In all the rows over the government's latest wheeze to cut down on illegal immigrant workers, two pretty obvious objections do not seem to have been raised.
The “Go home or face arrest” poster campaign is such a brilliant idea, you have to wonder which super-brain adviser thought it up. Problem: there are too many immigrants entering the country and working illegally. Many of them cannot even speak English, we are told. Like, we are so great at speaking foreign languages wherever we decide to plonk of xxxl arses.
Anyway, this is what our marvellous government, led by the splendid estate agent-in-chief David Cameron thinks is the "big problem" facing our "big society". Solution: Stick an enormous poster on the sites of mobile hoarding vans and drive them around areas where it is assumed most of these illegals carry out their nefarious business. Such as Brent.
Make sure the poster is as nasty and threatening as possible: "106 arrests last week in your area".
Above, make sure it is in language that your target audience understands. That's, er, English?
The campaign has been rubbished by almost all, including the party it was clearly meant to undermine, UKIP. It's crass, offensive, stupid, everyone (well, almost everyone) agrees on that. Except the Governement, which seems to believe the £10,000 pilot was a success and is now talking of extending it around the country.
Amazing that Boris should support putting these large, polluting vehicles on the already over-crowded roads of north west London. They pollute not just with their exhaust gas but also with their hideous message - and with the sheer ugliness of the huge poster design and the ludicrous vehicle that is displaying it.
It's like they are asking for new riots. I would be sorely tempted to throw something at one of these vans if it came down my street. I hope they pay their drivers very well.
Footnote: eventually even the government realised this jolly little brainwave wasn't really helping anyone, and the minster responsible - Home Sec Theresa May - scrapped plans for a national "roll-out".
Read more here.
Spinning happily at thirty-three-and-a-third revolutions per minute, not wanting to stop
Showing posts with label immigration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label immigration. Show all posts
Monday, 5 August 2013
Monday, 3 September 2012
September song
The new school term begins here.
Oh, September!
And the depths of idiocy to which Cameron's goons will descend becomes all the more dimly apparent.
Turn out to be even deeper than that trough in the Pacific.
Goon no 1, our minister for immigration, is that Damian I see? Mr Green, you have just shattered the hopes of 2,000 odd students, you twit, you twerp! You have shat from on high on the hopes of many, including those at London Met who have spent the last three years trying to rebuild a seriously damaged reputation, and they were more than succeeding.
Worse, you've also damaged the chances of this country's higher education system attracting large numbers of fat-fee-paying boys and girls from south east Asia, Russia, Brazil, India, Africa etc!
Silly Mr Green, but you are only bowing to the inevitable diktat of this curiously awful government, apparently so modern and liberal and smart and clever, yet actually just another quickly-stamped pvc mask crudely fitted over the face of good (that is, bad) old fashioned English class-and-race-based bigotry.
M Green has found another easy way of reducing the net immigration statistic.
As someone far cleverer than me said recently, for pity's sake, stop! We need these people. We should rejoice in the knowledge (oh, so heavily rammed home in all those rather sickening Olympic things about London being a world city etc etc, yeuch) they want to come here. In 20 or 25 years we will be begging them to come and live in our shabby, cold, poor, shitty little country!
Oh London? a world city? The world certainly likes to come here, then it gets ripped off by dubious cockerneys in their tour buses and their duckws and their taxis, by their filthy hot-dog stands and their shittly railways and undergrounds and all those ghastly restaurants in the so-called West end (Angus steakhouse still serving up charred gristle and chips in 2012, 40 years on? What?)
Oh, September!
And the depths of idiocy to which Cameron's goons will descend becomes all the more dimly apparent.
Turn out to be even deeper than that trough in the Pacific.
Goon no 1, our minister for immigration, is that Damian I see? Mr Green, you have just shattered the hopes of 2,000 odd students, you twit, you twerp! You have shat from on high on the hopes of many, including those at London Met who have spent the last three years trying to rebuild a seriously damaged reputation, and they were more than succeeding.
Worse, you've also damaged the chances of this country's higher education system attracting large numbers of fat-fee-paying boys and girls from south east Asia, Russia, Brazil, India, Africa etc!
Silly Mr Green, but you are only bowing to the inevitable diktat of this curiously awful government, apparently so modern and liberal and smart and clever, yet actually just another quickly-stamped pvc mask crudely fitted over the face of good (that is, bad) old fashioned English class-and-race-based bigotry.
M Green has found another easy way of reducing the net immigration statistic.
As someone far cleverer than me said recently, for pity's sake, stop! We need these people. We should rejoice in the knowledge (oh, so heavily rammed home in all those rather sickening Olympic things about London being a world city etc etc, yeuch) they want to come here. In 20 or 25 years we will be begging them to come and live in our shabby, cold, poor, shitty little country!
Oh London? a world city? The world certainly likes to come here, then it gets ripped off by dubious cockerneys in their tour buses and their duckws and their taxis, by their filthy hot-dog stands and their shittly railways and undergrounds and all those ghastly restaurants in the so-called West end (Angus steakhouse still serving up charred gristle and chips in 2012, 40 years on? What?)
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