Anti-jackboots at the ready?

The BNP list recently published is quite interesting reading - the more interesting reading is the reaction to it in the media and around the Internet. One guy's blog entry and subsequent comments stated quite clearly that "there are more [BNP Members] in Leeds than any other city by far. Having lived in that area for 13-14 years, it’s sad to say they’re rife." Just goes to show how a personal prejudice can skew your perception.

There are actually 267 members in the 'LS' postcode area. Unfortunately for our 'learned' friend above there are 423 in the Birmingham area, which even taking into account the larger population of Birmingham is a larger number - and that's just major cities. There are 259 in the Blackburn postal district, which has less than a fifth of the population of Leeds.

Dull stats aside something tells me that 'Mosher' was unfortunate enough to live next door to a Nazi when he was in Leeds - hence his poor opinion of the place. I've been around the City all my life and outside London and Bradford its one of the most ethnically diverse and tolerant cities I've seen. The fact its the capital of Yorkshire - the best county in the whole universe by far - is probably the reason I'm jumping to defend it though - you see how opinion can skew the truth...?

One of the most frustrating things when reading down the list of members is almost that I don't recognise ANY names on there. Part of every reasonably open-minded person I think is keen to make some sort of stand against this kind of thing. I'm not saying that if my neighbor was on the list I'd be knocking their door down for a war of words - more likely I'd rant away at the girlfriend in a loud voice hoping that they'd hear me through the wall and then avoid them for the next week for fear of reprisals.

That's the way of many people today (me included) - they talk a good fight, generally in their own head, and get themselves all riled up with the injustice of it all; then inevitably the next topic comes along and the whole cycle starts again. Perhaps there are so many good fights to fight that we end up fighting none.

My sister is a good example of those who don't just 'grin and bear it'. I remember her getting into an actual fist-fight on new year's eve after talking to a guy dressed as a Nazi who then proceeded to tell her he actually WAS a Nazi and proud of it. She ended up getting a walking-stick in the face for her trouble, and I remember falling out with her in the kebab shop later as she relayed the story because I told her she was wasting her time trying to change his mind, despite the fact she had actually come away with a trophy - the offending stick.

Looking back I kind of wish I'd have been there as it happened - maybe seeing a bigoted racist skinhead trying to attack her might have spurred me into action and I would have an 'I stood up for my beliefs' story to tell. Unfortunately I'm reduced to writing on a blog no-one will ever read.

Ah well. Viva la revolution and all that...

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Awww look at the doggy...

I suppose the best way to start a blog is to tell you what I spend most of my time doing. Wagstaff (or Sir Wag of Staff, or Wags, or Waggles, or Waggy, or WigsWags, or ...) is our dog. No for those of you thinking it I don't spend my time 'doing' him, I spend most of my time 'doing' the job of dog owner.

This is him when he was a cute little puppy with big sad eyes. I could hold him in one hand. Yes he used to crap all over the house, but he was new then and him being our first dog we didn't mind, and to be fair he picked up the whole house training thing pretty damn quick really...


...Unfortunately he now weighs 4 stone, is still growing, and as Glen Lampshade might say he's not so much a dog as a lycanthrope. He jumps all over you when all you want to do is watch the TV in peace (in my case, he usually lands in the places where no man wants a 4 stone dog to land). He bites your hands constantly no matter how many times you beat the living crap out of him for doing it (that bit was a joke - thinking it doesn't count as animal abuse right??). His latest trick is to come up to us on the sofa all cute like wagging his tail, then like an SAS strike the TV remote's out of your hands and hes scrabbling on the laminate floor like roadrunner trying to get traction to scarper under the dining table with it.

Taking him to the park gets us out of the house, which is nice, until of course he sees other dogs when in his excitement he will either run round and round and round and round in circles pretty much forever or will lie on his back next to the other dog's owner and piss into the air because he's lost all control.

When he's not biting hands, mounting his cuddly toys (usually against us), running round like an eedjit or pissing all over strangers, he's asleep. His usual weekend routine is to wake up some ridiculous hour and wake us up by trying to eat our ears. He'll then moan and whine to go downstairs where he'll have what the girlfriend describes as a 'funny 5 minutes' (i.e. he runs around like an eedjit) which lasts just long enough for us to be wide awake. He'll then go back to sleep for another 4 hours while we watch teleshopping on the TV because most of the channels we watch DON'T START FOR ANOTHER 2 HOURS and all the shops are shut for another 4!

I really like my sleep. Why can't you just let me sleep...?

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