Guess what song is Nick Griffin’s ring tone. I was standing next to the British National party leader in a BBC green room last week when his mobile phone rang. Cue chiming guitar – it was Sweet Home Alabama. You guessed Ebony and Ivory, didn’t you? No, what Nick had blaring out of his phone was moderate, acceptable racism – a paean to the segregationist governor of Alabama and two-time presidential candidate George Wallace (who, before he died, rather movingly apologised to black people for his hideous policies).Wha...?
It is sort of okay to play Sweet Home Alabama in polite company, a catchy howl of disenfranchised redneck southern anguish.Gosh, thanks awfully, Rod. I wouldn't want to get drummed out of polite society for playing a politically incorrect pop song.
Of course, you could just be totally wrong.
Ahhh, research. That's for journalists, isn't it? Not lazy comment piece writers...
Tsk Julia, you post about Nick Griffin and completely neglect the most shocking race hate story in the news.
ReplyDeleteMy God, today: racially-aggravated-drink-pouring. Tomorrow: gas chambers.
"My God, today: racially-aggravated-drink-pouring."
ReplyDeleteEven worse - it was Diamond White! Hate crime!
"Police said the fact the woman chased the man would have attracted lots of attention, and appealed for witnesses."
It would...? Bit of an assumption there, plod, eh?
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ReplyDeleteI once had a drink poured over me by an indignant transvestite. (Now there's a sentence you don't see every day.) Perhaps I should have reported it as a hate crime.
ReplyDeleteHe/she/it was tottering about on serious heels outside the Kudos Bar at Charing Cross as I passed.
Now on the whole I'm with Mrs Patrick Campbell with regard to this sort of behaviour, but our gender-confused friend took it into its head to sashay over and introduce itself with a cheery "How are you tonight, dearie?"
The tone and body language made it clear that the piss was being taken, a little game of gross out the straight guy for a laugh, to which I took exception and replied in kind, "All the better for not seeing you, dear."
It took a couple of seconds for the meaning to sink in properly, whereupon the creature flounced magnificently and poured the contents of its glass over my head.
Fortunately for his/her subsequent physical integrity, the residual contents of the glass consisted almost entirely of ice which bounced off harmlessly.
Point to me, I thought. Cheered me up no end.
I know the geezer in that e-fit picture. That's Wayne Toerag, innit? He lives on Thamesmead; or is it Kidbrooke? No, it could be the Stonebridge. Ah, sod it, he lives more or less everywhere.
ReplyDelete"Ah, sod it, he lives more or less everywhere."
ReplyDeleteIncreasingly so...
I'm off to Alabama with a banjo/copy of Mein Kampf on my knee.
ReplyDeleteIt's so obvious when you look at the lyrics carefully through Rose-tinted glasses.
That e-fit looks like on of those 'greys' from outerspace. Is this interplanetary racism?
ReplyDelete