From Stiff Upper Lip to Wobbly Lower Lip in One Generation.

by Anna Raccoon

Note: I thought, in 1997, we might just about survive another Labour Government. Then the Princess of Wales died, and I realised the country had gone barking mad. Is there any way back to nicely repressed normality? I doubt it. SIG

From Stiff Upper Lip to Wobbly Lower Lip in One Generation.

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British phlegm, an objective judicial system, the state acting as dispassionate arbitrator of social problems, a dignified burial at the end of your days, your home as impregnable castle – as much as the bowler hat, the double decker bus, the distinctive taxi, and Big Ben’s authoritative tones – these were the icons of British life that gave many an ex-pat an embarrassed lump in the throat when they viewed the Pathe news in some far flung land.

As they witnessed, from the safety of the British Embassy, the hysterical keening and wailing of curiously dressed natives flailing their arms behind the coffin of a total stranger, or politely ignored local policemen pronouncing guilt and delivering retribution on the spot, or listened to the negotiations for blood money to assuage the hurt feelings of bereaved relatives for whom impartial justice was not sufficient, they were grateful that one day they would retire to the land where a funeral meant a small glass of sherry and quiet reflection, punishment was something that was visited upon you after an objective dissection of the legal facts and with the agreement of a jury of your peers, the nature of a crime was indicated by tightly drawn legal parameters, not the victim’s view of ‘what happened’ and the entire legal system was designed to keep the understandably emotional feelings of the victim from influencing the judge when deciding on the correct punishment for contravening the relevant law.

I was reflecting on how we had changed – so quickly, one generation – as I listened to the sad news of a young girl stabbed to death on a bus in Birmingham. The flowers, candles and Teddy bears were arriving at the point at which the bus had briefly halted, duly documented by Sky news. ‘It’ll be forgotten by next week’ said Mr G. ‘Not a bit of it, Sky will be back to film the thousands of strangers releasing candles in Chinese lanterns into the night sky next week’ I responded – and realised in that one sarky remark how easily I had taken for granted this ‘new’ British response to death. Only the week before I had been spluttering over a comment in a newspaper in response to a proposal to part privatise the NHS. ‘Under a part privatised system the sick and the elderly will die’ said the commentator. Oh for God’s sake, the sick and the elderly have always died, that is what sick and elderly people do, death is a natural progression from birth, by all means rail against unnecessary deaths, but that comment presupposed that magically the NHS was able to avoid anybody, anywhere, ever dying, if only it had more money.

Death as an excuse for an outpouring of wailing grief from the community is something we used to witness in foreign lands; now the dead are victims, and as such we must all rise up in their defence. I was trying to decide where this had come from – too easy to date it to Diana’s death, although Tony Blair’s sound bite of ‘the People’s Princess’ certainly was part of the process, establishing Diana as someone whose passing we should all publicly mourn with sacrificial gifts of forecourt flowers. No longer just someone’s Mother, someone’s daughter, someone’s wife – but a community leader, ‘Our Princess’, ‘Our Kim Jong-il’ that we must be seen to keen over or forever be marked as heartless. Diana didn’t ‘just die’ in a motor accident, as do thousands every year, she was the iconic ‘victim’, artlessly tied into New Labour’s ideology that only New Labour could protect the poor and the vulnerable from the forces of evil. It takes an almighty feat of imagination to see someone born into one of the most powerful families into the land, married to the sion of another powerful family, wealthy beyond the wildest imagination, as doe eyed victim who should have been the subject of conservation measures, but we managed it; buoyed up by repetitive photographs of those doe eyes peeping out at us – the antithetical image for the pantomime image of Savile with the bulging eyes. Doe eyes good, bulging eyes bad. Doe eyes = flowers and Teddy Bears. Bulging eyes = smashed headstones and demands to dig him up.

Yet what, objectively, do we know of either individual beyond the caricatures painted by a media freed from libel restraints? Very little, beyond the fact that one was allegedly a victim, and one allegedly had victims. Beyond that they were merely one of thousands of individuals who die in old age or motor accidents.

So it is the perpetrators of victimhood, or the holders of that esteemed office, who are key to our new found emotive behaviour. The idea that ‘victimhood’ was to be the prime mover in society can be dated very firmly to the days of New Labour ideology. Jack Straw’s Youth Justice and Criminal Evidence Act in 1999 established that no longer were our courts objective arbiters of fact where accuser and alleged perpetrator stood face to face; now some victims were too frail, too victimised, too traumatised to be expected to ever set eyes on the author of their misfortune again. The jury must of necessity be influenced by the sight of the witness shielded by curtains from having to set eyes on the suspect again – ‘it’ must have happened, look! they cannot even bear to see them again. Objectivity was taking flight from British justice. No longer just weighing impartial facts, but witnessing the victim’s pain.

Harriet Harman took it a step further; not only was the jury to be influenced, the judge too. The Victim Impact Statement! The Judge must take into account the victim’s heart rending outpouring of grief, a subjective fact, for whilst one person may find having their car stolen an impertinence, an annoyance, a criminal act; another will detail how their entire life – and future – was irredeemably marred, blighted, and destroyed by the loss of their Ford Fiesta. The sentence was to be influenced by matters that could not have been known by the perpetrator before he took action. Now, you may say that ‘you take your victim as you find him’ is a precept of British justice – the notion that if someone dies because they had heart failure, something you could not have known when you shouted at them, then you may still be responsible for their death – but it is also one of the precepts of social control that society is better protected when prospective offenders are aware of the penalty of offending. You knew if you took a gun with you on a robbery that it would result in ‘x’ being added to your sentence, and you weighed the odds accordingly – now it depends on how the person you pointed the gun at feels about it, which in turn depends on the victim’s past mental health and their ability to conjure up a suitable emotive reason – ‘the loss of my car stopped me from adopting this vulnerable Rwandan child’ gaining more points on the sentence than ‘the loss of my car stopped me going into work as an evil banker’. The Victim Impact Statement is now invariably read out on the steps of the court by the podgy faced local solicitor enjoying his five minutes of fame – the frail victim being far too frail to speak for themselves.

The 2003 Criminal Justice Act provided for a stiffer sentence where the crime was motivated by hate – for a sexual preference, a disability, a race or religion, and importantly, the victim was able to decide whether their particular crime had been ‘hate motivated’. If they thought it was – it was! Thus the elderly white pensioner has no ability to say ‘stiffer sentence please, he only mugged me because I was obviously old and he figured I must have just collected my pension in that post office on a Friday’ but the elderly black pensioner or the elderly muslim could ignore this obvious reason for being mugged and insist that it was because he was black/muslim/homosexual, and be rewarded by seeing the accused given a longer sentence. This only encouraged people to see themselves as stereotyped in one particular victimhood or another if at all possible.

Subjective justice is complete now, the victims go straight to the TV stations, having self-identified their selected niche victimhood, bypassing the police; the public en masse pronounce guilt based on their emotive reaction to the victims ’story’, bypassing the courts; God help them if their bottom lip doesn’t wobble sufficiently, they’ll get no justice, may even wind up being accused of the crime themselves.

The next stage must surely be bypassing the prison service? First one to spot a gallows on the crossroads wins.


10 responses to “From Stiff Upper Lip to Wobbly Lower Lip in One Generation.

  1. Well, said, all this victims support bullshite, only creates jobs for the sterotype policemans wife, their are a load bollocks denial of a persons
    right to a fair trial, I suffered a post traumatic stress disorder this evil
    man stole a gnome from my front garden, there, there, there, my poor
    dear, we’re victim support, we’ll put that nasty crim behind bars.

  2. The “Diana Moment” was awful and repellent, in what it seemed suddenly to do to otherwise normal functioning English human beings.

    Other retailers around me all said, in passing now and then…”We’re closing all day for the funeral, I presume you are too?” (I got the message, it’s OK…)

    My staff all said “Hey, we’re not coming in on Saturday as we want to watch the funeral on the telly”.

    My customers all said “as you’ll be closed on Saturday, we’ll want to collect all the finished work nice and early on Friday.”

    After it but not before it, we then got “roadside shrines” to people killed in RTAs, and also (specially in Bootle and Tockie and Crockie and Norris-Green) to scumbags and scallies knifed or shot in the street by their enemies. Flowers laid by total strangers, tied to the nearest lamp-post.

    I blame Diana partly, for sucking up to it all in glee. But I also Blame the GramscoFabiaNazis for turning us (on purpose) into an uncurious, uncritical, howling mob.

    It’s possible to make orcs out of ordinary living creatures. Tolkien showed how Morgoth could easily do it.

  3. Good point, how did we get in this rediculous situation, I wonder how they
    would have coped on the front line, probably flooded the trenches in tears,
    what makes me angry is they carry on like a blood relative at a funeral, when in truth they hardly know the person!

  4. Concerned Briton

    It is good to know I am not entirely alone in thinking I must have slipped into a coma a few decades ago – and then found myself woken up in another country.

    One which is demographically sabotaged in regards to the continuance of the indigenous population, one which is so emotional over every issue that that all logic flies out of the window (and people do not even have the capacity to think beyond their pre-programmed narrative), one where nothing at all seems to function properly and where nothing isn’t stinking with corruption, and one where every main political party and every institution ranging from the police, scouts, the church, the courts, charities, or whatever else, are now bastions and mouthpieces of what this site seems to call ‘GramscoFabiaNazis’ and their ideological agendas.

    The only possible amusing aspect as the ship goes down can come from playing a game of special interest ‘top trumps’ and the potential knots that could be in place that would make these people dizzy.

    That, and watching their futile attempts at eternally proposing more insanity to cover up the consequences of their previous insanity, which they often seem to have in their heads as being some sort of draconian ‘conservative’ world of old – and not the “liberal” one which the GramscoFabiaNazis themselves have largely been in control of establishing for the last 50 years or more.

    Surely it is time for a real revolution, to overthrow their hegemony? But alas, who will fight it when most of the population has now been shipped out of a GramscoFabiaNazi production line, like clones, and an entirely new demographic has also arrived?

    Of course, all this overturning and de-constructing of our society and our nation is not just a mere accident or twist of fate. Quite the contrary, as there have been people out there who have stated from the outset that they wish to “‘make the West so corrupt that it stinks.'”.

    And that is what they have done. Extremely successfully. We haven’t even seen the worst of it yet.

    The instigators designed the web and the “useful idiots” went about building it.

    Now, like flies to be devoured, we are all trapped in it, and perhaps most tragically of all, many people seem to have come to enjoy their trap or at the least they know of nothing different – and some of those struck with religious fever to the causes really do seem to want to offer this country and its people up for some kind of sacrificial dinner.

    This is the way Britain and the British seem to want to end themselves, not with a bang, but with a wobbly lipped whimper. It is a tragedy.

    Somewhat ironically, I cannot see anybody leaving us all a teddy bear after we are gone (in such tragic and soul destroying circumstances).

    Maybe that is why the tragedy has to be avoided where at all possible, so we can be the ones who leave an ironic statement of faux bereavement on the grave of the GramscoFabiaNazi’s and their concepts and constructions.

    A teddy bear with a semi-literate outpouring of sentimentalism, finished off with a most respectful “R.I.P” should do the trick nicely. After all, it is what they would have wanted.

  5. A real “Masterpeice” factual, informative, correct, of course those who
    put in place the policy of “Creative Corruption” in order to destroy the
    state have acheived considerable sucess, it has indeed taken many trenches
    in all areas of public office, however this was the plan, create the machinery
    of state corruption, you no longer have a state, your enemy destroyed.
    However is the battle lost, I feel not, corruption is reversable if caught in
    time, in Britain we have allowed it to spread like an out of control cancer
    in all areas of public life, our failure to remove corrupt mangers and networks within our state institutions has cost us dearly I will agree, however
    if allowed to continue our destruction is a certainty, call we fall into a lybian
    state existance, yes we could, could we have police corruption as seen in
    some third world countries, yes, we do indeed have it, at the moment we
    still have a small window of opportunity to reverse the situation, if we fail
    to take this opportunity we are not just bankrupt but truely dommed.
    If we reflect now, and realise the failings presented, the issues of mass
    immigration and corruption are addressed, we will have a period of
    stability in which we can analyse further the situation, If the negligent politians and basket case judges continue to conspire and assist these enimies
    of Britian the county we once new will be beyond all memorable recognition,
    remember, legislation is a military weapon, long term it destroys like posion
    Ivy, those who hate england know this all to well!

  6. I’m an American and I know exactly where I was and what I was doing when I heard Diana died, even though I have never had any emotional attachment to her. I was watching cartoons at my grandmother’s house. Specifically Disney’s Chip n’ Dale Rescue Rangers. I didn’t even know who she was up until then. Just one of those memories that stick with you for whatever reason.

  7. John O Leary

    That’s funny henry same thing happened to me I was driving a red Nissan turned on the radio I rember lighting a cig turned on the radio it was the first thing that came on, I had a dream some weeks before, in the dream it told me someting bad was going to happen I saw them both on that yacht, I woke up and something told me they were going to die, I also remeber the twin towers, i went to stay with my mother at her holiday bolt in Torquay, I was walking a long the high street, went into a shop to buy a silver chain, it suddenly came on the radio in the shop, I thought at first it was a joke, I got back and turned on the TV the towers were up in smoke, It’s funny how the mind never fogets such things.

  8. John, yes, I remember where I was when I heard about 9/11 also. I even remember that I wore a puffy blue camouflage jacket that day (I might still have it somewhere). I remember that my little sisters came home from school early that day. Me and my older sister were being taught at home. And you know how little kids are, they play games, pretend to do adult things. So my youngest sister used to pretend she was a newspaper editor. Just a day or two before 9/11 she wrote a little article, complete with illustrations in colored pencil, about a plane crashing into a mountain.

  9. John O Leary

    It’s funny, I can remeber back to when I samll child like it was yesterday,
    even my birthday parties, it’s odd how we are able to remember these things,
    I am sure we will still remember them even if we live to be 90, on reflection
    I don’t like the way things are changing, I remember a much better world
    to many bad things happening now, you must be like me, very good memory,
    I remember images and real things, better than the paragraph of a book, but
    I think important things we all remember, after remembering the above,
    if you cast you mind back you’ll remeber lot’s of things, that’s what just
    happened to me when I started thinking about 9/11 and death of diana.