The One That Says It Will Never Work. . .

Libertarianism won't work. People will only look out for themselves. The vulnerable and needy will be cast aside to fend for themselves.

Wanna bet?

Nick Hogan is safely back behind bars. Not the bars which the government sought to contain him behind for failing to act as an unpaid policeman and report his customers for smoking – even when he was not on the premises to witness them to doing so – but the bars, the snug, and the restaurant of his own private property, the Swan with Two Necks, in Chorley, Manchester.

It was with the greatest pleasure that I was able to telephone Denise Hogan, his wife, a few minutes ago, and ask her to go and collect her husband from the Forest Bank jail in Pendlebury.

The indefatigable Old Holborn had moved heaven and earth, above and beyond the call of duty, to arrive at the jail with £8,664.50p in cash, to exchange with the Custody Officer there in return for Nick Hogan’s freedom.

Nick was jailed as an example to us all, that when the State barks ‘jump’ you only question ‘how high’.

He didn’t. He said ‘Why’?

The State made him pay a high price for his temerity; they harassed him, hounded him, bankrupted him, and finally forcibly removed him from his family and friends and jailed him for six months.

His crime? No longer the original charge that he had failed to prevent two customers from smoking on his premises. No. He was actually jailed for being unable to pay the £11,600 in fines and prosecution costs resulting from that charge. He had managed to pay off £1,600, but incomprehensibly to the State, he was not able to put his hands instantly on the £10,000 balance.

The State is so used to having a bottomless pot of Taxpayers money to dip into whenever they feel the need, that they have literally lost the ability to comprehend what the recession means to ordinary people.

I blogged about this affair on the afternoon of 28^th March. My primary concern was, and always would be, Nick’s wife Denise.

Nick objected to the smoking ban. He was part of a group of people, unsurprisingly largely publicans, who violently objected to the smoking ban, both regarding choice and their viability as a business. That is both his right, and his concern. He hosted a demonstration on the day the ban came into force. He stood up to be counted. He was willing to challenge the law.

He eventually paid the price for doing so.

Did Denise? She stood in the background, the loyal wife. She is not a ‘campaigning person’. She is not macho. She is just a wife and Mother.

When the Bolton Evening News story came out, I tracked Denise down to interview her. She was ‘shell-shocked’. Having run a busy restaurant and hotel myself, I was only too aware of the position she had been left in.

‘Put a smile on your face girl; keep the show running’, while the posturing idiots make their political point. Not her choice.

Within minutes of my blog appearing kind hearted people were asking how they could help, where could they send money? I asked Old Holborn if he would let me use his Paypal function and cross post the story onto his web site. Unwittingly I had lured him into a nightmare situation where he would be abused, vilified, threatened, and harassed himself. One day I shall blog about the back ground events to this saga, but today is a day of celebration.

Within 36 hours over £5,000 had been raised. A further £1,200 was donated over the next two days before the campaign received a crucial helping hand from political blogger, Guido Fawkes, who publicised it on his influential site.

Money came in from all over the world, the International Blogosphere had reacted in a truly heart warming way, outraged at the behaviour of the State.

Four days after my story first appeared, Old Holborn’s Paypal account held in excess of £9,700 in assorted currencies. We had to ask people to stop sending money! Then began the battle to persuade Paypal that we were not part of an International money laundering cartel….

Today we succeeded, and with the good wishes of thousands of ordinary men and women, equally battered by the recession, Nick Hogan is once more in the bosom of his family, able to support his wife Denise and their children, instead of being locked up with drug dealers and murderers.

Thank-you Blogosphere – and well done.

The fact that so many of you responded is a powerful message from the voting public that politicians would be well advised to heed. The Blogosphere will not be controlled by politicians, bound up in regulations, throttled by impenetrable legislation. It is not a single target that a ‘D’ notice can be fired at. We are not beholden to advertisers.

“We are the authentic, unfiltered, voice of your electorate”.

Be afraid, ye righteous, ye Statists. We don't need you. We don't need you to grant us permission to act in support of those we deem deserving. We don't need you to guide our actions or to make sure our actions are 'fair' or 'appropriate'. We don't need you to tell us who the deserving are.

We don't need you one little bit.

I have shared a drink and a smoke with Old Holborn on a number of occasions, and was fortunate enough to meet Anna Raccoon on the most recent 'little walk'.

I am hugely, ridiculously and pathetically proud of them, their actions and my small association with them.

The One That Had A Good Time. . .

Not long in from OH's little stroll. I would have stayed longer, but the Snowolf doesn't understand and needed a walk of her own.

I'll not do a complete re-hash, but I will say that I was surprised with the reception we got from the phalanx of armed forces vets in the Westminster Arms and around Parliament itself, good men and women who seemed genuinely interested in what we were doing, why were doing it and as far as I witnessed, wishing us all the best.

Some people get very snotty about 'The Walk', and I don't understand why. Is there a 'look at me!' aspect about it? Perhaps for some. Did we change anything? Not in the slightest. Did we make the 646 quake in their boots? No way.

When asked by a friend why I was doing this, my response was 'Well, if I don't, who will?' Did it matter if I did it? No.

The same friends also display a certain nervousness, the expectation that I will get into trouble. Well, why would I? There is no law in this country about wearing a mask, or walking down the street, or doing both simultaneously. As disturbed as I am about the way things are going in this country; things haven't got that bad yet. It is not an offence to go out sans ID, unlike some of our fellow EU members. Yet.

Doing what we did today, we were never going to get into any trouble. There isn't any there to be had. I'll let you into a little secret. What we did today was not daring in the slightest. It was not subversive, not radical, not anything.

From my perspective, OH's line about it only being a walk is not some mechanism to get around protest laws in Westminster, it is a clear statement of fact. The way some people react when I tell them about it, you'd think that we were running the risk of being cast into some Cat. A prison somewhere, never to be seen again.

The sad thing is, this says more about the public's perception of what is permissable, than it does about any laws Westminster and Brussels have passed. If they can suggest that doing this is likely to end badly, if they can insinuate that going for a walk and wearing a silly £5 plastic mask is some form of civil disobedience, then the gig is up. They don't need to pass any laws, they don't need to explain to the electorate why they've done it. We've done it for them.

It makes me very sad that people's automatic reaction to the act of wearing fancy dress, walking down one of the busiest streets, in one of the world's busiest cities, carrying nothing but a few quid in your pocket, could somehow result in 'trouble'. As a result, they don't do it.

I don't think they should do it, it's up to them. Most halfway sensible people wouldn't even consider it. But isn't it amazing that this equates to trouble? How conditioned we become to accepting authority over us, and fearful we are of questioning it.

So, that bring us back to the question put to me. Why did I do it?

Because I wanted to.

Because I could.

Because I was able to meet a group of likeminded people. Young and old, male and female. I was able to meet the two young Geordie girls who had spent what must have seemed like the last week on a bus down from Newcastle, just to do this. The residents of France and Switzerland, showing that whilst they may be ex-patria, they still think of home.

The main reason I did this was because it was fun.

Remember folks, the only real barriers in your way are the barriers you put in place yourself.

The One That Wishes He'd Thought Of It . . .

Old Holborn has been sloganeering and has come up with the following slogan to describe the essence of Libertarianism. It is a thing of beauty:



Do as you want, or do as you are told.

Perfect.

He then follows it up with this:

Think wisely when you have your chance to vote and always ask the question:

"Will they let me do as I want, or will they force me what to do what they want?"

I have nothing to add to this.

The One That Could Not Have Put It Better Himself. . .

From OH, and with no apologies for pasting it here:

Parliament is an outdated anachronism. Men in tights, shooting galleries, Smokers bars, late night sittings, whips, Black Rod, the Mace, Parliamentary Privilege and first past the post.

Stick it all up your arse. Sideways

A new speaker is not even rearranging the deckchairs on the Titanic. Throw it all out, raze it to the ground and salt the earth.

I want democratically elected politicians, dedicated the [I think that should be 'to' - Wolfers] serving their constituents, proportionately representative and with minimal powers over my life. I want a reduction in Government an anorexic would be proud of. I want the power they hold on our behalf returned to local councils, made of people who are not career arse lickers and can be held to account over a pint on a Friday night. I want local, federal law making by people I can talk to. I want referendums and I want representation. I want the fat bloated state starved.

Protect the borders, Police the streets. Everything else is down to me. And I can do it so, so much better than those 646 cuntwafting fucktards.

I don't think I take exception to one thing in that.

The One That Thinks They Have No Shame. . .

Following The Times and Justice Eady's naming of Orwell Prize winning plod blogger, Night Jack, comes this amazing peice of chutzpah over at Old Holborn's place.

Hi,
I am doing some research on Haringey council, Baby P, etc and one thing I am trying to locate is a communication from Cecilia Hitchen to Clive Preece which allegedly says that no further children should be given care orders due to cost considerations. Someone mentioned that you may have had sight of this?
Are you able to help at all?
Thanks for reading this.
Daniel Foggo, senior reporter, The Sunday Times +44 20 7782 7730

I like OH, he is irascible, controversial and not afraid to speak his mind. Sometimes I think he gets things wrong, sometimes I think he goes too far, but I don't hold that against him, debate is what blogs are all about.

I was surprised with the calm nature of his response:

Hi Daniel,

Do your own research. Oh, and fuck off.

Old Holborn
An anonymous blogger

I still think the MSM really don't quite get it. We're not wannabe hacks, as a rule, blogging is a cathartic process, a form of therapy, if someone reads it, that's nice. If someone agrees then that's a real bonus.

The Times have proven that they, or perhaps more accurately, Rupert Murdoch, fear the bloggers. We can't be controlled with sackings, pay-cuts or demotions to the fashion desk. We follow our own agenda and not an editorial line.

If a fellow Libertarian says something I do not agree with, I will disagree with them. This does not happen in the MSM. They hate that. We are unpredictable. So what if I, Leg-Iron, OH, DK, Dick Puddlecote, Trixy or any other blogger doesn't have the readership numbers of The Times? Readers certainly aren't why I do this.

For them to shit on one of 'us' and then go asking another for help, is akin to the crew of the Enola Gay to dropping the bomb, then landing in Kyoto and asking a local to sub them a sushi dinner.

Amazing.