Andy's Glasses

Chelsea football club have been banned from the football transfer market for a year. By FIFA, the world’s highest authority in the sport. For ‘impropriety’ in the contracts of 29 junior players. Which is a bit like the Pope de-frocking a cardinal for sexual offences. But this is a good thing as clubs generally ignore all rules and regulations, particularly rich clubs. Like (fucking) Chelsea. And remember, the most important rule; if its bad for Chelsea its good for the world.

And a transfer ban for any team is fairly bad, unless it was for Spurs for last year when it would have made no difference, but Chelsea are a team famous for trying to ‘buy their way out of trouble’. And they always seem to be in trouble. So they spend a lot. A helluva lot. With their manager under massive pressure due to… due to… due to the team playing shit and losing games, his position looks even more fragile. Though Chelsea are due to appeal, which historically results in the ban being delayed by 12 months. So expect big spending at the Bridge should that occur. It’ll be like doing a double shop with Ocado. But with the distinct possibility of losing Eden Hazard in the process.

But what a weekend of sport we have. Currently watching (in great discomfort) Spurs at Burnley, followed by the rugby later on this afternoon. Rampant England in Wales. And tomorrow we have the Caribaou Cup final, which I really don’t care about, but its Chelsea against Manchester City so might be at least ‘watchable’. Though the league match between Liverpool and Manchester United is a lot more tantalising a prospect.

Add in a few games of tennis in the glorious February sunshine (WTF??) and it would be the ‘perfect weekend’. Other than the game at Burnley has just finished. And that’s horrible, just horrible.

Happy (fucking) Saturday

A xxxx

The whole world is talking about jihadi brides returning. Well, my whole world is. That’s me, Mel, The Times, the News, Question Time and Lila. And on the radio too. Not radio two, but The radio, TOO. In fact on LBC. The phone-ins have been talking about pretty much nothing else since Shamima was ‘found’ by the Times journalist in the camp in Syria. And now even Corbyn’s piped up and says she must ‘come home’. But as we all know, he loves a terrorist and can never have too many around him.

Much as I’m appalled by her appalling views on various atrocities and the fact that she shows no remorse… well, a little bit after they withdrew her citizenship, so even that must be questioned, she pretty much must come back to Britain. Sajid Javid’s actions the other day can be seen by some (well, by me) as being a slightly politicised way of having a ‘Churchill moment’, of elevating himself in the public’s eyes from creepy little diversity-quota-filler to Man of Action! Like Maggie Thatcher became over the Falklands. But she was much more a man that Sajid could ever be.

The lawyers will wrangle, Shamima’s parents (or, I’m guessing by the amazingly honest, clever and superb letter they submitted yesterday; their legal team) will fight and essentially she is British and no-one else will take her. Obviously she must face the consequences of her actions, but back she’ll come. With her tail under her hijab.

A young woman on LBC, an educated ‘British Muslim’, all nice vowels and tolerance and anti-jihadi liberalism, was stating her case for Shamima’s return. And, with the presenter playing devil’s advocate and pushing a little in the interests of ‘good radio when you’ve been discussing the same thing day and night for 10 days solid’, she suddenly spurted out “WELL PEOPLE WENT TO FIGHT FOR ISRAEL IN THEIR WARS AND THEY WERE LET BACK IN!!!’

And it was the assumed equivalence that shocked me. Yup, shocked me. Along with the ease and casualness with which it was thrown out there. And the fact that this woman, seemingly so intelligent and educated, could run a parallel between people going to fight a cause that, in her eyes and many others, was unworthy or in many ways ‘wrong’, with fighting for a cause that threatens OUR very way of life. A war about the Middle East in the Middle East as opposed to a death-cult culture which is sworn to the destruction of our ways, our nation, our very existence. One is at worst ‘morally questionable’, the other a direct threat to Britain.

Worrying. Very worrying

Happy Friday

A xxxx

They’re back. Liladays. They went away due to staff issues, but they’re now resolved so we’re back on track. And the ‘full thing’. Wednesday night sleepover running seamlessly into Liladay. Brilliant. Though ‘sleepover’ implies, errrr, ‘sleeping’ and I don’t wish to convey the image of… of… of sleep. Sleepover is what it should be. Lila has different definitions. Because in the ‘old days’ (she’s now 22 months old) Lila went to sleep at 7 and woke up at 6 and that was it. The dream. Which turned into a nightmare a few months ago and we don’t know why. But now she’s up once, twice, thrice, in the night and then, best of all, official ‘morning’ starts, well today, at 5.15. Last week was a bit earlier. So today counts as a ‘lay in’. Though doesn’t feel like it. Unsurprisingly.

And I try to explain to her. About diurnal rhythms and sleep cycles and quote to her from studies of sleep depravation in Abu Graib and Guantanamo Bay. I draw her graphs, bar charts, sine curves. Then she draws them. In fact that’s pretty much all she draws; graphs without any coordinates. In pink and blue AND purple. Bit of green. All over the newspaper, the walls…

But the fact of the matter is that she is so unrelentingly adorable at any time other than 1, 3, 5 in the morning, that once you see that smiling little face, its over. Ya had me at ‘smile’. The rest I’ll get over. In the fullness of time. Then she gets ‘busy’. And it doesn’t stop. Ever.

I think she woke up this morning because she was concerned about the new group of resignees in Westminster. The 3 Tory MPs who have abandoned the seemingly sinking ship (rhymes with ‘stinking shit’) of the government benches to sit as newdependents with Chukka and Lucinda et al. With no party, no backers (that we know of) and no hope of any immediate influence in the world. But they’re basically The Remain Party. That’s their collective common ground, if not their stated reason for desertion. And ya know what; its about time we had one of those. Because arguing Brexit all of every day for almost 2 years has gotten us precisely nowhere. So we might as well stay. (Run and hide immediately. London’s safe).

Happy exhausting Thursday

A xxxx

The new in-party of ex-Labour disgruntees has now grown to a massive 8 people. Yet if they get 4 more they’ll have the same number of MPs as the Liberal Democrat’s. Which is interesting but irrelevant in a way that the Lib Dem’s themselves are somewhat irrelevant. I’m just happy that Labour is in difficulty and hoping that it is catastrophic in nature. And just to illustrate a wonderful point, yesterday Labour MP Ruth George posted on social media that the new Independent Group (as they’re called) is probably being funded by Israel. She later withdrew and apologised, but, I mean, I mean, I mean… FUCK ME!!! Will they never learn? Jewish conspiracies in response to accusations of inventing Jewish conspiracies? Sensitive.

Because its not all about anti-semitism. On the news every night there are stories from Venezuela about the horrendous economic conditions which have lead to starvation. Children are dying from malnutrition in the country with the world’s largest oil reserves. There are only 2 people, possibly in the entire world, who don’t believe that this is true. That it is in fact some ‘conspiracy by the West’ to taint Nicolas Maduro. One is Maduro himself, who maintains that all is fine. And the other is Jeremy Corbyn, who refuses to admit that a nation following the socialist paradigm could fail so tragically. Even though, historically, every single one has.

Corbyn would have not just let Shamima Begum back into the country but invited her to tea and probably made her a Dame. He loves a terrorist, which is as odd as it is true. He loved the IRA until they sadly(???) disbanded, then moved on to more hate-preachy type Islamic fundamentalists and other murdering rabble.

But Sajid Javid, the Home Secretary decided not to. Let her in, that is. In fact he stripped Shamima of her British citizenship. Which is a bit radical, and awfully fast, but he will have the nation’s support. Whether he has the support of the legal appeals people is yet to be seen. The criteria for taking such an action are simple. If you represent a danger to Britain, you can’t come back. And even those fairly sympathetic to Shamima originally (everyone’s sympathetic to her poor, unfortunate kids, everyone; you’re nothing special) then listened to her views on the Manchester bombing. Which were basically ‘well they’re bombing us over here (in Syria) too; other side of the coin, shit happens’. She has no remorse, she has no sympathy or compassion for the parents of the children murdered in that IS inspired massacre, and now she’s banned. But only if they can get her Bangladesh citizenship, to which she’s entitled. Cos you can’t leave people ‘stateless’. Even really horrible people.

Happy Wednesday

A xxxx

So 7 MPs resign from the Labour Party yesterday and more are expected soon. As well as many disgruntled Tories too, they fear/reckon/dread (depending on your standing on the political spectrum. If you’re a ‘Green’ then just say ‘ohmmmmm’ and hug a tree).

The only resignation that didn’t come yesterday was that of Maurizio Sarri. There again, why would he resign. If he gets sacked he gets the balance of his contract with Chelsea, doubtless 10 to 15 million quid. Like every other Chelsea manager whose been sacked, virtually one a year for the last decade. So don’t expect his resignation any time soon.

And what has gone wrong at Stamford Bridge? We already know what’s wrong at Westminster, which is pretty much everything, from Corbyn to Brexit to… errr… Corbyn. But Chelsea have an amazing squad of players. They ‘know how to win’ things, they have that mentality and yet…

History repeats. There’s something, which must be there in the players, in the dressing room, which has the power to destabilise the team. And when managers fall foul for whatever reason, the team just stops playing for them. It happened with Morinho, it happened with Conte and now its happening with Sarri.

Personally, without getting too surreal or Stephen King about this, I reckon that there is an underlying evil that pervades the entire Chelsea ‘thing’. Like it was built on an ancient burial ground and the spirits are restless, and during home matches they leave their old graves and inhabit the bodies of the fans and players. Bit like Pirates of the Caribbean on the ghost ship. But that’s just my hypothesis.

Last night I watched as a really lacklustre Chelsea were horrendously outplayed by Manchester United. Not by matching the Blues attacking but by controlling the game totally from the back and then exploiting weaknesses in Chelsea’s midfield. And Ole Gunnar Solskjaer is a wily dude and knew precisely where to exploit.

Because Sarri took the world’s best holding player, the best disrupter of attacks in the world, N’golo Kante, and put him as a winger. Where he is ok. But Chelsea have a wealth of talent in that position. So the holding role goes to Jorginho. Who is simply not up to the job. And obviously, for some reason, the players have the hump with their manager and the team are underperforming massively. Which is pretty good news for most of us, not quite so good for Chelsea.

Resignations to follow.

Happy Tuesday

A xxxx

Its happened. What, for all other people is ‘hot news!!’ about a splinter group of MPs leaving the Labour party today, but as I predicted and anticipated this yesterday, for you, this is old news. I am Nostradamus! Why have they left? I think one sub-headline on the BBC’s newspage sums it up beautifully, reading: “A guide to Labour antisemitism claims”. Its such a vast topic that it needs a user-friendly ‘guide’ to plot you through it. But good luck to Chukka and Luciana et al who are presently just gonna sit there as ‘independents’ but inevitably, in time, either Corbyn will be assassinated by me or they’ll form a new party. John McDonnell, the Scumbag-in-Chief’s chief Scumbag, said that they shouldn’t have left. That they’d be better off ‘fighting their corner’. Like Luciana Berger hasn’t been doing just that for 2 years producing no change other than the increase in the levels of personal abuse she suffers. McDonnell continued: ‘Labour is a family’. Right. A totally dysfunctional family of abusers, wife-beaters and morons headed by a unilateral totalitarian dictator in a fucking beret. Someone should call social services. A mere 7 have run so far, but I fear (read: ‘Hope’) that more will follow.

Meanwhile Shamima Begum wants people to show her some sympathy, some compassion, and let her come home. She was ‘just a housewife in Syria’. Well, she should have gone to Bradford instead, then she could come home any time she wanted. Her new baby was born yesterday, so mazzletov to her and the family. Though its not about whether she’s in Syria or Turkey or Bradford or Ruislip. Its about why she went. And that was to become the Jihadi bride that she wished for. And in doing so she bought into the whole IS shtick. And I’m sure she showed ‘compassion and sympathy’ as her husband and his mates and her whole new ‘family’ (not the Labour ‘family’, a different one bent on a different kind of destruction) beheaded and raped and killed and tortured their way across the Levant.

And its not just the arguments about the morality and desirability of ‘welcoming’ home someone with a poisoned mind, its a logistical nightmare too. Britain has no diplomatic ties to Syria. Has no forces there, no consular staff, no-one. So before we decide what to do with her, she has to make her way to Turkey. Back the way she came just 4 years ago. I would say ‘wiser’ but somehow I doubt it.

Happy Monday

A xxxx

I love movies. I love all types of movies. Action thrillers, action thrillers and also action thrillers. Ok, that’s a joke. I’m not even keen on action killers and wouldn’t see a ‘Bond’ if ya paid me in gold-plated Aston Martins. But I will see a thriller and I’ll see art house and I’ll see absolutely anything by the Coen Brothers and wouldn’t miss any new Woody Allen, even though he’s now Hollywood’s most celebratedly perverse and sick hate-figure of a Hollywood abusive Jew, after Harvey Weinstein. Sometimes art must transcend life. I suppose I really like ‘Indy’ films because they’re always a bit ‘different’ from the mainstream. But then the Indys get bought by the mainstream studios to increase their offerings beyond mere blockbusters and thus really should rename them Ds. Because no longer independent they must ergo be Dependant.

But its Oscar time. When all the good movies come out. They save them. For the ‘recency effect’. The last great film you saw was the best film you saw. Unless its shit.

So we went to see ‘If Beale Street could talk’ last night. Which was a million miles from ‘shit’. It’s a powerful film. It’s a sad film. It’s a charming film. It’s a tragic film. And most of all it is an exceptionally beautiful film. But a film so self-consciously aware of its own beauty that its also something a very slow film. And I don’t know how they do that when the plot seems to move much more quickly than the action. Yet every shot is considered, contemplated, cogitated upon, mulled over and presented in the most wonderfully beautiful manner. The acting is fantastic and strong. The characters believable and, yes, beautiful. So for 2 hours you wallow in this astounding beauty whilst feeling the pain of the plight it represents. Because this is not a happy film. You want it to be as happy as it is beautiful but that is probably the whole point. Beauty is skin deep and in this case that skin in black, in Harlem, in nineteen sixty-something. And the poignancy of the tale is in stark contrast to the amazing cinematography.

Thus it becomes a very ‘interesting’ film. Slow but never boring, spectacular to watch but rather sad and tragic. And, obviously, the tale of institutional racism. Back then. Which is rather like it is ‘back now’ but without so much shooting.

Happy Sunday

A xxxx

Half the priests in the Vatican are gay. Big fucking surprise there. In the new ‘revelations’ from a book about the homosexual life within the most outwardly homophobic ‘state’ in the world. Other than maybe Saudi, Iran, Qatar. The other 50% of the Vaticanees fondle little girls. Ok, maybe I made that up, maybe I didn’t.

But in the book’s exposee of Catholic Central was one detail that is purely exquisite. That there is a group of prelates who regularly go to a particularly down-market section of Rome to find rent boys. And they refuse to wear condoms. I presume this is on ‘religious grounds’, certainly not for health reasons, and that is just so beautifully, superbly, sordidly, outrageously hypocritical and wonderfully ridiculous that it should be enshrined as the number 1 sin in the ‘problems with the Catholic Church’ list. Currently 4 volumes. It’s like a rabbi asking for no butter on his bacon sandwich because its not kosher to mix ‘milk’ with ‘meat’.

And now we’re just 40-odd days away from Brexit and… and… and what? Not much happening on that front. Never mind, loads of time. But more exciting is the prospect of a ‘breakaway group’ of Labourites. Those few moderates who haven’t been deselected or forced by Corbyn and/or Momentum to swear blind allegiance to their leader in the face of any normal form of democratic process, have finally got pissed off. With his horrendous disinterest over Europe and his quite ridiculous failures about sorting out the anti-semitism problems rife among his supporters.

This will be a good thing. Because a few ‘moderates’ (ie right of Marx, left of Blair) will leave the Labour whip and… who knows? Presumably form a new party. New NEW Labour. The Almost Labour Party. The Anti-Corbyn Party. And even if its only 4 or 5 that’s fine. Because more will follow as they realise that their current leader is a toxic and dangerous person. And it will give the rest of the ‘normal’ party a nice, easy escape route back to the sanity of a more centrist political agenda.

Trump’s no centrist. He’s building a wall. And so disgusted is he with the ‘illegal immigrants’ and the ‘drug gangs’ (like there’s no white, Anglo Americans involved in the drug trade) and the whole Mexico thing that he’s going to declare the building of the wall a ‘National Emergency’ so he can fund it without going to Congress. But Congress will fight him in court to prevent it. He’s worried that the lack of wall is preventing ‘America becoming Great again’. Because once Jose has picked a basket of oranges for 10 bucks an hour, the entire fabric of American society is threatened.

Oh well, happy Saturday

A xxxx

Shamima Begum wants to come ‘home’. To Britain. Where she was born. Where she was raised. Where she lived until she was 15. At which point, along with 2 mates, she took the very long and winding road to Syria, via Turkey, to join ISIS. And although as we all know, a 15 year old girl is nothing to be toyed with, they have opinions, normally very strong ones, they have ideas and they are fiercely independent, legally, at 15, they are ‘minors’ and therefore their actions are not considered their own. Thus Shamima, and her mates, were ‘groomed’, which doubtless they were. By evil men and women of ISIS ideology intent on building up the number of foot soldiers for their cause. Or, where women are concerned, its more ‘bed soldiers’. Painting some kind of glamorous and exciting lifestyle all ‘for the cause’.

Shamima went, she was married a couple weeks later, still 15 years old (ISIS make their own rules, in case you missed that) and has had 3 children with a 4th on the way, in 4 years, though sadly 2 died. And because of that, she’s worried about the new one. And therefore wants him to be born back ‘home’ in the Britain she left for better things. Or worse things. Certainly more ‘beheady’ type things, which apparently didn’t faze her at all. Does she have remorse? Regrets?? No, she regrets rien. As the song almost goes. But health care is better in Bethnal Green than on a sand dune on the Syria/Iraq war-torn border so this is where she wants to be.

And that’s a big problem. Because instinctively: WE DON’T FUCKING WANT HER! Because she’s dangerous, she’s been ‘poisoned’, she’s been ‘brainwashed’ and she’s spent 4 years in the midst of horrendous violence which she has normalised. Her babies were raised as jihadis-from-birth, so God help them. And remember, ISIS did not exist in the isolation of the Levant. Its ‘messages of love’ spread to Manchester and Nice and London Bridge and Westminster Bridge and Belgium and all over the Western world. So when Shamima joined ISIS, or married ISIS, or even just shagged ISIS, she became part of something sworn to the destruction of the homeland and value system to which she now wants to come running in order to protect her children.

Being a hypocrite is not a crime. Unfortunately. Being a British citizen means we almost have to let her back. And its not her children’s fault. None of it. Can you ‘de-radicalise’? I’m not sure. The ‘de-briefing’ will be useful in the ongoing battle against terrorism, but if she ends up in prison she could do way more harm than good.

Its a tricky one.

Happy Friday

A xxxx

Its a truly beautiful morning here in London town. Springlike. Sunny. Mild. Gorgeous. The flowers are getting ready to bloom, the birds are singing their songs and Spurs beat Dortmund in the Champions League last night. How could any day get better than that? Lila turning up at half seven was a massive bonus, day-wise. Oh, its Valentine’s Day too, but quite frankly I’m over that. Not that I’m not a ‘romantic’. I was even a ‘new romantic’ at one point. With an eye patch, pirate’s jacket and Flock’a’Seagulls BIG hair. Otherwise known as a ‘total tosser’. Now I’m definitely an old romantic. But I can’t see how celebrating a massacre is romantic. And more importantly, I need no-one to tell me when to show love or affection. Have you ever met me? I’m just gushing with it. I don’t reserve it for some arbitrary date set by the card manufacturers and rose importers intent on liberating as much cash as they can from my pockets.

So let’s talk love. In particular, our love for Tottenham Hotspur, the greatest football team in the world. And the ‘ONLY PLACE TO SEE CHAMPIONS LEAGUE FOOTBALL IN LONDON THIS YEAR’.

Dortmund were strong favourites to beat Spurs. I don’t know why. In Europe Spurs seem to have ‘underdog’ tattooed on their collective chests. But looking at the details, the numbers, the statistics, perhaps the bookies were right to favour the Germans. Who are at the very top of the Bundesliga, right where Bayern Munich usually sit, but not at the moment. And Dortmund do produce and acquire a wealth of prodigious talent. Both in players and in managers. Like Jurgen Klopp. Can’t get more brilliant, nor more German, than him. And then there’s the state of the Spurs squad. Missing were our talismanic striker, the Lord Harry Kane, and his main dude, Sir Dele Alli. So ‘what chance did we stand???’ Ok we can see off Newcastle and Leicester and Bournemouth but even then with a struggle.

On the other side of the statistical, pre-match analysis is Son Heung-Min. He has scored more goals against Dortmund than against any other club he’s ever played.

Then throw in the wild card that is Juan Foyth, our young defender with a massive liability potential, stick Jan Vertongen, the best centre back in the world (other than our other one) out of position at left back and it would appear to be a recipe for disaster.

And yet we won. Not just won, but won 3-0. The ‘3’ is positively massive in a two leg match, but the ‘0’ is way bigger. No away goal. Double 0 and you still have 0. Sonny scored, inevitably, Vertongen was man of the match and all their wonderkinds went crying back to Germany, wishing they could play for a proper team like Spurs.

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY. So you get a break from football. Well, from proper football.

A xxxx