The Spoons That Are My Ears!

Yesterday I witnessed a nasty accident in the grounds of Swansea University. It involved a man with his head split open; he was losing a lot of blood and had gone into shock. I ran to fetch the campus medic and an ambulance was called for. Despite the fact that the university is next door to a hospital and an ambulance depot is no more than five minutes' walk away, it took more than half an hour for the ambulance to arrive.

Not the fault of the ambulance team! They did a great job when they reached the accident victim. No, the problem is that there aren't enough ambulances to cover the Swansea area. The British National Health Service (NHS) is underfunded, that's why. And much larger cuts are on the way; our Prime Minister, David Cameron, is pushing for them as hard as he can.

I am 45 years old and I have lived under the administration of no fewer than nine Prime Ministers (Wilson, twice; Heath; Callaghan; Thatcher; Major; Blair; Brown were the others) and I think it's safe to say that in my experience Cameron is the worst ever, even worse than Thatcher, because not only is he is a parasite, an idiot and a liar (as she was) but he is also a coward (which she wasn't).

Great Britain is very far from being 'Great' but I have always been proud to be a citizen of these isles for two reasons -- (a) our total freedom of political thought (i.e. the liberty to have whatever ideas we please about the way we want to live our lives), and (b) a caring, well-funded and efficient NHS... Cameron is doing a fine job of eroding both. What a truly magnificent little turd!

When I was young, our political leaders seemed to have guts. Even when they had bad ideas and worse policies, they weren't yellowbellies. I remember when you could shout something like, "I hope someone puts a bullet in your brain!" to a politician, even to a Prime Minister, and they would shrug it off. They had sang-froid. They knew that the threat was just words, that words are only vibrations of air in the ear, that words are pretty soft missiles to hurl at anyone. They still believed in the old adage, "Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words will never hurt me..."

There also seemed to be an understanding that frustrated citizens should be allowed to let off steam occasionally. It helps to keep the peace. Saying you are going to kill someone is a hell of a lot different from actually attempting to kill someone. It's just words. Every single day of my life I hear motorists, pedestrians and cyclists imploring each other to, "Die in agony with all your family!" That's blowing off steam. Ritualised posturing that prevents real violence.

And our former leaders seemed to recognise this. In other words, hotheads weren't discriminated against. They are now, though. If I call for the violent overthrow of Cameron (just words, folks!) then I'm liable to go to jail. Welcome to the beautiful British 21st Century, my friends! A nascent dictatorship, if ever there was one. There have been some recent high-profile cases where people have gone to jail for four years for the crime of... words! Not actions, but words. Words. Words that weren't even heeded!

A lot of British authors are clearly going to be in trouble! I wrote a short story a few years ago in which the entire human race is wiped out by a series of natural disasters... Words. Am I going to be charged and found guilty of inciting comets and volcanoes to commit genocide? Words.

What the hell have we come to? Our current 'leaders' are a bunch of oversensitive sissies with all the compassion and backbone of a compost heap. Witnessing the accident yesterday has upset me a bit, so now I'm going to blow off some steam. Ready? I want David Cameron to be involved in his own nasty accident and I want the ambulance that is sent to pick him up to take its time. I want it to take longer than half an hour; and I want Cameron to bleed to death before it reaches him. Oh dear! What have I said? Words. See you in prison, my friends...