It is time...

[Barman]

Nobody believed the old sailor's tales of the Kraken, a squid so huge it could overturn ships. Ships were smaller in those days and had tall masts bearing an enormous weight of sails. They also, often, had gun ports perilously close to the waterline. A tentacle-hold on one side could pull it over, even if the Kraken was far less immense than the sailors claimed.

In these enlightened days, of course, we know that the monsters of mythology aren't real. Apart from the Kraken, which science discovered in the eighties. And maybe a few others.

Another creature that has passed into mythology is the British ability to become so enraged that they change their country's leadership. Such a creature has not been seen in its full fury since the 1640's and it has been presumed dead and gone. Our Righteous leaders have attempted to ensure it cannot revive by telling us all how weak we are, all the time. Note now the complete collapse of our infrastructure over what is, after all, only a little bit of snow. This country has seen far worse in the past and kept moving through it all.

There were days in the early nineties when I'd open my door and find eighteen inches of snow stacked against it. I'd get the shovel, which was inside the house because the weather forecast had said there would be snow. There was no point heading for the bus stop until the snow plough had passed, but it did, and early on. As long as it snowed, those ploughs kept going. Gritters followed them. I haven't seen a snow plough in years, but to be fair, I haven't seen enough snow to make a plough worthwhile in years either. The gritters are also scarce, with the cost of grit often handed out as an excuse.

We used to go out in the snow, the deeper the better. We'd build big walls to hide behind during snowball fights and we'd build snowmen of fierce appearance. The steepest bank in the area became the Cresta run. Mother's favourite tray became a sled (there was an unrelated incident involving a slag-heap and an old car bonnet, but that won't be allowed now either. Technically, it wasn't allowed back then...). Now, councils lock up parks in case the children hurt themselves. We see television reports of deadly levels of snow, while in the background there appears to be a talcum-powder dusting of white, and tarmac showing beneath the wheels of cars. We are told it is far too dangerous for our precious little selves to risk a bruise or two and we must cower at home until it all goes away. We are weak and fragile, they tell us. We might catch a cold!

Don't go without your five-a-day. Pop those vitamin pills. Check yourself for lumps (a challenge for we males, who have to look for lumps in a bag of lumps). Worry if a mole appears on your skin. Run shrieking to the doctor at the slightest sniffle, bruise or rash. Hurry along to casualty with those paper cuts - they might get infected. Don't smoke. Don't drink. Don't eat fat. Don't eat salt. Count those calories lest they burden your delicate heart with actual work. Don't bend, don't stretch, don't have shelves above eye level that you have to reach up to, don't have shelves you have to bend down to. Grow weak and feeble and inflexible. Take offence at words, at insults directed at other people who aren't even there, or at nothing at all. Be offended by anything and everything, it's good exercise. Under the Nanny state, it's all the damn exercise some people ever get. Oh, that and pressing remote buttons for the TV so they can search among 200-odd channels for something they don't want to watch and then complain about it.

It keeps the professionally offended happy and keeps the rest of us cautious because these unofficial Thought Police will grass us up for a careless remark. The Nanny State makes us think we are weak, that we cannot manage without their benevolence and their advice. We have been conditioned to be compliant. We have been conditioned to not object to anything. We have been conditioned to know our places and most of all, we have been conditioned not to fight back.

Be sure to claim everything you are Entitled to, you're too good for menial work, you must have a minimum wage so that nobody will employ you at that price, you just stay home until that directorship is offered to you. In the meantime, here's an Xbox and a plasma TV to take your mind off everything.

Don't worry about your children. School will ensure they have some bits of paper that used to mean something by the time they leave, school won't trouble their poor little heads with maths and physics and spelling and grammar and most of all, history. School will show them how wonderful and invincible they are, and will teach them about Relationships and Socialism and Political Correctness and how to spy on mummy and daddy. Prepare them for work? Oh, they won't be doing any of that. Far too taxing. We have the benefit forms filled out before the ink dries on the birth certificate.

That conditioning is breaking now, thanks (oddly enough) to the EU. While every British employer is bound by rules that insist all jobs are advertised, that a fair sample of applicants is interviewed, that his workforce contains its quota of black lesbian Zorostrian single-mother drug-addict one-legged midgets, it is now clear that other EU employers are under no such constraints. They can set up in the UK and ship in all the workers they need, no adverts, no quotas based on colour or religion or number of limbs, and it's all perfectly legal under EU law. There is absolutely nothing the unions, the government or anyone else can do about it. Only the EU can change the rules and that is not going to happen. No masked man in a cape is hurtling to the rescue and the British workers (of all colours and creeds) have realised this.

This problem will not be fixed by Count Mandelson insisting it isn't there. It won't be fixed by the Brown Gorgon insisting he's getting on with the job for hard-working families who are now out of work. It won't be fixed by 'Bouncy' Balls telling us that children have too much to do in school and he's going to make sure they don't have to work so hard. It won't be fixed by Jacq the Ripper's riot squads or the Strawman's prisons, which are already full of sweet-wrapper-droppers and those who step on the cracks in the pavement. It won't be fixed by the Radical Reds who are trying to set the workers against the bosses (they still haven't figured out who actually gives the workers jobs and pays them, you see).

This problem, and many others, can only be fixed by people. Furious people. People who realise now what their government has done without their consent - without even telling them what was going on. People who have finally been pushed too far.

I hope the Gorgon's Gremlins and the Cameroids are watching carefully because there is little difference between them in their plans for this country's future. Both want control of a compliant and weak-willed population. Neither will now get that.

Watch closely, because the Kraken is waking.

Go on, Count Mandelson. Poke it some more.

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