bullingdon Club role as Lords of Misrule as the former members of the latter move on to other things, such as being Prime Minister or Mayor of London.

Okay, and as a parting shot some more relevant Clash stuff.

Afterthought to riot diaries...

There is a British propensity to carry on through all sorts of lunacy as if nothing is happening. As immortalised by this scene from Carry On Up The Khyber.

the riot diaries...

Unless you have been hiding under a stone or engaged in trekking in the more remote parts of Papua New Guinea, it will not have escaped your attention that there has been a revival of the occasional British summer recreation of rioting and looting. The supposed cause is the fatal shooting by police of Mark Duggan in Tottenham (that's in North London overseas readers) on Thursday the 4th August. The shooting led to a peaceful protest at Tottenham police station on the following Saturday which lead to rioting in that area on Saturday night which spread to neighbouring areas on Sunday night which went viral yesterday. No, I don't think the rioting is anything to do with the Duggan case - his family have dissociated themselves from it. The motivation is excitement and greed. It is fair comment to say that the rioters - or some of them - are young people who have little or no sense of having a stake in society  It is also fair to say that much of the policing of inner city areas is heavy handed if not to say downright oafish and stereotyped - but this is scant consolation (or excuse) if you have just been burnt out of your home or business by the rioters. So it's just plain wrong and to talk as I saw Darcus Howe do on BBC News 24 this morning of 'popular insurrection' is total rubbish. That it ain't.

So.... My day in riot zones. Yesterday I was at Edmonton County Court. At about 3 o'clock the message arrived from police. Rioters heading your way. Evacuate and close the court. Rapidly 'adjourned part heard' as we say in the trade. I walked down to White Hart Lane railway station with a law student and an interpreter who had been on my case. Now this is mid afternoon there was a lot of broken glass about from a series of shattered shop windows but the place was eerily calm. There were people about but nothing unusual. It was just like a normal Monday afternoon - apart from the broken glass. We got on a train to Liverpool Street. Uneventful.

After a couple of hours in the office I went to Earl's Court to meet a friend who is over from Macau. We had dinner and thereupon repaired to his hotel to share a bottle of wine. Both my children ring. Am I all right? Did I know Croydon is ablaze (I moved to Croydon about 2 months ago)? I should say that I had got a text saying that the Croydon branch of my gym had closed for 'security reasons' but otherwise hadn't followed the news other than to gather that there had been street disturbances in the day in Hackney, apparently triggered by a police stop and search. My gym is in Surrey Street, Croydon. The below image is from Surrey Street last night. It is of a  woman jumping from her first floor flat. Police at street level are waiting to catch her.

I decided I'd better get back. I travel to Victoria station - again uneventfully. At the back of my mind is the thought that maybe trains to East Croydon (my local station) have been cancelled. No - there is a train stopping at East Croydon leaving in about 5 minutes. I'm on it. It stops at Clapham Junction and then on to East Croydon. Older son is still concerned.

There follow a series of texts. Let the texts take up the story:

White Rabbit: So far so good. Got to Clapham Junction safely.

Older son: Get out of Junction. There are hundreds of kids tearing it apart.

WR: Station was fine. passed through it now.

The railway station was completely peaceful. No sign of the mayhem outside.

OS: Ok cool. Yeah they are completely fucking up Clapham Junction. The riot is a big thing :0

Younger son later told me he was driving through Clapham Junction and kids with stolen televisions were running across his path. He got back safely and kept checking if I was all right. They are good like that.

After a historical digression as regards Brixton (see image below from Brixton last night), there are exchanges about copycat activities in Birmingham.



The train stops at Selhurst. This is not a scheduled stop, I don't like this. Have they closed East Croydon and are planning to turf us out at Selhurst?The idea of walking from Selhurst through a riot zone or trying to find a cab is not attractive.

WR: Train stopped at Selhurst.

WR: Ah - moved again.

OS: LOL

I got to East Croydon. Lots of police on station forecourt. Only one exit still opened. I walk through. A large group of people on the other side of the road. No hostility or anything. They are just standing around. I head briskly back to the flat - a ten minute walk. My ex texts to see if I am all right. I call her, son and friend from earlier that evening. Yes, I'm fine thank you. Meanwhile in another part of central Croydon...



May you live in interesting times. Only one song to end this posting with... For more images follow this link.

Okay, I can't help it...

Okay, I'd promised myself no babypics on White Rabbit but just one can't hurt can it? Anyway, it's August and no-one's looking. Above is baby's first trip to a restaurant - okay Pizza Express as can be seen from the menu - aged 8 days. He has just been fed and filled a nappy so looks appropriately relaxed. The smallest small rabbit still doesn't have a name but is known to a number of people including his grandfather as 'Clint' - the baby with no name after the man with no name. All will become clear... Oh and the object middle right edge of the photo isnt Thing from The Munsters but his father's (still connected) right hand.

The thought police stopped in their tracks...

About the first thing taught to the law student is that there is no such thing in English law as thought crime. Or to put it another way, people are tried for what it is said they did and not for what they are.

No-one appears to have told PC Plod aka the City of Westminster police's  - erm - counter terrorist focus desk (sic) who have communicated with local businesses and residents to the effect that informing on anarchists to the local old bill - just for being anarchists - is a worthy activity. 'Anarchism is a political philosophy which considers the state undesirable, unnecessary, and harmful, and instead promotes a stateless society, or anarchy. Any information relating to anarchists should be reported to your local police' they pronounce.

Sex and travel spring to mind as an appropriate response. The City of Westminster police whatever-it-is lumped anarchists together with Islamist terrorists (but not the EDL). It has been pointed out that to be an anarchist is not to be a criminal, that anarchists advocate grassroots organising as opposed to acts of terrorism and that some anarchists are also pacifists. They may not be constitutionalists but - at the risk of labouring the point - we do not have thoughtcrime.

Happily, plod has become embarrassed by the episode. Cue a climbdown by Belgravia's finest. The call for finger pointing  - sorry information 'could have been better worded' Scotland Yard admitted. Indeed it could. 'The Metropolitan police service does not seek to stigmatise those people with legitimate political views' we are reassured.

Oh good. Some basic 'how not to make an idiot of yourself' training seems in order. The rabbit confesses to very mild and wishy washy anarchist sympathies - but don't tell the Belgravia police.

Meanwhile, an interesting idea has been floated as a response to what its proposers calls 'feral elites' - political (as in MP's expenses), financial (bankers' bonuses and conduct generally - 'nuff said?) and media (just the word 'Murdoch' will suffice methinks).

Just as Leona Helmsley notoriously said 'only the little people pay taxes' our rulers appear to hold the unshakeable conviction that the rules are only for the little people and not for them. They apparently have some sort of dispensation.

A People's Jury of a thousand citizens has been proposed. It's an interesting idea. Watch this space. The rabbit apologises if some recent postings have been dangerously near to serious. Usual silliness will be resumed as soon as possible. Didn't we do well by the way?

Sex and drugs and Members of Parliament....

The above named chapess is named Louise Mensch - Louise Bagshawe as was until her recent marriage. She is Conservative MP for Corby, which - let the record show - is a dump. She attracted a certain amount of attention in failing to ask any seriously searching questions to Papa and Baby Doch when they were before the Culture, Media and Sport Committee of the House of Commons (a failure she shares with the rest of the Committee with the partial exception of Tom Watson MP).

An 'investigative journalist' has been on our heroine's case. He goes by the name of David Jones but may be just about anybody. Feel free to drop him a virtual line if curious  - like so davidjones1232@gmail.com and ask. 'Jones' has failed to state what newspaper or magazine he was proposing to place the 'story' of our Louise's somewhat historic misdemeanours in. 'What misdemeanours?' I hear overseas readers - and no doubt some British ones - cry?

Well...

The Jones 'indictment' reads as follows... 'Whilst working at EMI, in the 1990s, you (Mensch) took drugs with Nigel Kennedy at Ronnie Scott's in Birmingham, including dancing on a dance floor, whilst drunk, with Mr Kennedy, in front of journalists'

Poor sentence construction there but I digress...

La Mensch's response? She said she couldn't remember but the incident 'sounds highly probable' .

Probably too stoned to remember.

Seriously, as  responses go that one has class. Warming to her theme, Louise confesses 'since I was in my twenties, I'm sure it was not the only incident of the kind; we all do idiotic things when young. I am not a very good dancer and must apologise to any and all journalists who were forced to watch me dance that night at Ronnie Scott's'.

The rabbit trusts the apology soothes any distress experienced by the assembled reptiles.

Oh and it turned out that la Mensch was fired from EMI. In the rabbit's opinion, anyone who has never been fired by an employer is too much of a goody goody to be allowed out. 'Jones' alleges that she was fired for writing fiction with a sexual content (aka chick lit) in working hours. 'It (the writing) was all done after work hours. It was also not why I was fired by EMI. "Leaving work early"and "missing the odd day at work" along with "inappropriate dress" were the reasons quoted to me'.

The rabbit is not generally a fan of Conservatives but the more he learns of this person, the more he likes her. Tragically, no further details are given of the "inappropriate dress".

Given the investigations into tabloid hacking, a conspiracy theory can be created around these 'investigations'. The rabbit's hunch is that just some random idiot with no judgement is behind the non-story. In any event, one person comes out of the story with credit and his name ain't Jones.

Some Grateful Dead for the weekend...

Things a bit hectic as may be imagined after recent events but I was playing some Dead on YouTube while trying to catch up with work things and here are a coupleI don't think I've posted this version of Uncle John's Band - from the Radio City Halloween concert 1980 before, But if I have - enjoy again anyway.

I've certainly never posted this clip - New Speedway Boogie - Toronto 1970 as I've never come across it before. The film quality is a bit hazy but these things can't be helped. Note Pigpen on harp. The song is about Altamont yenno.



One more? Oh okay then - Sugar Magnolia Stanford University 9th February 1973. I think it must be sound only with assorted concert clips and stills added. If this doesn't get you moving then check your pulse. You are probably dead.

Knob of the Week 5

Just to show that grandparenthood has not mellowed the rabbit much, here is the fifth in what is turning into a more than occasional series - White Rabbit Knob of the Week. For snobbery above and beyond the call of duty and indifference to our liberties, this week's winner of the august award is John Beveridge QC (above). Our man is concerned about protests and has called on theresa May, a Home Secretary, to ban 'left-wing' marches in Piccadilly after damage to the Ritz at anti-cuts protests earlier this year.

Adding much to the sum total of human knowledge, he announced that such marches attracted 'ragtag protesters who 'become violent and urinate all over the place'.

Ermmm... Simultaneously?

Warming to his theme, Beveridge adds 'I have written to the Home Secretary, who has responded in the usual pusillanimous and ambiguous way, that these marches should be sent on routes that don’t take them past Fortnum and Mason and Cartier and the Ritz, that pass ordinary shops that won’t so inflame them. There’s no fun for them in attacking Safeway or Costcutter, but they love beating up the Ritz

The Home Secretary should have a bit more political guts and say that this type of march must be diverted elsewhere'

Asked if he was concerned such restrictions might infringe on some democratic rights, he said he 'couldn’t care less'.

The couldn't care less bit is the clincher. Consider yourself awarded Knob of the Week...

As an equal opportunity blogger the rabbit is pleased to award Deputy Knob of the Week to  the first female person to reach such distinction, namely U.S. Alternate Representative to the UN Rosemary DiCarlo for opposing Palestine's application to the UN for full membership status on the grounds that it is 'unilateral'. Putting aside the point that with 120 supporting countries, this a somewhat odd example of unilateral....

Ermmm....
Wasn't the American Declaration of Independence just a touch unilateral?

The rabbit is a grandfather

Baby boy - no name yet - safely arrived at St Thomas' Hospital this morning!

Fat Freddy's Cat, Hawkwind and Deputy Knob

The rabbit has been asked, 'who is Fat Freddy's Cat'? A reasonable question, I am sure all will agree. There is a context, Namely that the rabbit's Yahoo identity is 'fatfreddyscat'. The answer is that Fat Freddy's Cat was a spinoff cartoon strip from Gilbert Shelton's Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers cartoon strips. Fat Freddy was the obtuse, dope addled Freak Brother (okay they were all dope addled but Freddy was particularly dim). His cat, on the other hand, was brighter than him. Not that this was difficult.

He was in the of habit of showing his contempt for the brothers by various tricks such as using their headphones as an - erm - cat toilet and clawing upon their black vinyl.

Beyond being a put upon subverter of human stupidity, Fat Freddy's Cat was constantly put upon himself by an array of feline nephews and nieces.

So that's about it. Save to say that so far as I know he didn't have a name apart from 'Fat Freddy's Cat' which is plainly nonsense (okay apart from apparently 'Uncle F' which doesn't count) as it is a truth universally acknowledged that all cats have names. Except for the feral ones and Fat Freddy's Cat was not a feral cat.  

The rabbit has been greatly entertained by the Friday night rock stuff on BBC4 of late. Friday before last was Kinks night which was huge fun and last Friday there was a documentary about stoned rockers Hawkwind who were really known for two things. Firstly, they had a dancer called Stacia who was 6 foot 2 and had 52 inch breasts. She used to take her clothes off and dance. She also painted herself blue in the manner of an ancient Briton. As you do. Secondly, Lemmy, later of Motörhead, was their bassist for a while - apaprently a difficult relationship (wrong sort of drugs on Lemmy's part).

The rabbit's favourite Hawkwind story is that they once turned off for a concert more than usually over-refreshed on assorted pharmaceuticals, stumbled onstage and came out with the immortal line 'we'd like to get it together but we don't think we can' and stumbled back offstage. They were part of the group who rejected the Isle of Wight festival on the grounds that music should be free and played outside the perimeter. They would reputedly often turn down paying concerts to play free ones. The rabbit was going to put up their only major hit Silver Machine only to find 'embedding disabled by request'. Guys! Guys! What is going on here? Pension fund to top up? Anyway, Hurry On Sundown makes an okay substitute.

Simply Wondered - who the rabbit has previously opined should write more - he does it very well, complains following last week's Knob of the Week to the effect that knobs in high places rather exclude the ordinary knob in the street. I suppose he has a point albeit that one previous winner of this prestigious award, 'Cranmer', is a mere blogger so there is hope for all. But in the interests of fairness, a new award namely Deputy Knob is awarded to the utterly anonymous bloke who spent the entire journey on the 7.58 Thameslink from East Croydon to City Thameslink last Friday snogging an overweight young woman. It's not so much the snogging that wins this prestigious award but the fact that every time he came up for air between snogs he made a snorting noise. Memo to Deputy Knob: this is really not nice. Do not do this in a public place.

Lucian Freud, overdoing it and Knob of the Week 4

The rabbit was sad to learn of the death of British artist Lucian Freud at the age of 88 last Wednesday. Above is his self-portrait Reflection. Freud's early works owed much to surrealism but started in his 30s to paint portraits, usually nudes to the exclusion of pretty much everything else.

Above is an early Freud portrait - Girl with a white dog from 1951-2. The sitter is in fact his first wife, Kitty. Freud had extraordinary rapport with his sitters - which is just as well as he took up a very large amount of their time - up to a year. 'You are the centre of his world while he paints you. But then he moves on to someone else' said one.

Many of his portaraits are nudes, both male and female. Above is Blonde girl on a bed from 1987. The portraits are intimate and never flattering. Some of the images are positively disturbing. Although not an outright recluse, he painted at home, never gave out his phone number and rarely left London. Among his better known sitters wer Kate Moss and fellow artist David Hockney (mercifully clothed in Hockney's case).

 

Below is Boy on a sofa from 1944. The boy, who was named Billy Lumley, tried to break into Freud's flat. Freud did a deal with him. If Lumlwey sat for him, Freud would not report him to the police. Unsurprisingly the boy accepted. The portrait was sold in the same year for £14. It recently was sold again - at Sothebys for £1.5 million.

A fascinating man and creative genius, grandson of Sigmund, brother of Clement and father of Bella. Talented lot those Freuds. Very much a man of his time. We will not see his like again.

Two stories caught the rabbit's eye yesterday, both of which seemed examples of the contemporary tendency to overdo it. Firstly, it is hard to keep track of how many Deputy Mayors London has but one is called Richard Barnes, it emerges. He is in charge of equality it transpires. Barnes is in hot water. The topic is rebuilding Euston station. Barnes as follows: 'are they like most Irish builders ... saying it's going to be roughly that' Whereupon our man licked his finger as if checking the wind direction.

Rabbit reaction. Witless Tory boy stuff. Nothing to get too worked up about though. Enter Labour Assembly member Murad Qureshi huffing and puffing for all he is worth.

'I was taken aback by the comment' pronounces our man. 'Given the huge contribution made by the Irish in building London, this is particularly offensive'.

'What is even more shocking, is that he made these comments as the Mayor's lead on equality and diversity policies. He should make an unreserved apology to the Irish in London'.


Burden has apologised. Albeit that the remark was better unsaid we are hardly in hate speech territory here. Perhaps the more highblown flights of condemnatory rhetoric should be reserved for really offensive pronouncements not the merely dumb and stereotyping.


For further overdoing it, step forward the TaxPayers' Alliance. Mervy King (above on bottom right) - of whom the rabbit is no fan - is Governor of the Bank of England. He was at the cricket at Lord's yesterday and thus incurred the ire of the TaxPayers' Alliance. Apparently King was also spotted recently at Wimblebore. 'Taxpayers might reasonably expect that given the very immediate crises in the eurozone, Mr King would spend a little less time watching sport and a little more time in the office' huffed and puffed TaxPayers' alliance campaign director Emma Boon. Give us a break (as it were). 'Man goes to sporting event' is hardly a dreadful dereliction of duty. What is he supposed to be doing? Locking himself in a vault at the Bank of England for purposes of self-flagellation? Maybe again the overblown rhetoric could be saved for something serious to complain about.

While on the subject of cricket (sort of) the rabbit is enough of a cricket anorak to notice that the USA Cricket Association is engaged in a tournament with the lengthy title of the ICC Americas Division 1 T20. He is even such an anorak as to have a look at the USA squad for the tournament. Two facts stuck out. Firstly, none of the USA squad is white. Secondly their countries of birth are as follows: Jamaica 4, Guyana 3, India 3, Pakistan 3, not stated 1. Oh and one player was actually born in the USA - the Bronx to be exact. The rabbit wishes them well in their missionary work.

Above is the winner of the fourth White Rabbit Knob of the Week, Lord Carlisle of Berriew for contributing to gagging a member of his own party - Baroness Tonge - for whom the rabbit has high regard - in the House of Lords. There is a bill going through parliament with the clunking title of the Police Reform and Social Responsibilty Bill. Tucked away in it is a clause (155 as you ask) on any sensible view originating with the arrest warrant issued by an English court against Israeli politician Tzipiu Livni. Sadly, she was never arrested on the warrant but a barrage of toys thereupon flew out of the Israeli pram. Connsequences could follow, they darkly hinted. Why being threatened by the international political equivalent of Billy No Mates is so scary remains obscure but the UK government duly rolled over and wagged its paws in the air. The right of a private individual to apply for an arrest warrant under universal jurisdiction was to go. The odious Livni and her ilk would be able to swan about the UK free of any risk of getting their collars felt for war crimes. Jenny Tonge has been one of the few to stand against this snivelling capitulation.

I copy and paste from Hansard...

Baroness Tonge - 'I will briefly run through once again the current right of a private citizen to initiate a private prosecution by applying to a senior district judge to issue an arrest warrant for such criminals as war criminals. We are
not talking about ordinary crimes, but about very big war crimes committed against international law. This ancient, common right has belonged to the people of England and Wales for many years. It is a valuable safeguard against political interference by the Government. This is why I have objected so strongly to the proposed change in Clause 155, which could delay an arrest, allowing the suspect to escape, and could introduce political interference from the Attorney-General...'

'...When we look at this issue, we begin to think-certainly, the people who lobby me in great numbers think-that the real reason for the change in the law was the incident relating to Tzipi Livni. The Foreign Secretary, for whom I have high regard, argued that in the case of Tzipi Livni, the law had been abused when an arrest warrant was issued against her ... but he did not criticise the evidence against her contained in the arrest warrant which had been obtained by a private citizen'.


Carlile sticks his nose in. Tonge lets him...

Lord Carlile of Berriew: I am grateful to my noble friend for allowing me to interrupt, and I am extremely surprised that we have not heard my noble friend on the Front Bench intervening in the way in which he intervened on my noble friend Lord Palmer of Childs Hill a few minutes ago. What my noble friend is saying is out of order, inappropriate and not related to the amendment. She is having a rant at Mrs Livni.


WR:Well she's expressing herself very moderately but so if she was?


He's trying to get her shut up on procedural grounds. He succeeds.


Baroness Tonge: I am not going to give way again. I must finish. We must contrast this action with what has happened in the past couple of weeks where Raed Salah, a Palestinian-


Lord Lucas: I beg to move that the noble Baroness be no longer heard.


Motion agreed.


At this point Jenny Tonge left.


Lord Carlile of Berriew: My Lords, I have only a few words to add. I am sorry that my noble friend Lady Tonge has chosen to disobey the normal rules of the House and has stormed out in a way which is not appropriate to noble Lords and noble Baronesses in this House. It is something that I, as a member of her party, feel very strongly about, and I hope that none of my noble friends would normally behave in that way. It is quite shocking.

Oh get over it you simpering ninny. Go play with your Knob of the Week award.

The hacker hacked...

The rabbit is shocked to report that disrespect has reached such a level that the News of the World lives on - but only by virtue of those naughty - well - class warriors at Class War who have produced an online spoof version featuring as agony aunt - the rabbit particularly loves this -  Madame Blavatsky - strapline YOU THINK YOU'VE GOT PROBLEMS? I'M DEAD!

A common problem indeed. And it gets worse - talking of being dead - the Sun website got hacked by more naughty people with a spoof claiming that Papa Doch Ruler of the Universe etc himself was - erm - dead! Do people no longer know their place? Namely obeying Murdoch? Mind you, the rabbit may have to accept a little - okay very little - part in the spate of insolence now afflicting Papa Doch in collaboration with Beau Bo D'Or going way back to last election time. I can only blush...

Tree of Life and Murdoch

The rabbit hadn't intended to see Tree of Life last night. He and companion had hopped off to Greenwich Picture House intending to see Potiche but discovered to our consternation that it was sold out. There were a few tickets left for Tree of Life - a film that had only vaguely registered at the margins of the rabbit's consciousness and as his companion was determined tos ee a film having thus far Tree of Life it was - via a quick Vietnamese meal.

To be fair, there are points to be amde in favour of Tree of Life:

The opening scenes suggestive of creation are visually very striking. Technically it's good - as in very good.
Some of the portrayals of stifling American domestic life in the 1950s are acutely observed with rather good little points of detail.
It's always good to see Sean Penn.

Beyond that? Errr....

It broadly goes like this. The opening quote from the Book of Job raises the stakes high. 'Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation...while the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy?' Then a strange flame like something appears - and reappears later in the film on more than one occasion. Now a good movie with a spiritual  - for want of a better word -  theme is, though difficult, presumably entirely theoretically possible. But if you're going to go into such problematic territory, you've got to be good. This is all over the place. In fact I can't think of an example of where Hollywood has really carried off such a theme, principally I suspect because they are too worried about offending anyone by making too clear a statement and the inevitable result is fudge. The ending - I won't give anything away - is pretty much incomprehensible except to say it involves Sean Penn going through a wholly un-necessary door to wander about with assorted relatives in various stages of life and God knows who else (so to speak) wandering about aimlessly opn a sandbank. Okay - that's a giveaway. Get over it.

The story really starts with the mother of the by then fractured family gets a telegram. Her son has dies aged 19. I assumed in Vietnam as it would fit in timescale terms but I'm now not sure. In fact I later learned that writer/director Terrence Malick's brother committed suicide at a similar age and that there is a strong autrobiographical element to the script. At pouint i felt a bit mean at having taken such a dislike to the film. I forgive myself. It's a ponderous, self-absorbed mess. We trudge througb a 1950s upbringing in Texas. The father of the family (Brad Pitt) is a controlling figure with a belief in his capacity to bend events to his will. Of course in the end events take their own course to his disadvantage and he is made redundant. The family move out of their home. What happened next is a potentially interesting sub-plot but not explored. The sub-text that we are not in control of our own destinies therefore be nice is just about a redeeming feature to the cinematic blancmange that flops around the viewer's ankles. Just about.
It may be gathered that a not very impressed rabbit left the cinema. Oh and being able to take a glass of wine from the bar into the cinema is a good thing (a large Rioja - what else* - in the rabbit's case). The prices - even with a member's discount - were not.

*maybe a Malbec but they didn't have any.

Of course I am frequently asked 'lay some truth on us O wise and all-knowing rabbit, what is your take on the Murdoch thing? You have been pretty quiet on the subject so far''.

Okay, I'm asked no such thing.

The short answer is this: I am of course suffering terminal schadenfreude at Murdoch's present difficulties and the more odium - and damage - heaped on his head the better. Essentially this is because he is the worst sort of bully - the sort that acts on the belief that they cannot be thwarted or checked in any way. They can do anything they like and there is no power on earth to stop them - they are above the law and above the constraints that make the rest of us more or less behave despite our own worst instincts. Anyone and anything that opposes them will be crushed - an individual expressing opposition will be browbeaten - usually by character assassination. A business opponent will be taken out by any means required. Political figures will be cowed and reduced to courtiers and supplicants. Public opinion will be bent to suit the Murdoch corporate interest - an interesting example is the rabid Europhobia of the Murdoch titles - a product of the fact that he plainly recognises the EU as too big and too unbiddable to bend to his will. The inevitable result - the endless torrent of abuse of the Murdoch titles.

The public probably views the hacking of celebrities' phones as naughty but not hugely reprehensible. But when the Murdoch press hacks into the mobile phone of a teenage murder victim, deletes messages to make space for more messages and thus gives her relatives false hope that she is still alive by virtue of the activity on her phone then phrases like 'low life' fail to begin to do justice to the repulsiveness of a culture that plainly - until recently wonderfully disabused - believed that it could do anything it liked and there was nothing and no-one to stop it.