Why UK Immigration Policy is a 'Sinking Ship' of Political Absurdity.
From a Two-Bedroom House to a Fifty-Year Problem, Why Migration and Crime Don't Add Up.
A Personal 'Cruel Summer' of Politics.
Did I ever tell you I have this recurring, slightly disturbing dream that happens whenever I’m not bashing away at another blog post on my tired old keyboard? No? Well, that's because it isn't true. However, I do wake up frequently with random ideas that I have to get out of bed for and start tap, tap, tapping away. None, to my best recollection, have been spurred on by the Bee Gees singing to me in 'Night Fever' movie style, but they may as well have been, because their lyrics would definitely go something like this...
“You got the laptop charged and ready,
To write some words to make a name’
But you're deep in REM sleep instead,
Playing a never-ending game.
The world wide web is waiting for your view,
Don't let your inspiration fade,
The digital stage is calling you,
So get your blog post made!
(Chorus)
What you doin' in your bed?
What you doin' in your bed?
Oh, you should be blogging, yeah
Blogging, yeah!”
Now, admittedly, my posts may seem a tad random to the uninitiated. But the Bee Gees singing to me while I'm in blissful REM sleep mode? That's a whole new experience. As to how it came about, well, let's not ask. I don't even know, and I'm not going back there to find out! I've been through my entire home pharmacy (or to anyone else, the more meagre medicine shelf, or drawer), and there's absolutely nothing that causes such side effects. As for telling my GP? Let's just say being sectioned isn't exactly high on my list of how to end this summer. And, if you suddenly don't read any further posts from me for the next six months, it'll mean that Taylor Swift (or worse!) has somehow smashed through my subconscious defense wall and I'm undergoing treatment for it.
The 'Sinking Ship' of UK Politics.
Anyway, what I really wanted to talk about today is that dreaded word, 'migration'—or, more precisely, 'immigration,' because one is the total opposite of the other, isn't it? The question I have, metaphorically speaking, is: is 'Britain a Sinking Ship'? I question this because ever since pinup-man Tony led the country (you remember him, don't you?), and was then unceremoniously booted out of Number Ten, things have gone so far downhill, and we've ended up with one gormless twerp after another taking his place, to the point where we now have a glorified office manager who couldn't be any more out of his political depth than a budgie swimming the Irish Sea for charity.
The Absurdity of 'One-in, One-out.'
Now, to be clear, I'm far from being an educated person. I left school at fifteen with not a qualification to my name. Yet, despite somehow rising to become an arms-length advisor to a previous government, and having what I'd call just a 'modicum' of intelligence to get me by, I fail to get my head around the increasingly worsening state of this country!
Imagine you live in a two-bedroom house. Suddenly, twenty-five random strangers show up, demanding you put them up, feed them, and let them use all your facilities. You're a kind hearted person, so you do all you can to help. You then discover your entire neighbourhood is doing the same thing. Because of the sheer volume of extra people, services forecasted in the last census are now overstretched. Instead of a same-day GP appointment, you're on a waiting list. An operation you were due to have in two weeks has been put back by six months. To top it all off, your surgeon has upped sticks and moved to another country for better wages and less pressure. See?
And to top it all off, you don't know these strangers who have arrived on your doorstep from Adam. They are, for the most part, single men, with no paperwork or checkable history. They may have a past filled with murder, rape, or extortion in their home country, but now they're in your home with your family. They speak little to no English, and you are forced to take them on face value—whatever that means. They say they seek asylum, but asylum from what? It just might be from the justice they've escaped back home.
Under a new 'one-in, one-out' scheme, an equal number of migrants will be eligible to come to the UK through a new route if they have not attempted an illegal crossing before—subject to full documentation and security and eligibility checks. Which, on the face of it, all seems very well and good. The intention is to move a mere FIFTY "migrants" a day back to France. However, estimates suggest there are between 800,000 and 1.2 million unauthorized migrants in the UK. So, let's say, for argument's sake, 900,000. At 50 per day, 18,000 days is a whopping 50 years, by my calculation. Well, what could possibly go wrong? Am I in a different universe to everyone else, or what!
Are 'Crime League Tables' a Political Fantasy?
Okay. At this point, I can feel my medicine cabinet straining at the hinges. I can barely wrap my entire head around all of this, and I might need physiotherapy, too! All of which leads me neatly to another topic: 'Crime League Tables,' a'la one Yvette Cooper.
So, what's a 'Crime League Table'? Well, it sounds like something a sports pundit would love, doesn't it? A big spreadsheet where we can see which police force is top of the table and which one is facing relegation. On the face of it, it sounds sensible—a bit of healthy competition, maybe. But then my physiotherapy-needing brain starts to think. What happens if a police force suddenly starts focusing on the crime equivalent of a tap-in goal, like catching petty thieves, just to get their numbers up? Meanwhile, the hard stuff—you know, the complex organized crime, the stuff that really hurts people—gets shunted to the side because it's too difficult to put a shiny number on it. It's a bit like a hospital moving patients on trolleys into a corridor just to hit a waiting list target. So, are we really measuring success, or are we just creating a new set of statistics for politicians to wave around?
Well, I'm in two 'physiotherapy' confused minds, to be honest. On one side, I can see the statistics being helpful, in as much as seeing how well, or how poorly not only the government is doing, but it also raises how well or badly our local constabularies are doing to be accounted for by us poor idiots who pay for this service. And, let's say for instance, there are a higher number of 'white' related crimes than 'non-white' in any one particular constabulary, it would go a long way towards easing the tension on the "migrant" community, as well as other Asians who have every right to be here, but, because of their skin colour are being taken for migrants and picked on.
The Final 'Cruel Summer' of Blogging.
Right then. After all that, my head is absolutely wobbling with too much information, and now all I want to do is go and have a lie down. But as I’m getting ready, it hits me. "Oh no, not THIS again!" The sheer absurdity of everything I've just written has finally cracked my subconscious defense wall, and now I'm facing the very last thing I need: a recurring, unwanted intrusion of Taylor Swift replacing the Bee Gees. At this point, it feels like my own personal 'Cruel Summer' of blogging, when, at this point, I'm pretty sure I'd rather just have the ‘Night Fever’.
Hello John! Meant to message you earlier to check if you are still around for KBM today - and didn't! As I don't have the Substack app on my phone I'm trying here! Hoping to see you.