(no subject)

Police say they think the firebombing down the road was racially motivated. This was the third firebomb attack on an Asian grocer's in as many weeks, although the first to be fatal. I would have expected them maybe to say something after the first two, but, as with stalking and domestics, it usually takes a death before they really take something seriously.

If I were more in the mood to appreciate it, I would enjoy pointing out that the e-fit they've released of the suspect:



although it might turn out to resemble him exactly, looks for the moment like a feverishly racist caricature. This is all the more unfortunate because, as the attack happened over the road from the police station, the e-fit relies mainly on witness statements given by police officers.

(no subject)

Saturday night, strictlytrue, nudejournal, burlapfuton and I are waiting for a bus outside the KFC in Brixton. A toothless, barely coherent old rasta tramp joins us and starts being “hilarious”. “Shall I kill him?” he asks, putting his arm around nudejournal's shoulder. "Shall I kill him or kiss him? Heh heh heh,” he says, seeing our expressions, “I'm just kidding. I'm not going to kill anyone.” He's so out of his mind, he can barely remember even the basic rasta shtick. “I think we ought... we ought to... ahm... [inspiration strikes] LOVE... human beings.”

He eventually gets around to business. “How about a small contribution? A penny each.” I give him a quid. He insists on bumping fists with me, and then before I know it he gives me a cheery, stubbly kiss on the cheek. (I wouldn't mind quite so much but it's not the first time I've been ambushed with a kiss off a tramp. Buchanan Street bus station in Glasgow at Hogmanay; the bugger wasn't even asking for money, just happy to be celebrating the time of year. Some people have the kind of face that the opposite sex finds attractive, some the kind that mysteriously invites ageing strangers to tell them all about their offspring's most intimate operations. None of that shit for me; no, my speciality is apparently being a tramp magnet.)

But the highlight of this brief encounter (depending on how excited you got about the stubbly kiss) was when he thought for a minute and then solemnly announced: “You should all vote... Liberal Democrat.” I asked him to repeat it, as I presumed I'd misheard. There was no doubt, though. “Liberal Democrat,” he said earnestly. “You should all vote LibDem.” I suppose what with the local elections coming up they're taking on all the staff they can get.

"For 10 points, 'No' means... what? Anyone?"

The “upskirts” guy, contrary to the initial BBC report, which had the trial judge ordering the jury to return a “not guilty” verdict—though that paragraph was later hurriedly replaced with the words “The trial continues”—has been sent down for 3 years 9 months: 2 years for downloading child pornography, 3 years concurrent for possessing and downloading child pornography (no, I don't quite understand that either), and just 9 months for taking his own “upskirt” shots of young girls on trains and in Chichester supermarkets.

Clearly what he needed in his life was a hard-hitting Home Office campaign to explain where he'd been going wrong. Something like this, for example:



Do you see what they've done? “Enter!” Cheeky as well as hard-hitting, and they've managed to get a woman's belly and pants on the poster, eh lads! No-one's intelligence is insulted, it's all handled deftly and with good taste, no rape victims could possibly take exception to it, and the essential problematic myth that drunk woman = slapper = consent is confronted head-on and dispelled once and for all. Good work all round.

However, that ad is a work of agitprop genius next to its companion:



Far from challenging any troubling conventional perceptions, this poster's main message, as my esteemed colleague has remarked in astonishment, appears to be that “the bitch might report you”. £500k well spent, there.