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Tuesday, 29 September 2015

blog 156. Ashcroft’s pig-tales tell us nothing new.

If you’re reading this from outside the UK and are bemused – it’s about a rich bloke using his big money to produce a book outing another rich bloke for doing something vulgar with a pig’s head because he (the first rich bloke) didn’t get what he wanted. Yes – while the world is going to hell in handcart...

To anyone with a brain cell who pays even passing attention to who holds power in this world, the gross goings-on of the grossly privileged elite have lost their shock value. They probably run at about the same level of interest as the lesser characters in soap operas.

From a drunk, bra-wearing lord (in charge of the Standards Committee!) snorting cocaine with prostitutes while slagging-off politicians to a nazi-uniform wearing prince and racist consort to MPs who think it ok to abuse the police and lie about it (you see I refrained from calling them by that 1970s Brit moniker - The pigs!) it’s like pouring a thimble of water into the ocean.

Is it even worth mentioning another arrogant privately educated PM who OK’d an illegal invasion in the Middle East and kicked off Armageddon? Alright, I won’t. Not long ago we were reading about so many MPs with their snouts in the trough that Parliament was starting to smell like a bacon factory.

Ashcroft may have hogged the limelight with his pig-headed, boar-ish revelations of porcine debauchery but in reality he’s the one whose biographical de-composition is giving off a whiff of degradation.

My opinion of Cameron and his breed certainly isn’t lowered by this bit of spite (spit – roast pig??? Ok we’ll leave that one). He falls no lower in my opinion because there is nowhere lower for him and his set to go. Whether it’s the Bullingdon club or any other exclusive group where rich boys do stupid things to be regarded as ‘in’, it all turns my stomach. These rich boys float along feeding on the fat-saturated pigswill of inherited wealth without the oxygen of merit. They stink of old money made in the slave trade and the other historical miseries of humanity.

But if there is another level of ‘low’ it has to be someone who is so desperate to get into the pig’s heart of the ultimate club - The Establishment - that they will debase themselves by trying to buy their way in with eye watering amounts of dosh.

I recall once years ago –finding a friend’s daughter taking money out of my purse. As you can imagine we were all mortified. Our upset turned to pity when – on delving deeper – it turned out that the girl, who had an obvious disability, was using money acquired in this way to pay-off school bullies and to try to buy friendship. But she was a disabled, disadvantaged, young girl. Ashcroft is an adult. He has had countless advantages in life but behaves like Dudley Dursley in Harry Potter, who ironically ends up with a pig’s tail. Having received 36 presents he’s squealing because he didn’t get 37.

Ashcroft is paying and displaying his inadequacies more clearly and embarrassingly than anyone I’ve ever observed. On the dignity-meter of life he’s ticking in the red and if he had any self respect he’d be blushing.

If he has a few quid to spare – rather than this gross vanity/malice project couldn’t he have got that woman to write about someone doing good in the world then use his publishing business and finances to promote that?

What a hideous man living a hideous life – how poor in spirit and humanity. How grasping and mean. How pitiful.

If Cameron’s pig-tale is true I’m not surprised. If it’s not true I don’t care. But – if this is how the rich and powerful spend their time and considerable resources when the world is burning, heaven help the rest of us.


The only one who emerges with quiet pignity from this latest privilege pile-up is the dead pig – real or imagined.

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