An occasional series about crap games
I’ve just been taking an exhaustive look at how to use, update and customise a YouTube channel. It was exhausting.
There before me, on the Google menu, were eleven choices. So I rolled the dice, and threw a seven.
I went down to ‘Your Google product storage’ and pressed it.
This came up:
I’m sorry, but we can’t tell you that, Hal. Now no more fucking around here, Hal, because we know where your kids live. And that’s not all we know. You see Hal, the answer’s a lie, now what’s the question?
For those of you unaware of the Kubrick classic 2001, look it up. On YouTube, if you like.
There’s a lady called Gillian Screechynail who offers tootoryarls to tell everyone how she got “a hunneerd THOUZan serbscryeebers” by opening a YouTube channel, and now it gives her a full time living. For those who have to listen to her voice, the experience offers only Living Death by eardrum torture: if you’ve ever seen those vids making fun of millennials, well let me tell you, this lady does the voice overs – for sure. It is just so great when it stops, I can’t describe the experience.
Switching her off, however, means you still can’t fathom why (a) you customise your channel, save the changes, and then discover it looks exactly the same as it was before you started all those hours ago; and (b) you still can’t actually create anything new, as such.
Other people whose voices don’t involve radical tympanic membrane surgery without anaesthetic are available to explain how you ‘create’ – by right-clicking on dot columns, scrolling down to ‘Other’, clicking on ‘Baseball’ and then choosing ‘Studio’.
On my browser – Google Chrome, spookily enough – there were 6.4 million earnest persons fully engaged in explaining that little journey. Which sort of does make you realise that (given Google owns YouTube as well) they must be aware of the fact that they confuse the blithering daylights out of almost everyone.
But then, that’s good for Google hits, and high hits sell well to advertisers….and now the vicious circle is complete, it’s time to throw the Dice of Life again…..
And oh dear, we’ve thrown an eleven: that means we land on the LGBTQROBLMP – the Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transexual Queer Religion Of Black Lives Matter Panpeace.
Many scumbigotfascistlittleenglandernazis criticise such put-upon unfortunates based on the double standards involved in such unity, eg, the 2019 Labour election campaign.
But not me. For I am woked. And lo, I discern a quite different commonality.
The difference is that, while lots of citizens want to put something into the UK’s Community Chest, the sole thing these folks want to know is what they can get out of it. For some are born to be radiators, and some drains.
Now please don’t misjudge me here: the disabled, the innocent poor, the cheated and the genuinely marginalised are utterly excluded from this group. For they really are the ones handed a bum deal by those suffering from Diversity Obsession Disorder.
Equally, at the other end of society, welcomed with open arms into this shower are the legislators, globalists, bankers, senior military, arms and energy dealers whose entire life is spent pulling so much out of society in return for bits of paper and plastic ponies, there’s nowhere near enough left for those holding it all together….you know, the committed small businesses, the nurses, firemen, lower ranks of the police, squaddies, paramedics, lollipop ladies and volunteer Charity Shop workers that the selfish spectrum never notice.
Jess Phillips said today that, if she became Labour leader, a Labour government would reapply to join the EU. In the two hours since I began this piece, Owen Jones has tweeted two hundred times. Not one of them involved a cheated pensioner or a poor white person. Diane Abbott’s tweets since December 24th, with one exception, are about people of colour in general, and Iran in particular.
Here’s little Nick, bless ‘im, feeling totally left out of the Labour movement:
He’s what – 3.2% of the population ethnically? – but if Labour talks about anything that isn’t ancient foreign policy, BLM, British guilt and let’s have more immigration, he’s oudda there, right? Sounds weird I know, yet this bonehead reminds me of David Buik the City apologist.
The Muslim British Council is calling for a national inquiry into Islamophobia. It isn’t calling for one into British Jihadism and how it breeds. It is still campaigning for a law to have all criticism of Islam forbidden by Law. It approves of Shariah Court justice in our jails as the only authority it recognises. It wants its own separate schools for all Muslim children.
It has yet to make any negative comment about those found guilty of running grooming and rape gangs.
And the Establishment calls this multiculturalism?
Jess Phillips is by nature gobby, divisive and gendercentric. If you’re not sexually abnormal, Owen Jones is not interested – which figures I suppose and oooooooh I’m such a bitch. Dianne Abbott, like David Lammy, is an ignorant bigot. Little Nick wants it all because he was born black and it’s your fault. The Muslim Council has no interest in a multicultural Britain: it wants to throw it’s weight around until Britain is a Sharia Culture.
Now the Illiberal Demogogues will call that last paragraph hate speech. But I don’t hate anyone who just wants his or her fair share without defining everything by culture, gender, ethnicity and sexuality.
However, all the people I’ve highlighted here have one other commonality: they all use hate speech, day in day out, about Britain. They want to impose on it – in every sense of the term.
They hate the country that gave them their nationality…..up to but not including emigrating to something better.
But as one who is not (like most Remainers) a hairy-shouty Little Englander LibLeftOut, I offer them this advice on emigration: avoid southern France, Austria, Poland, Italy, Spain and Portugal. Because there you will find bar tenders telling you Jews will sell their mothers for sixpence, soccer fans making monkey noises every time they see a black footballer, politicians openly calling for deportation of all Muslims, and councillors telling you without the slightest inhibition that they want every African thug with a knife out of their town.
Fancy moving beyond Europe? Give India a miss: their caste system will put you on the lowest social rung based on the darkness of your face. China? You’ll be a hackwoi (black devil) or a long-nose. Pakistan? Not wise if you’re a Shia Muslim. Mali in Africa? Pretty deadly if you’re a Christian.
I’m not engaging in hate speech: the term was drawn from Orwell’s novel 1984 in relation to Big Brother’s hate rallies, and only recent adopted by the very people he feared as a means to shut up everyone dealing in socio-cultural reality. I’m merely using my own empirical experience and research to puncture the ridiculous idea that only White Britons are “institutionally racist”.
My message is far more healing than that – and let me tell you, it would be welcomed by the many mature and experienced unpaid community heroes working in, for example, London’s Brixton. It is this: wake up to your ‘Poor Me’ selfishness, man up to your own faults, and work to unearth genuine injustice across the piece of your adopted homeland.
Adapt to that homeland, and help glue it together. For trust me, doing anything else will only evoke a vicious backlash, the nature of which you don’t even want to think about.