Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Cunt! (and other whining)
Let’s get this straight; spies are cunts, utter fucking despicable grassing cunts, all of them, every single one. MI5 and MI6, as ‘our’ spies are even bigger cunts because they claim to be ‘defending the national interest’ and want to be seen as aloof from the dirty, murderous, torturous business of ‘intelligence’ gathering. They claim to be working for ‘us’ but really they are have always worked on behalf of the vested economic interests of their pals in the city and the aristocratic/financial elite. They are there to maintain the status quo, to do deals and sponsor tyrants and torturers when it suits their interests as it did in Iraq and Libya, as it did in Turkey and Saudi Arabia, as it did in countless African, South American and Far Eastern hellholes. At home they spied on trade unionists, peace campaigners, environmental activists, animal rights protestors, hippies, lefties and anyone else who threatened their cosy little hierarchy.
Yet the last decade has seen a cosy revisionism at work, thanks to programmes like ‘Spooks’ and the ‘war on terror.’ regardless of the fact that time after time the intelligence service has been exposed as an incomptent and comcial organisation when it has been asked to do some real digging – the existence of chemcial and biological weapons in Iraq and the ludicrous ‘dirty dossier’ for example exposed just how little actual intelligence MI5/6 had on the ground and how they would fit the facts to suit their political paymasters. Blair/Bush needed chemcial weapons as a pretext for invasion and therefore MIwhatever and the equally blundering CIA found them.
Remember Colin Powell’s ridiculous presentation to the media on Al Queda’s network of underground bunkers that looked like something the Dr No scenery designers would’ve rejected as too outlandish? But people bought it, no matter how obviously exaggerated this ‘intel’ was, senior politicians said they had no option but to believe the veracity of the spook’s claims. Yes, now they all say they were a bit naive, but they weren’t. They were just another bunch of lazy, timid careerists who allowed themselves to be bought off by greedy egotists and fanatics like Blair and Bush.
With the pointless release of ‘Tinker, Tailor, Soldier Spy’ this week, the world’s most over-rated actor since De Niro, Gary Oldman slips into a cod-posh accent and sensible specs to deliver his turn as George Smiley, the ‘star’ of John Le Carre’s novel. The original setting for Le Carre’s novels was the cold war era when those pesky commies were the enemy, a simpler time when the ‘red menace’ became a global threat to the vested economic interests of ‘the west’ and therefore had to be defeated if not militarily then financially.
As the US outspent the Russians and soviet communism imploded, the Anglo-American/NATO axis declared this an ideological triumph, a liberation for those oppressed by the tyranny of communism yet all it did was re-ignite the smouldering ethnic and religious powder keg that communism had kept a lid on for almost a century. First the Balkans went off and then the removal of secular arab leaders in Palestine, Iraq and now Libya has allowed the islamists to reassert themselves across many parts of the world where they were once a fanatical rump. Such shortsightedness is the product of over-confidence on the US’s part, as all along the Chinese, you remember the Chinese, the Commy tyrants and torturers it’s OK to do business with – sat back and waited.
When the Berlin Wall came down, it signalled the end of the American century as much as the death of Soviet Communism (not the same thing as the communist ideal). The US and indeed the UK had outspent themselves and were now feebly grabbing around for enemies both real and imagined in order to recgain lost ground but it’s too late. The anglo-american econommy is built on fuck all but speculation, the money men who dictated home and foreign policy throughout the 20th century have shifted their operations and this rear guard action to recapture old markets and bully the little oil producing nations into submission won’t work. The phoney ‘war on terror’ and post-911 interventionism looks increasingly desperate with no ‘end game’ in sight other than an embarassing withdrawl from Afghanistan.
All empires collapse when over-stretched and unlike the Romans, the American empire lasted a mere 50 years. The attack on the twin towers demonstrated how little control the world’s only superpower had over a committed and ruthless handful of idealists. These jihadists were far from being criminal masterminds which only goes to show just how useless the intelligence services have been. Maybe they were too distracted by spying on crusties and other subversives.
The financial meltdown of the past five years has only speeded up the process of the end of the hyper-capitalist era and digital globalisation is an unstoppable force that refuses to confine itself to old ideologies and artifical boundaries. Maybe the future is so uncertain that the genial George Smiley and his ilk of Oxbridge spooks now seems almost comforting to the same kind of moron who goes to see The Kings’ Speech and other shamelss examples of elitist, revisionist shite.
Another year, another futile parade of True Brit musical mediocrity is whelled out to be patronised by Jools Boogie Woogie Holland and Lauren ‘Helga Von Trollop from Allo Allo’ Laverne (the thinking man’s Fearne Cotton). So who’s up for this year’s Barclaycard sponsored corporate fist-fuck?
PJ Harvey’s ‘Let England Snore’ PJ who? Oh yeah her who looks like them birds from the Robert Palmer video with another tedious slice of feminist yet patriotic indie tedium.
Elbow – ‘Build A Coffin Lads’ – hey everyone loves Guy and the guys don’t they? They really killed Glarsto this year with their epic northern doom and gloom anthems. My uncle’s a northerner, he keeps pigeons and everything!
Tinie Tempah – Dick-Ovary – Lil’ Tichy gangta, the grime MC even Dot Cotton can give a room to – see not all dem yoot is bad y’get me?
Katie B – ‘On A Tablet’ – Is katie B related to Katy perry or KT Tunstall or Kate Middleton or Kate Bush or Katie Price aka Jordan – I think she was Jessy J till I googled her.
James Blake – James Blake – I couldn’t even be arsed thinking of a lame skit for anyone who calls their LP after themselves ‘Eponymous Fuckwit’ perhaps. I actually like JB’s Jamie Liddel meets Burial meets Cinematic orchestra meets Four Tett-y glitch soul but he’ll never win.
Anna Calvi – Anna Calvi – didn’t you read the above love? I thought she was the little warmongering French prez’s missus.
Ghost Poet – ‘Peanut Butter Wolf Ate My Homework’ – atleast GP has put a bit of effort into the title if not his supposedly intellectual flow. Hip hop for 6digital listeners.
KIng Creosote & Jon Hopkins – ‘Diamond Glove’ – a tribute to Wacko Jacko by the nu-folktronica beardie crew.
Metronomy – ‘The English Disease’ a a tribute to the ICF and other notorious hooligan firms of the early 80s by a band who sound like a band you’d hear at half past eleven on John Peel in 1982.
Adele – ’86’ – the average age of Adele’s fans apparantly – nah, give the gal a break, now Amy’s thrown a six she’s our only hope for post-Dusty blue eyed soul to go global. Where the fuck did Duffy go to anyway?
That’s right, now that every other two bit fucking ten minute wonder casualwear label has attempted to re-invent themselves for student whoppers who read Nuts and lazy cazzy daddys who buy their clobber from Argos or Amazon, Farah have launched their ‘vintage’ range. Now correct me if I’m wrong but Farah were only ever ‘in’ for about six months in 1983, I remember buying about five pairs of their kecks (and it was only ever Farah kecks not jumpers or fucking t-shirts or cutlery sets) in either grey or beige to go with my Olympia S trabs and a Pierre Cardin jumper or somesuch hideous combo. They were murder to cut up the seam too because the material was that thin it frayed to fuck and anyway you ony wore them to get into shite clubs that wouldn’t allow jeans or cords in the first place. Farah was one step above Gabicci in the ‘one second wonder’ stage but then again, that didn’t stop Gabicci from attempting some kind of retro-vintage relaunch either. Whatever next Gio Goi? Lyle & Scott? Point Of Italy? Georgio Pacino from Bury market?