Ed Balls - quite the cunning stunt, isn't he?

Ed Balls - quite the cunning stunt, isn't he?

Your Reaper doesn't quite know why, but viagra cialis online pharmacy pharmacy Balls is one of these politicians who brings out more anger in me than most of the others. Perhaps it's the fact he constantly blinks as he lies his way through countless interviews. Perhaps it's the way he appears to have been coached by Gordon Brown into giving tractor statistics and meaningless answers to just about any question he's asked.


Perhaps it's because he replied with "So what?" in the House of Commons when David Cameron pointed out the country had its "highest tax burden in history". Perhaps it's his astonishing brass neck, which was shown during the leadership contest last year when he said in The Observer that "too many" British workers had been affected by migration policies under Labour.


Perhaps it's because of the way he changes his message to suit the political mood. When the economy turned to shit, he said those who advocated what he dubbed "light touch regulation" had been "routed". In other words, he said they were wrong. During his days as Chief Economic Adviser to the Treasury, something he did for eight years, he had previously been boasting about the same so-called light touch regime of City regulation he had been instrumental in creating. He's also on-record as promoting "a light touch approach at the global and EU level". I notice that he's been caught out again attempting to revise history today.


Perhaps it's the fact he's so stingy and miserly that he attempted to claim for two Rememberance Sunday poppy wreaths on his expenses. Perhaps it's because he's a self-serving little shit who's in politics simply for what he can get - and it's been a hell of a lot so far.


Or perhaps, to quote a tweet from Giles Coren, it's the fact that "the weasly turnip-faced cunt always smile[s] when he's saying mean things".


Like I said earlier, it's a total mystery why Ed Balls gets my back up.


You may have seen that this morning, news emerged that the economy shrank by 0.5% during the month of December. As Fraser Nelson points out, it's really not as bad as some are making out. Predictably enough, the opposition is being predictably opportunistic and is making hay of this. It's a pathetic statistic, to say the least, and it does raise interesting questions about how quickly we're going to get the economy back on its feet. All this would be considered by a Shadow Chancellor who had ideas and knew a thing or two about economics. Ed Balls, also predictably, has none of those things. He pretty much got his job by default.


He appeared on the Daily Politics today, and predictably yet again, he did badly. Just about all of the facts on this issue contradicted what he was saying, meaning no one could take him very seriously. Predictable? Yes indeed. Whilst not claiming outright that government spending cuts were completely responsible for the fall, he came close to it at several points. Andrew Neil, as ever, caught him out and when Balls came to replying, he just sounded like a worm trying to wriggle off the hook. It didn't work.


I once recall seeing an episode of Family Guy where Stewie Griffin took over the world. His first act was to pass a law demanding that, on seeing his father Peter, (or The Fat Man, as Stewie calls him) members of the public were obliged by law to throw apples at him. Perhaps a similar law is required in order to deal with Ed Balls' stupidity and obnoxiousness.


* Should anyone from the BBC be reading this, kindly let us bloggers embed these videos from the Daily Politics onto our blogs. We're not all evil, you know. We just like taking the piss out of Ed Balls.

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I Got Nothing


I'm a day behind, and so I should be writing two blog posts today in order to catch up.

But really. I got nothing.

Usually, I have something to complain about. Or I can walk you through my day, and spit out a thousand words that way. Today, I had the day off, and I mostly laid around in bed watching movies, reading, resting. It was fabulous, I assure you, but not a day I feel compelled to blog about. I suppose I could write a mini-thesis on the superiority of watching television in bed versus watching television while sitting on the couch, but I suspect you have your own Best Way, and my way is just my way. I could give you a review of The Girlfriend Experience, but if you want the tepid reviews, you can read them on Amazon. I could tell you everything I like about Christopher Eccleston as the Ninth Doctor, and the total cuteness/yummy-ness of Billie Piper, but fangirl squee makes for boring blogging.

I've been cruising around Googling "freelance writing" this evening. There's an amusingly vast number of "how to" articles written no doubt by freelance writers trying to generate web content, about freelancers generating web content. If you're not careful, you could fall into one of these black holes and lose every shred of hope you ever had of making a living as a writer. There are several websites that purport to list useful leads for freelancers, mostly for copywriters who can work in person, in SoHo, generating ad copy for the myriad of uninteresting products and services that require dull and uninspiring internet ad copy. I'm reminded of a million monkeys on a million typewriters, and also a documentary I saw about people in some Asian country living in internet cafes, making a dollar per webpage or some sad statistic like that, no doubt writing Nigerian e-mail scams and cialis spam. Maybe writing code that spontaneously generates Nigerian e-mail scams and cialis spam.

Freelance writing just doesn't seem to be a viable career. It seems sort of like eating celery, where you burn more calories chewing than you actually gain from digesting. And in the end, you have a portfolio full of badly spelled Nigerian e-mail scams and invitations to watch Mandy on LiveWebCam. It's what you do, I suppose, when you Got Nothing. Sort of like what I have today. I don't have any bright ideas for a new poem, short story, or novel. I don't have any bright ideas about brilliant blog posts. I checked my stats today, and the Top 10 Western Dumplings post is my current best-seller. It seems that a lot of people are seeking photographs of spaetzle and soup dumplings. My stats tracker says I should be blogging about unusual foods, not the existential angst of making a living as a writer. I should definitely NOT be posting poetry, or stories from my trunk. I should not be doing book reviews, especially if the books are several years old. Movies out in theaters now seem to be an ok draw. Perhaps that's it. I write about a movie and a weird food, every day.

I could give you a behind-the-scenes on the movie-theater hopping I wrote about the other day. When my friend and I used to spend the day at the movies, slinking from theater to theater, we would first make a food run. I had a huge, black, fake leather purse, and we'd make the rounds at our favorites places to fill the sucker up before seeing the first matinee. Candy. Sodas and chips. Loaded baked potatoes from Wendy's. With chili and cheese and sour cream. Red vines. All loaded into this great big shoulder bag and smuggled into the theater. There were many days when we were the only people in the theater, and we would unpack this disgusting picnic and make pigs of ourselves in the light of the silver screen. We'd eat enough calories to fuel an entire third world village, and wash it down with cold Coca Cola. Little did I know back then that I would be recounting the story in a desperate attempt to Have Something, when I Got Nothing.

This article about freelancing showed up on my Facebook wall today. Among other things, it says that you can't be a writer and have writer's block. You need to be able to sit down and generate copy on demand. You don't have time to be a prima donna. You have to put words on the page in order to eat. However uninspired. However awful and pointless. You have to make the words flow in order to live. If you have to beat yourself about the head and shoulders with a tire iron. If you stay up too late. If you piss everybody off. If you bore everyone to tears. You have to Have Something, because if you've Got Nothing, you'll starve. In a gutter. Without pants. And die.

So, even if I've Got Nothing, I'll write about that.

I'll write about anything. Even nothing at all.