The Angry Exile: Lies, damned lies and anything a politician says.

The Hangman

Into our town the Hangman came,
Smelling of gold and blood and flame.
And he paced our bricks with a diffident air,
And built his frame in the courthouse square.
The scaffold stood by the courthouse side,
Only as wide as the door was wide;
A frame as tall, or little more,
Than the capping sill of the courthouse door.
And we wondered, whenever we had the time,
Who the criminal, what the crime
That the Hangman judged with the yellow twist
of knotted hemp in his busy fist.
And innocent though we were, with dread,
We passed those eyes of buckshot lead --
Till one cried: "Hangman, who is he
For whom you raised the gallows-tree?"
Then a twinkle grew in the buckshot eye,
And he gave us a riddle instead of reply:
"He who serves me best," said he,
"Shall earn the rope of the gallows-tree."
And he stepped down, and laid his hand
On a man who came from another land.
And we breathed again, for another's grief
At the Hangman's hand was our relief
And the gallows-frame on the courthouse lawn
By tomorrow's sun would be struck and gone.
So we gave him way, and no one spoke,
Out of respect for his Hangman's cloak.
The next day's sun looked mildly down
On roof and street in our quiet town,
And stark and black in the morning air
Was the gallows-tree in the courthouse square.
And the Hangman stood at his usual stand
With the yellow hemp in his busy hand;
With his buckshot eye and his jaw like a pike
And his air so knowing and business-like.
And we cried, "Hangman, have you not done
Yesterday, with the foreign one?"
Then we fell silent, and stood amazed,
"Oh, not for him was the gallows raised."
He laughed a laugh as he looked at us:
"Did you think I'd gone to all this fuss
To hang one man? That's a thing I do
To stretch a rope when the rope is new."
Then one cried "Murder!" and one cried "Shame!"
And into our midst the Hangman came
To that man's place. "Do you hold," said he,
"with him that was meant for the gallows-tree?"
And he laid his hand on that one's arm.
And we shrank back in quick alarm!
And we gave him way, and no one spoke
Out of fear of his Hangman's cloak.
That night we saw with dread surprise
The Hangman's scaffold had grown in size.
Fed by the blood beneath the chute,
The gallows-tree had taken root;
Now as wide, or a little more,
Than the steps that led to the courthouse door,
As tall as the writing, or nearly as tall,
Halfway up on the courthouse wall.
The third he took -- we had all heard tell --
Was a usurer, and an infidel.
"What," said the Hangman "have you to do
With the gallows-bound, and he a Jew?"
And we cried out, "Is this one he
Who has served you well and faithfully?"
The Hangman smiled: "It's a clever scheme
to try the strength of the gallows-beam."
The fourth man's dark, accusing song
Had scratched our comfort hard and long;
"And what concern," he gave us back.
"Have you for the doomed -- the doomed and Black?"
The fifth. The sixth. And we cried again,
"Hangman, Hangman, is this the man?"
"It's a trick," he said. "that we hangmen know
For easing the trap when the trap springs slow."
And so we ceased, and asked no more,
As the Hangman tallied his bloody score.
And sun by sun, and night by night,
The gallows grew to monstrous height.
The wings of the scaffold opened wide
Till they covered the square from side to side;
And the monster cross-beam, looking down,
Cast its shadow across the town.
Then through the town the Hangman came,
Through the empty streets, and called my name --
And I looked at the gallows soaring tall,
And thought, "There is no one left at all
For hanging, and so he calls to me
To help pull down the gallows-tree."
So I went out with right good hope
To the Hangman's tree and the Hangman's rope.
He smiled at me as I came down
To the courthouse square through the silent town.
And supple and stretched in his busy hand
Was the yellow twist of the hempen strand.
And he whistled his tune as he tried the trap,
And it sprang down with a ready snap --
And then with a smile of awful command
He laid his hand upon my hand.
"You tricked me. Hangman!," I shouted then,
"That your scaffold was built for other men...
And I no henchman of yours," I cried,
"You lied to me, Hangman. Foully lied!"
Then a twinkle grew in the buckshot eye,
"Lied to you? Tricked you?" he said. "Not I.
For I answered straight and I told you true --
The scaffold was raised for none but you.
For who has served me more faithfully
Then you with your coward's hope?" said he,
"And where are the others who might have stood
Side by your side in the common good?"
"Dead," I whispered. And amiably
"Murdered," the Hangman corrected me:
"First the foreigner, then the Jew...
I did no more than you let me do."
Beneath the beam that blocked the sky
None had stood so alone as I.
The Hangman noosed me, and no voice there
Cried "Stop!" for me in the empty square.

Maurice Ogden

Thursday 7 May 2009

Lies, damned lies and anything a politician says.

See those goal posts? See 'em? Got their exact location fixed in your mind? Good, now that's sorted we'll move them somewhere more convenient.

Jacqui Smith was facing new sleaze claims last night over her constituency home.

The property on which she has claimed thousands of pounds in second homes allowance is actually her primary residence for tax purposes, it was revealed.

Actually this really doesn't come as a shock, which speaks volumes about my view of politicians in general, and money grubbing, self serving, nest feathering, scheming bastards in particular.

The Home Secretary has pocketed £84,000 of taxpayers' money on the home she shares with her husband, Richard Timney, and their two children in Redditch, her West Midlands constituency.

That was only possible because she persuaded the House of Commons authorities that her main home is actually her sister's spare bedroom in London, where she lodges during the week.

But after a freedom of information request, Redditch council has confirmed that Miss Smith pays council
tax as if the £300,000 constituency house was her main home.

So her main residence is her sister's place for the purposes of being ~~a thieving cow~~ an MP and her house in Redditch is a second home. But as far as paying council tax in Redditch is concerned it's the other way round.

According to Miss Smith's expenses claims, her husband was the only adult who lived there full time. But the couple have not claimed the discount at any time since they moved into their current home in May 2004.

In a statement, Redditch Borough Council said: 'Jacqui Smith has not benefited from a "second home" council tax discount. The charge has been calculated on the basis of there being two adult residents in the property.' ...

One reason why Miss Smith might have wanted to avoid claiming the second homes council tax discount is that by admitting to the tax man that it was a second residence she would be liable for capital gains tax if the property is sold.

Another possible reason could be that it might be blatantly fucking obvious to anyone from the council using RIPA to check up on council tax cheats that the place is really occupied by two adults rather than one, and since Jacqboot is the Home Secretary presumably she's got a rough idea how often that happens. It's just a thought.

The question now is what happens next. The Wail reported that she's going to be the subject of an inquiry by the sleaze watchdog, but despite the fact that she's clearly trying to have it both ways - her main home being simultaneously the porn palace with the nice sink in Redditch and her sister's place in London depending on who's asking and why - I expect she'll get away with it. Maybe she'll be forced to resign her job as Home Sec, which she's almost certain to lose in barely a year anyway (perhaps with her seat as well, who knows?), but repay the money? Sorry, just don't see it happening. I imagine it'll be found to be within a strict and technical interpretation of the rules, and of course there's every chance that by then so much shit will be hitting the expenses fan that Jacqboot will have been forgotten.

Worried MPs are fighting a 'rearguard action' to try to delay the release of details about their taxpayer-funded expenses.

Anxiety about what their multi-million pound claims will reveal have spurred some MPs to attempt to delay publication of their receipts beyond July, it was claimed last night....

Another source said Labour whips - responsible for party discipline - were understood to be ' trying to run a rearguard action to delay publication'.

Last week, it was claimed that at least three Labour MPs were terrified that release of their expenses claims will expose them as adulterers and financial cheats.

Fuck delaying it even more. This has been on the cards long enough that they've had ample time to get their shit together, and they still want more time to hide their abuses and dream up lies and excuses for the excesses that are about to be revealed. No, fuck 'em. Publish now. Bastards.

Edit: I've changed my mind about making them publish now. I kind of like the way The Telegraph are slowly turning the screw.