So on Wednesday there was a protest at Parliament about the bill to ban fox hunting. Quite apart from the issue at hand, it has been disturbing to see how it was covered.
There has been a lot of comment about the protest. Ten to twenty thousand people were involved and it turned nasty, with some violence and blood flowing. Most importantly (in the eyes of the press) a bunch of protestors breached the House of Commons.
Luckily for all, these protestors were fundamentally decent citizens who have been treated appallingly and are sticking up for themselves. In fact, here are some fawning profiles of these brave citizens.
(Trust me, it was worse in the print media – loads of snazzy photos of handsome young men looking upstanding, with royals in shot if possible.)
Hmm. I seem to detect a slightly different flavour to the coverage of this protest than that accorded a certain other protest in recent memory. That one against the Iraq war?
It almost makes one suspect that, here in the UK, there are unresolved issues of class.
Day: September 17, 2004
Oh If I Were A Fiver And Sixpence
Oh, if I were a fiver and sixpence
I know just what I’d do
I’d spend and die for a bridie pie
And a custard square or two
(Yes a custard square or two)
Oh if I were a fiver and sixpence
I know just what I’d need
Hire a balladeer to sing everywhere
and be famed in word and deed
(Yes be famed in word and deed)
Oh if I were a fiver and sixpence
I know just what I’d try
I’d buy you out of your finest stout
And I’d drink the bottles dry
(Yes I’d drink the bottles dry)
Oh if I were a fiver and sixpence
I know just where I’d be
I’d face no fuss on a country bus
For I paid my way with me
(Yes I paid my way with me)
For a fiver and sixpence is me
—
No, I don’t know what I’m doing either.