More on the riots in England

Right, I’ve had time to sort out my thoughts into something remotely coherent. And these are my thoughts…

I’ve been following this trouble ever since it started, gradually getting angrier and angrier. I’ve been listening to half-wit politicians and social workers rabbiting on about why youths are doing what they’re doing. The apologists for those scumbags drivel on about deprivation and alienation of Britain’s youth. That is complete claptrap.

If you take a look inside the homes of these “deprived and alienated” youths you’ll find the latest widescreen plasma TVs, computers with broadband, PS3 and Xbox consoles, not to mention the latest fashions and mobile phones, Blackberries, yet! And they say they’re POOR?!?

You scumbags who are so “disadvantaged and alienated” have no idea what real poverty is and you have no notion of what it’s really like to be alienated. Poverty? You’ll find a wealth of that in the shanty towns of Brazil, Argentina and Mexico, and everywhere in sub-Saharan Africa. Alienation? Look at the Coptic Christians of Egypt or the Palestinians in Jerusalem. You’ve got numerous opportunities to do something about your life that don’t involve rioting and looting. Heck, you’ve even got the right to vote in the UK. Have you even the remotest idea of how many people around the world are fighting and being persecuted for that basic right?

You also complain that they’ve got no jobs. Well, how is destroying your community going to solve anything? Who’s going to invest any time or money into your area to create jobs and wealth after what you’ve done to it?

And what about the parents, or the guardians of these brats? Do they not know how to discipline their kids? Have they given up on them? Are they too caught up in their own petty problems to even care? Do they only care about EastEnders and who’s doing what to whom on Big Brother?

And the police! They’re the worst offenders! If they’d done what they were supposed to be doing on Sunday night, that is, hit the troublemakers hard and fast and crush the disturbance, there wouldn’t be anything like the chaos we’ve had since then. The disorder would have been contained to that one corner of the capital and everyone else could get on with the next day, business as usual.

As it is, almost the whole of England has been affected by the chaos in one way or another, and all because the police were bound up in bureaucratic rules and politically-correct recommendations, all of which has made them afraid of being subject to pubic enquiry. The riot police are there to stop riots, not ponce about with some limp-wristed softly-softly frippery. If I’d been in charge of that squad in Tottenham that night and saw the softly-softly tactics weren’t working, I would have ordered my men to stop faffing about, just run in and bust some skulls. Then those looters would think twice before getting up to any sort of disorder in future.

And if any weedy politician or journalist tried to take me to task for ignoring the guidelines and flouting PC convention, I’d say, “You take my place, then, and see if you’ve got the gumption to confront a rioting mob. Then we’ll see how well you get on!”

England used to be my favourite country, without exception. I saw it as a place where I could be free to be the best I could be, without any of the idiotic religious and sectarian rules, restrictions and hatred that blighted my childhood in Northern Ireland. But look at what England has become now, a nation of feral, brainless, gabbling scum on one side, and on the other a class of palsied, timid, toothless wretches. All I can say is, I’m glad I’m no longer part of it.


I’m not going to post detailed entry until all this mayhem is over. It affects me because it’s happening in the city where I was born and where I spent twenty years of my life.

I have one thing to say about it now. It’s a comment that turned up on the BBC’s live feed at 11:18am this morning.

Rob, London writes: You create a society where vastly overpaid footballers and models can flaunt their wealth and behave in any manner they see fit, and are still treated as near gods by the media. You lead our youth to expect instant fame and wealth, and instead they get unemployment, poverty, and no future. And now you act surprised when they revolt.

Spot on, Rob!

I have gone. Je suis disparu. Exivi.

I am no longer a Londoner. I have broken clean away from Walthamstow. On the morning of March 31st I threw some of my clothes and my passport and birth certificate into a duffel bag and abandoned my gaff in London E17.

I’d really been enjoying my life in England, but thing started to go sour in 2009 when my neighbour (whom I shall not name – he is no longer relevant) fell into the habit of hanging around with all the wrong people – I mean no-hopers, junkies and just the dregs of humanity. He’s a nice guy himself and doesn’t do anything stronger than cannabis. But he’s the type whom everybody takes advantage of. He gets robbed and cheated in every way. And he frequently asked me to lend him money. And he just as frequently forgot to pay it back. That’s in addition to the fact that he never paid for his share of the gas and electricity. He claimed housing benefit and still did plumbing jobs yet never paid his rent. The man was a social and financial disaster.

But when he got stuck between two rival drug gangs who demanded protection money from him, I decided to jettison nearly all my possessions and disappear from Walthamstow altogether.

Now I’m back in Ireland where I have family I love and who love me. Where my future will go from here I don’t know, but this could be the best move I ever made. My heart is in Ireland, my past is in England and that’s where I’m leaving it.

Richmond again

I’ve been riding here and there around London for the past few days, feeling the city under my feet (or under my bike wheels, even!). Today I cycled to Richmond. And I had dinner al fresco at a restaurant on the Thames. On a boat converted into a restaurant, that is. A blissful summer day! I love the summer and I love London!


The London Overground line from Dalston Junction to West Croydon is now open and I took a trip there yesterday. I remember now why I don’t like Croydon. Cars, cars, cars everywhere. And there are some pretty dreadful buildings there too. And it’s so easy to get lost. I don’t think I’ll be going back anytime soon.

All that and a Brandenburg Concerto

That’s what I heard in the church of St Martin-in-the-Fields. It was a concert given by the Feinstein Ensemble and they played two of Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos, no.4 in G and no.5 in D, the Double Violin Concerto in D minor, Handel’s Water Music Suite in G and three concertos by Vivaldi including Spring from the Four Seasons.

Going Overground

The section of the London Overground from Dalston Junction to New Cross Gate has opened. And from May 23rd there’ll be a direct line from Dalston Junction to West Croydon. In the early 90s I used to go to Croydon regularly because there was a great second-hand record shop called Beanos there, and a branch of Forbidden Planet for comics. But I stopped collecting records and comics years ago. So this new train link comes about 15 years too late for me.

London Marathon

I didn’t participate. I was only a passing spectator. Even so, I could still get the atmosphere of the event at the Victoria Embankment and at the finish line in the Mall and St James’s Park. I’ve never had the perseverance to run or walk the full 42.195km so I’ve nothing but admiration for people who do, especially those who do several marathons a year and for whom marathon running is part of their lives.