We are developing the social individualist meta-context for the future. From the very serious to the extremely frivolous... lets see what is on the mind of the Samizdata people.
Samizdata, derived from Samizdat /n. - a system of clandestine publication of banned literature in the USSR [Russ.,= self-publishing house]
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I cannot recall hearing of such a petulant outburst from the normally stately and dignified BBC:
The controller of BBC1 launched an unprecedented attack on Rupert Murdoch yesterday, calling the media billionaire a “capital imperialist” who wants to destabilise the corporation because he “is against everything the BBC stands for”.
Sounds like my kind of guy.
Lorraine Heggessey said Mr Murdoch’s continued attacks on the BBC stemmed from a dislike of the public sector. But he did not understand that the British people “have a National Health Service, a public education system” and trust organisations that are there for the benefit of society and not driven by profit.
Methinks the executives of the BBC sense that they are in trouble. They realise that ‘Auntie’ no longer enjoys an exalted status as a national treasure and, hence, is vulnerable.
The time-honoured and global reputation for fairness, accuracy and objectivity is something they have dined out on, abused and terminally tarnished. And, even if this were not the case, in an era when the market provides so many choices, it is impossible to stem the growing discontent with the arcane and punitive television tax that funds the BBC.
But it’s all the fault of Rupert Murdoch and his band of evil capitalists. (Oh, and George Bush of course).
From the manner in which our governing elites regulate, restrict, control, prohibit and monitor every jot and tittle of our lives, it is probably reasonable to infer that they imagine themselves to be presiding over a motley and sordid collection of cut-throats, gangsters, thieves, perverts, racists, conmen and every other manner of low and untrustworthy creature.
This is the diametric opposite of the truth. On the whole, the British are civil, law-abiding and touchingly decent. Personally, I put this down to our common law heritage.
How strange, then, that there appears to be no public concern whatsoever about an organisation based in this country and whose members clearly feel confident enough to openly publish and distribute such disturbing sentiments:
Two years on then, it seems that during their customary 1 minutes silence in NewYork and elsewhere on September the 11th 2003, Muslims worldwide will again be watching replays of the collapse of the Twin Towers, praying to Allah (SWT) to grant those magnificent 19, Paradise. They will also be praying for the reverberations to continue until the eradication of all man-made law and the implementation of divine law in the form of the Khilafah – carrying the message of Islam to the world and striving for Izhar ud-Deen i.e. the total domination of the world by Islam.
Well, at least they’re not going fox-hunting (I assume).
I remain a passionate advocate of free speech. I think these people should be able to say whatever they want to say. However, and by the same token, other people are free to draw from it whatever conclusions they see fit.
[My thanks to the crew at Gene Expression for the link.]
In a post about a month ago, I detailed the rubber-gloved rise of the rubbish inspectors, the latest bunch of useless bureaucrats to feast upon the fat of Britain’s once glorious but increasingly manacled land.
It seems their army is still on the march to its place in the sun of the regulatory annals of glory. As part of the excellent Stephen Robinson’s Free Country series, Mr Robinson details how these rubbish inspectors are now to increase their own powers of land rulership.
Now that the problem of fly-tipping has grown exponentially over the last few years, due to idiotarian government policies on landfill taxes and fridge disposal, instead of the government finding fly-tipping miscreants and protecting people’s property, it is going to punish these injured parties if they don’t foot the bill themselves to enforce the government’s policies against fly-tipping. Which is simply splendid, don’t you think?
(Fly-tipping is the process where expensive-to-dispose-of waste is dumped illegally upon other people’s property.)
So where you used to think you paid taxes to the state, so they would provide a minimal level of defence against your property, and your person, against ne’er-do-wells, now they’re going to punish you for the actions of these other low-lifes, and still charge you for the police, without actually giving you the benefit of their protection. No doubt as well as having to set up CCTV around your property, for the government’s eye-spy benefit, you will have to pay to have any fly-tipped rubbish on your land sent to government waste disposal centres. Where obviously you will be asked to pay your full quota of landfill taxes, on someone else’s rubbish. And if you don’t do this, the government will, of course, send the boys-in-blue round to make you.
Doesn’t this remind you of anything? A mafia protection racket, for instance?
All round the government is a winner. It gets more cameras, for free, and more revenue, for free, and the UK’s citizens are wrapped up in yet another layer of interfering regulation, and still HMG can sit smugly around whatever’s left of the Kyoto protocol table to claim that Her Majesty’s Government is the font of all light and all goodness. Doesn’t it make you proud to be British?
A little boy called Arran Fernandez that’s who. This lad is clever enough to have caught the attention of the UK Times [No link – you know the drill]:
A BOY of eight has become the youngest person to receive an A at GCSE.
‘A’ is the top grade and the GCSE is a national examination paper for pupils of age sixteen.
As pupils across the country received their results, Arran Fernandez, from Surrey, celebrated the grade awarded for a mathematics paper that he took when he was 7 years and 11 months. Only 32 per cent of candidates – most considerably older – reach the same standard.
So little Arran must be the brainiest kid in his school, right? Wrong. Because little Arran doesn’t go to ‘school’ at all:
Arran, who is also the youngest person to pass a GCSE at any grade – a D in the subject when he was five – is educated at home by his parents, Neil and Hilde.
Another successful product of Britain’s small, but growing, home-school movement, I’d say.
His father, Neil, a political economist who achieved a grade A at O level maths when he was 13, is evangelical about the benefits of home tutoring.
“I believe that every child could do this, given the right encouragement,” he said. “Why are children held back in their earliest years? And why are parents, who are their best educators, discouraged from realising and exercising their ability to teach?”
Because so many generations of parents assigned those abilities over to the state, doubtless believing that the state would do a better job of it. That same state is likely to respond to the increasingly successful reclamation by trying to put a stop to it.
How frightfully decent of those splendid chaps at the Foreign & Commonwealth Office to set up an online-forum to enable the riff-raff to contribute their thoughts and ideas on the proposed EU Constitution.
Registration is a pre-requisite to participation but at least it appears to be cost-free (which is a lot more than anyone can say about participation in the EU itself).
So, is this a genuine effort to solicit and publicise pro-Independence opinion or a potemkin facade calculated to provide a veneer of legitimacy to a decision that has already been made behind doors welded shut?
Another website established by the Foreign Office may hold just a few clues.
[My thanks to Emmanuel Goldstein for both links.]
I’ve read the Daily Torygraph most days now, for the last decade or so, ever since that fateful day I stopped draping myself in the Grauniad every morning, as is the wont of most perennially tax-subsidised students. And pretty much most of the time I’ve found it quite a good newspaper, especially with topics such as its Free Country campaign. On the whole it has also seemed unbiased in its straight news reporting.
But then this morning I find myself staring at a this particular headline, in the news section, covering the changes to the UK’s telephone directory inquiries system:
Callers face chaos and high bills as directory rivals replace 192
For non-UK readers, this concerns the number we always used to phone to get through to directory inquiries. British Telecom, a previously government-owned telecom monopoly since opened up to competition, provided a near-monopoly service on this number, from virtually all fixed lines. → Continue reading: Free market causing chaos again
I love this story. Not just because it sounds the like perfect scenario on which to base 1930’s-style Ealing comedy but because it has given me a glimpse into a world the very existance of which I had, hitherto, not even begun to suspect.
I don’t think many people realise it, but there is a contraband war going on in this country. It is a war which has spawned a clandestine ring of illicit and secretive dealers and buyers operating their own black economy and doing their best to steer clear of the agents of the state.
And just what are these shadowy merchants trading in? Is it narcotics? Is it guns? Is it prostitution? Gambling dens? No, it’s tomato seeds:
The dealer wishes to remain anonymous. Not that he’s ashamed of his seeds: on the contrary, he’s doubts you’ll find better in England. Once you’ve tried their crop, he believes, you’ll be hooked. But if he told you how to buy them, he could be prosecuted – and a small businessman like him can ill-afford a £5,000 fine.
The crop in question goes by the exotic name of ‘White Princess’. But it is not, as you might suspect, a variety of cannabis. Rather, it is a tomato – a “meltingly, sumptuously tasty” variety, according to the pusher, but a mere tomato none the less. And if that strikes you as surprising, you’ll be even more surprised to discover that ‘White Princess’ are just the tip of the iceberg.
This is a story of the bizarre, seldom-seen subculture of unlicensed vegetable-growing. Its wares include rogue tomatoes, “bad” apples and “hot” potatoes; tomatoes are as good an illustration as any of how the market works.
‘Seldom-seen’ is surely an understatement. Who knew such a thing was even going on? Though, reading on, it becomes clear why it is going on:
The Plant Varieties and Seeds Act (1964) makes these tomatoes forbidden fruit – well, at least the seeds from which they are grown.
NEVER EVEN HEARD OF IT!!
According to the act, anyone wanting to sell the seeds of a fruit or vegetable must first register the variety on a National List. Before registration, it must be tested to ensure it is “distinct, uniform and stable”, and a fee must be paid. Sadly for amateur growers, these fees add up to nearly £1,000, in the case of tomatoes, plus an annual renewal fee of £185. There are no exceptions, no grants for amateur growers, and it is illegal for anyone to sell the seeds of unregistered fruit or, by implication, the fruit itself.
Choice-killing legislation at its finest. Still, what the state denies the market provides so no wonder it gives rise to such a lively, profitable and enthusiastic ‘guerilla’ trade.
It’s fair to say Defra doesn’t police the law with much conviction, but the multinationals are always watching. In 1998 a company that illegally marketed grass seed was successfully prosecuted under the Plant Varieties and Seeds Act 1964. It was fined a total of £7,500 and ordered to pay costs of £7,964.
An instructive tale. For non-UK readers, ‘Defra’ is the Department of Farming and Rural Affairs and it is clealy not above moving to protect the interest of the market-hogging corporations. We should never overlook that fact that some large business concerns are not interested in the market they are interested in controlling the market and they use the apparatus of state to do so. Regulatory regimes often result from the connivance between big business and the state.
The linked article is lengthy but well worth reading in my view. It is not just enjoyable for its delightfully, eccentrically British flavour but also because it proves, yet again, that all legislation has precisely the opposite of its intended effect. The aim of the state was to prop up a cartel but instead they have breathed life into a thriving, committed and obviously very well-informed ‘black’ market.
May their tomatoes continue to grow and prosper.
The tabloid newspaper, The Sun is both the best-selling daily newspaper in Britain and (perhaps because of this fact) the most despised among that class of people commonly referred to as the ‘liberal elite’.
The Sun’s peculiar brand of kitchen-table, down-to-earth, working-class, mercifully unnuanced tub-thumping has earned it the nickname of the ‘Daily Red Neck’. To be fair, it is an image that the proprietors of The Sun have never sought to discourage.
But, while its more cerebral counterparts devote acres of print to torturous hand-wringing about the effects of globalisation on the native tribal peoples of the Amazon basin (or something) The Sun is prepared to get its boots dirty and go out and actually perform a public service:
LYING crook Brendon Fearon has been seen by The Sun effortlessly riding a mountain bike — even though he claims he was crippled by freed farmer Tony Martin.
The superfit burglar, who insists he cannot work because of leg injuries caused when Martin shot him, pedalled through streets at high speed.
And that’s not all.
STRIDING along the street with no sign of a limp; DARTING up the three stone steps to his home; STEPPING off pavements with confidence and WALKING his dog without a hint of difficulty.
Yes they actually sent in a surveillance team to follow this urchin around and record the results. I wonder how Mr.Fearon intends to explain this to the Judge (assuming he gets that far).
Once again, The Sun tells it like it is.
Thanks to Elegance Against Ignorance for the tip off about this, which is truly beautiful:
The burglar shot by Tony Martin has been filmed cycling and climbing steps with little apparent difficulty.
Brendon Fearon, who was shot in the legs at Martin’s Norfolk farmhouse, was filmed walking briskly and cycling near his home.
The footage, taken over the past week by The Sun newspaper, shows that the 33-year-old cannot be trusted and is a conman, Martin’s friend and supporter Malcolm Starr said.
And there was me thinking he was an upright citizen.
In 1702, King William III was riding his horse around the gardens of Hampton Court Palace when the horse stumbled on a mole-hill. William was thrown and suffered injuries from which he did not recover. From then on, his Jacobite foes celebrated the event by raising a toast to ‘the little gentleman in black velvet’.
Fast forward three centuries and another species of native British wildlife could be the cause of a government tumble. When supporters of the Countryside Alliance marched through London last September in protest at HMG’s plans to abolish fox-hunting they said they were ‘Born to hunt, ready to fight’. Now, according to the UK Times [no direct link], some of them are about to make good on that threat:
THOUSANDS of people will boycott the payment of council tax, car licence tax and the BBC licence fee under plans by hunt supporters to launch a campaign of “civil resistance” against the proposed ban on foxhunting.
The threat of law-breaking by thousands of otherwise respectable middle-class citizens is revealed in confidential documents prepared by the Countryside Alliance and leaked to The Sunday Times.
Of course, this isn’t really all about fox-hunting. It’s a cumulation of deeply felt resentments about a lot of things (see our archives for details) and, probably above all, about a government which rules rather than represents.
Still talk is cheap and fighting talk is wholesale. Do the countryside rebels have the grit to actually do it? Or sustain it? Marching up and down with placards is one thing, but actual tax rebellion is hitting the state where it hurts and that means that the state is certain to hit back. Only through a willingness to accept the consequences can the rebels hope to succeed. But what if they do succeed and large pockets of the countryside become, in effect, ungovernable? What if they succeed thus and it spreads?
Too early to tell yet but I find the editorial position taken by the Times to be of considerable interest:
It is indicative of the ever-tightening grip of a controlling society. New laws, many from Brussels, increasingly control what we can or cannot do. Employers spend more time managing red tape than expanding firms and creating jobs. Motorists operate under the watchful eye of ubiquitous speed cameras. Government intrudes on what used to be considered our private sphere, regulating our behaviour and demanding with menaces information about every jot and tittle of our lives. Hunt supporters are saying enough is enough, that somebody has to take a stand against this assault on our liberties. And they have a point.
Succinctly put and admirably correct. Nonetheless we’re not just talking about a sit-down demo or a campaign of fly-leafleting here and while the editorial doesn’t quite go as far as condoning the rebellion they only stop just short, leaving no-one in any doubt as to where their sympathies lie. When an institution as reliably august and reputable as the Times gives an approving nod and wink to a campaign of civil disobedience then you know for sure that there is a whiff of real excitement in the air.
As I walked along Sumatra Road yesterday in the early evening, a burglar alarm rang out in a house about ten along from where I’m moving out of. Out of twenty houses along that stretch of the road, there have been half a dozen burglaries in the last two months (including my Moslem neighbours who were robbed whilst they were at evening prayers in the mosque in late June, and myself two weeks ago).
The modus operandi is identical and no fingerprints are ever found, suggesting that either the burglar is a police informant (so they don’t want to catch him because British police are not allowed to employ an informant with a criminal record), or he wears gloves and has some skill. The ‘local’ police based three miles away admit that they are surprised at the recent crime spree in the neighbourhood: burglaries may have trebled in the area this year.
Today, having dialled 999 and explained that there had been a number of burglaries in the area I gave my name and address and assumed that a normal response would occur: either nothing or at least 20 minutes response time. I cannot honestly say that the service was worse than I expected.
When I called back I was told that the control centre would not send anyone unless there was evidence that someone was actually inside the property. I asked if this happened frequently and was told that 95% of alarm call-outs were a waste of time. If this is so, I’m surprised that burglar alarms are even allowed in this country.
So the solution is obvious: if a neighbour is burgled, call the police saying that you’ve shot a burglar, give the address you think the burglary is in progress, then drink a couple of glasses of whiskey, before the cops arrive to either protect their informant or crush an attempted self-defence, so you can claim to have been confused. Do NOT try to get in a car. You don’t want to risk losing your driving license.
As for being burgled myself, does anyone know a pig-farmer?
I just did a little talk spot on the radio, jabbering away about politics with a guy called Mike Dickin, who, in addition to doing his fare share of sport talk, takes care of the political chat on Talk Sport Radio. I’m doing little spots with Mike Dickin quite often at the moment, although usually at very short notice. When I typed “Mike Dickin” and “Talk Sport Radio” into google, this came up as entry number two, out of just ten. I don’t know what that proves exactly. Perhaps that most of the people who listen to Mike Dickin are too old or too poor to be bothering with the internet.
Mike Dickin is what we here would call a Carr-ite. The world’s going to hell but what the hell can we do about it? “I don’t trust the police. I don’t trust social workers. I don’t trust any of the people to whom I pay such vast sums of money to take care of things” – that’s what he was saying today in his intro. In among agreeing with him about state over-regulation and the state crowding out individual initiative, I tried to put in an optimistic word along the lines of “you can still do some things – it’s not all misery”. He replied “Maybe you can, but I’m starting to think seriously that you can’t do it here any more?” “So where can you?” I said. I can’t remember what he replied, but no specific locations were mentioned.
During our brief conversation, I accused Dickin, politely I hope, of being a fine example of the Baby Boom generation having entered its Grumpy Grandad phase. When the Baby Boom was a teenager it told the world it had invented sex. When it got its first job it and started driving about in a flash car it told the world that it had invented the idea of getting a job and driving about in a flash car. And now the Baby Boom is starting to creep away to the pub where it booms forth to anyone who will listen that the world is going to hell, and that young people these day, blah blah blah.
However, it occurs to me that I might just as fruitfully have identified the particular way in which the State now makes a mess of our lives as having lilkewise entered its Grandad phase, or to be more exact its Grandma phase. → Continue reading: Grandma socialism
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Who Are We? The Samizdata people are a bunch of sinister and heavily armed globalist illuminati who seek to infect the entire world with the values of personal liberty and several property. Amongst our many crimes is a sense of humour and the intermittent use of British spelling.
We are also a varied group made up of social individualists, classical liberals, whigs, libertarians, extropians, futurists, ‘Porcupines’, Karl Popper fetishists, recovering neo-conservatives, crazed Ayn Rand worshipers, over-caffeinated Virginia Postrel devotees, witty Frédéric Bastiat wannabes, cypherpunks, minarchists, kritarchists and wild-eyed anarcho-capitalists from Britain, North America, Australia and Europe.
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