Friday, February 28, 2014

Propaganda and revolution

A Chinese general this week stated that the deadly smog enveloping Northern China was a great defense against US missiles, today there were reports that China was going to build the biggest smog tunnel in the world to work out how to deal with the smog, both of these stories are classic examples of the state using the media to take people's mind off the actual problem, sadly the Hong Kong media are now also stupid enough to swallow it.
The same is true for the rising Nationalism in China fuelled by the media regarding a few tiny islands and events that happened 60 years ago, heinous events, but the rest of the world also suffered many heinous acts too, but we moved on, we had to.
Yet China in 2014 is still obsessed. This is the state media whipping up sentiment to detract from the real tangible problems faced by the majority of the population; poverty, inflation, corruption, human rights, freedom of speech and democracy!

This of course has also caused almost laughably the Chinese to discriminate against each other, as in the protests here in Hong Kong against Mainland tourists and the 'locust' label! Sow the seed of superiority and pay the consequences, ask the Germans and Japanese!

In the west, we look on, and tut tut. We stand on our pedestal and give our opinions and tell them they must be like us. That's bullshit!
Our system is also broken. A man starved to death in England this week. He was starved by the indifference and apathy of his nation.
The media has been instrumental there too, in making people believe their poverty comes from the foreigners in their midst, or the weakest amongst them. This policy has been hugely successful and has resulted in a constant barrage of racist headlines and a stream of stories of those stealing from the state, the reality of course being that the foreigners add to the wealth of the nation and those stealing from the state equate to the tax avoided by a major company in a single day!
 And herein lies the truth, the banks alone are the reason for the misery and the recession, the cost of bailing them out will be felt for decades, they are not sorry, they see no reason to be, they don't care. They continue to get richer and they continue to be protected. The same applies to every major corporation albeit to differing degrees.

Government exists to make the rich richer, the poor poorer and the corruption in our society is at the top, a perfect system where the majority cannot see the rot above them.
There is no difference between China and the West, and sadly both seem destined to continue on their path as, as people we seem to have forgotten how to revolt,  how to begin a revolution, as that is what is  needed. We knew how to do it 300 years ago, 70 years ago, but now what chance of a 
REVOLUTION?

Shame shame shame


Remember this next time you say cut benefits or vote conservative. This kid was someone's son, he starved to death because his benefits were cut! This is the tip of the iceberg, the UK has gone back to Victorian times! What was the class struggle over the last 300  years for? Was it for the half a billion pound bonus set aside for RBS bankers, was it for the tax cuts given to the richest?
You can continue to blame the immigrants who put more into the economy than they take out or the benefit cheats who make up 0.01% of the welfare bill or you can open your fucking eyes and see what is really happening as the corporations dodge tax, the richest are given money, housing benefit is given to the royal landowners. I gave up years ago, because I see only greed and stupidity, and moved out, but this makes me ashamed of my country!

http://www.oxfordmail.co.uk/news/11043378.Man_starved_after_benefits_were_cut/

Thursday, February 27, 2014

The Butterfly

“Just living is not enough," said the butterfly, "one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower.”

― Hans Christian Andersen, 

The Butterfly

by

Hans Christian Andersen

(1861)

HERE was once a butterfly who wished for a bride, and, as may be supposed, he wanted to choose a very pretty one from among the flowers.
He glanced, with a very critical eye, at all the flower-beds, and found that the flowers were seated quietly and demurely on their stalks, just as maidens should sit before they are engaged; but there was a great number of them, and it appeared as if his search would become very wearisome. The butterfly did not like to take too much trouble, so he flew off on a visit to the daisies. The French call this flower “Marguerite,” and they say that the little daisy can prophesy. Lovers pluck off the leaves, and as they pluck each leaf, they ask a question about their lovers; thus: “Does he or she love me?—Ardently? Distractedly? Very much? A little? Not at all?” and so on. Every one speaks these words in his own language. The butterfly came also to Marguerite to inquire, but he did not pluck off her leaves; he pressed a kiss on each of them, for he thought there was always more to be done by kindness.“Darling Marguerite daisy,” he said to her, “you are the wisest woman of all the flowers. Pray tell me which of the flowers I shall choose for my wife. Which will be my bride? When I know, I will fly directly to her, and propose.”But Marguerite did not answer him; she was offended that he should call her a woman when she was only a girl; and there is a great difference. He asked her a second time, and then a third; but she remained dumb, and answered not a word. Then he would wait no longer, but flew away, to commence his wooing at once. It was in the early spring, when the crocus and the snowdrop were in full bloom.“They are very pretty,” thought the butterfly; “charming little lasses; but they are rather formal.”Then, as the young lads often do, he looked out for the elder girls. He next flew to the anemones; these were rather sour to his taste. The violet, a little too sentimental. The lime-blossoms, too small, and besides, there was such a large family of them. The apple-blossoms, though they looked like roses, bloomed to-day, but might fall off to-morrow, with the first wind that blew; and he thought that a marriage with one of them might last too short a time. The pea-blossom pleased him most of all; she was white and red, graceful and slender, and belonged to those domestic maidens who have a pretty appearance, and can yet be useful in the kitchen. He was just about to make her an offer, when, close by the maiden, he saw a pod, with a withered flower hanging at the end.“Who is that?” he asked.“That is my sister,” replied the pea-blossom.“Oh, indeed; and you will be like her some day,” said he; and he flew away directly, for he felt quite shocked.A honeysuckle hung forth from the hedge, in full bloom; but there were so many girls like her, with long faces and sallow complexions. No; he did not like her. But which one did he like?Spring went by, and summer drew towards its close; autumn came; but he had not decided. The flowers now appeared in their most gorgeous robes, but all in vain; they had not the fresh, fragrant air of youth. For the heart asks for fragrance, even when it is no longer young; and there is very little of that to be found in the dahlias or the dry chrysanthemums; therefore the butterfly turned to the mint on the ground. You know, this plant has no blossom; but it is sweetness all over,—full of fragrance from head to foot, with the scent of a flower in every leaf.“I will take her,” said the butterfly; and he made her an offer. But the mint stood silent and stiff, as she listened to him. At last she said,—“Friendship, if you please; nothing more. I am old, and you are old, but we may live for each other just the same; as to marrying—no; don’t let us appear ridiculous at our age.”And so it happened that the butterfly got no wife at all. He had been too long choosing, which is always a bad plan. And the butterfly became what is called an old bachelor.It was late in the autumn, with rainy and cloudy weather. The cold wind blew over the bowed backs of the willows, so that they creaked again. It was not the weather for flying about in summer clothes; but fortunately the butterfly was not out in it. He had got a shelter by chance. It was in a room heated by a stove, and as warm as summer. He could exist here, he said, well enough.“But it is not enough merely to exist,” said he, “I need freedom, sunshine, and a little flower for a companion.”Then he flew against the window-pane, and was seen and admired by those in the room, who caught him, and stuck him on a pin, in a box of curiosities. They could not do more for him.“Now I am perched on a stalk, like the flowers,” said the butterfly. “It is not very pleasant, certainly; I should imagine it is something like being married; for here I am stuck fast.” And with this thought he consoled himself a little.“That seems very poor consolation,” said one of the plants in the room, that grew in a pot.“Ah,” thought the butterfly, “one can’t very well trust these plants in pots; they have too much to do with mankind"