'Stop and Search' Policy; How to cause Ben's bad behaviour!

Ben and his brother Willy are larking around in the lounge. Their Mum's favourite vase gets a direct hit and is smashed to smithereens. Mum hears the crash and comes flying in from the kitchen. "How d'ya manage to do that", she yells, grabbing hold of Ben. "Why pick on me and not Willy?", cries Ben. "Because it usually is you", returns Mum. She is right; it usually is Ben - But could her attitude be contributing to Ben's persistent bad behaviour? Is she part of the problem? After all, if she always assumes that Ben is at fault, then Ben has little incentive to be 'a good boy'. He can't win.

In London, black/Asian youths are six times as likely to be 'Stopped and Searched' (SAS) by the Police as their white counterparts. Remember that the Police do not need justifiable suspicion to SAS; if they just don't like the look of you, they can employ SAS. The, apparently reasonable, explanation offered by the Authorities and in the popular media is that this simply reflects statistical experience of the distribution of crime - A greater proportion of criminality is generated by black/ Asian youths. The Police are simply deploying their resources to where the problem seems to reside. Just like with Mum and her two lads, this sounds reasonable at first glance. But, as with Mum and the lads, could the policy be part of the problem? I suggest that it probably is!

There is no doubt at all that black/ Asian youths are alienated by this skewed SAS policy and many perfectly law-abiding lads complain bitterly of being repeatedly subjected to random and unjustified searches. Additionally, although attitudes have improved over time, racist bigotry is still alive and well in our society and non-whites do not always enjoy equal treatment with their white brothers - Either in everyday life or in the workplace. So why should we expect Ben to improve has behaviour when we don't treat him as an equal and always assume that he is probably the culprit when an offence is committed?

Give him a chance. Get rid of your racist attitudes. Show him equal treatment with his brother. In time, Ben may surprise you.

I'M A HUJU!!!

Yes, I'm excited. I was born to Jewish parents but have never been interested in the religion. However, I have always loved the culture; humour, food, Yiddish, philosophy, history. I've been a Humanist for several years now and, very recently, I have discovered the Hujus! That is to say a group of people interested in Humanistic Judaism. The culture without the religious claptrap. This is precisely my own position so ------------- I'm a HuJu!

They are quite organised in parts of the US but the movement is in its infancy in the UK. Perhaps infancy overstates its state of development; it is more accurately described as a foetus in the UK. Anyway, I met the group (7 of us) last evening for a Hanukkah dinner and we agreed to meet up again in the new year. I'm looking forward to it.

Who Bungled the Shoesmith Sacking?

We need to remember that the Court of Appeal judges have simply found that Ms Shoesmith was 'unfairly dismissed'. Their ruling was silent with regard to the severely critical Ofsted report that led to the decision to sack Ms Shoesmith. That report's criticisms of  Haringey's Children's Services Department, headed by Ms Shoesmith, and her responsibility for the systematic deficiencies of that Department stand unaffected by this finding of the Court of Appeal. It may well have been proportionate for her to lose her job in the light of the damning Ofsted report.

The spotlight should now fall on those responsible  for the flawed procedures that were followed in actioning her dismissal. It would appear that those that did the bungling have caused the costly and unpleasant spectacle we have recently witnessed and the estimated £2-3 million compensation that their incompetent actions will probably cost the public purse. Their jobs should be on the line.

DISCOVERY - an autobiographical note on my earliest sexual experiences

We were eight and taking a break from a vigorous game of conkers in the school playground. Freddie was one of my best buddies and, without warning, he came out with a startling revelation: “Y’know Johnny, babies come from a lady’s tummy when a man and a lady have a do” --  (Interesting that children will often pair the word ‘man’ with ‘lady’ rather than ‘woman’) --  I already knew where babies came from. My mother had helpfully left a small illustrated booklet on the subject in the sideboard in which, she knew, I was inclined to rummage from time to time. However my knowledge didn’t extend to the causal precursors to such an event. “What’s a do?”, I enquired of Freddie “Don’t ya even know that?”, said my companion with emphatic incredulity. “No”, I replied, with due humility. “It’s when the man puts his willy into the lady’s”, explained the fair-headed Freddie, his face turning crimson. “Oh”, I said. “Do ya have to wee into the lady?”, I enquired with real concern.  “S’pose so”, said Freddie, with a shrug. “I’m not doin’ that!” I exploded.

I reflected on my conversation with Freddie as I sat on the lavatory later that day.  My feelings about growing up and disgust at what I would be expected to do were joined by wonder as I inspected the flaccid piece of flesh dangling between my legs. How the bloody heck could that get into a lady? Thus it was that my sexual education, together with a degree of concomitant psychological angst, began. My awareness of sexual mechanics was to stay at this level for six more years.

The time for further enlightenment came. I was standing around with Ivor and Norman in the concourse area that lay between the council blocks our families had been sent to after WW2. This area served as a convenient playground for us cockney kids. Now, fifty-odd years later, it serves as a car-park, of course. My friends were both one year older than me. We had been playing cricket. “How many times did you do it last night, Ive?”, said Norman to Ivor, twiddling a cricket bail in his hand as he spoke. “ Dunno Norm, I  f****n’ lost count”, said Ivor laughing. “Do what?” I asked. My friends convulsed in fits of laughter. “No”, I objected, “What are you on about?”. “Tossin’ off”, explained Norman fighting to speak through loud bouts of shared laughter. “What’s tossin’ off?”, I asked, with mounting exasperation and  embarrassment. My question caused even greater hilarity to be expressed. Eventually, taking pity on my state of confusion, Norman eventually explained. “You get it in your hand like this”, he said, using the bail in his right hand to demonstrate. “Then you just do this”. He moved his hand back and forth over the bail using a motion that was to become more familiar to me in the years that followed. I realised what the bail represented but was bemused as to the possible purpose of such an action. “So, what good does that do?”, said I, rhetorically. This last question, and the manner in which it was said, set off an even louder explosion of amusement between Norm and Ive. I made a mental note to try the mysterious procedure later on, and opined aloud that we should continue our game of cricket.

Time: later that same evening. Scene: the aforementioned privy. I sat on the very same lavatory-seat on which I had been perched six years earlier when I wondered about the ability of one very soft object to penetrate another. The only difference was the colour of the wooden seat. My mother had this strange habit of painting that object regularly every year. Of course, the frequency with which the seat was pressed, quite literally, into use, meant that it invariably got sat on while the paint was still wet. This resulted in tell-tale striped buttocks for all who sat thereupon and a shiny painted loo-seat that always sported a familiar chevron-like pattern at the front.  So I sat and started to follow Norm’s instructions. This is pretty stupid, I thought; my so called friends were pulling my p****r. No, I was. I smiled to myself. But wait, something was happening. It was growing bigger and feeling a little firmer. It felt nice. It was all purely mechanical; sexual fantasizing was to come later. Now it was considerably bigger, harder and standing to attention. Suddenly, it happened; a strange pumping feeling below my scrotum and the experience of a wave of magical and intense pleasure. Bloody hell, I thought, what the hell was that! I know; I must ‘ave tossed off!!

I never did tell Ive and Norm about my success. I wanted to; but embarrassment trumped my desire to ‘join the club’.  

The Curse that is Ruthlessness

Many animals, typically the males of the species, sham-fight. Well known examples are deer and seals. Only if absolutely necessary do they actually engage in combat; usually for territory or access to females. The sham posturing is usually sufficient to establish who the victor would be if push came to shove and even bite. The objective is thus achieved without risking grievous injury to either party.

Boys in the school playground exhibit the same behaviour. It begins with shoulder-barging accompanied by cries and answering cries of  "Ye?"  ( pronounced as 'yes' but without the 's' sound) from the protagonists. If neither calls off the engagement at this stage, it tends to move on to blows to the arms and body. Only if this doesn't result in a capitulation, does it become a real playground fight inside a human ring formed by the other children. Admittedly the school-fight protocol that I have described might be somewhat outdated. My direct experience of this corner of human behaviour harks back to the 1950s. It is eminently possible that bollock-blows, eye gouging and knives are concepts relevant to the contemporary version.

But I suggest that the top fighter in the school , and the one most feared by all, isn't necessarily the biggest boy, the strongest boy or the best fighter No.It is the boy that ignores the fighting protocol and starts proceedings with a kick to the goolies or a similarly ruthless piece of aggression. You may remember that such tactics have been accurately portrayed by Joe Pesci is several of his screen roles. The key word here is 'ruthless' and many bastard, autocratic dictators have adopted the same strategy to achieve and maintain their political power.

Just as sham-fights tend to be a male behaviour, so does ruthlessness. If a country can't achieve democracy, I suggest that the selection of a female leader be encouraged. Fewer bastards and a smoother transition to democracy is likely to be the outcome.

AV: VOTING 'YES' IS DANGEROUS

I am a natural liberal; a live-and-let-live sort of person. Our capitalist economy needs to be regulated; society must look after those in need; foreign policy should be 'ethical' and the role of Government is to ensure we are protected and to pursue policies that will make us a happier, more contented, society. With regard to the AV Referendum, my natural inclination has been that " Any movement towards PR is a to be welcomed . Election results will be a more accurate reflection of the will of the electorate "

But, think on sunshine! Be very careful what you wish for. Do we want to have a true reflection of " The will of the people " ?  The people wouldn't have supported the recent, UN-backed, action in Libya. The people would want to restore capital punishment and 'throw-away-the-key' prison sentences. The people would string up suspected paedophiles by the goolies. The people's immigration policy would have decimated the NHS. Very right-wing, misguided and dangerous. The leader-writers of the gutter-press would be running the country.

The man-in-the-street agrees with, but doesn't vote, BNP for two main reasons. Firstly, that party, and all right-of-centre parties, are tainted by the historic spectre of Fascism. Secondly, the first-past-the-post voting system makes it difficult to win and a vote for a minor party feels like a wasted vote. In my opinion, the BNP would get many 'second choice' votes if we move to AV making it much more likely that they would secure majorities when these votes are taken into account. Voting BNP second will become respectable and we would be in danger of a massive lurch to the right in the UK. In due course, the BNP could be part of a Coalition and eventually be the Government. You have been warned!

Gender Madness

So, the European Court of Justice has decreed that gender discrimination by companies offering car insurance, life assurance and life annuities will become unlawful at the end of next year. For example, a young female driver, everything else being equal, will have to be quoted the same premium as a young male driver. 'Ave a bloody word wiv y'self mate! On average, young men exhibit considerably more risk-taking behaviour than young women; with the result that they cause more death, injury and destruction on our roads. Their car insurance claims are therefore far higher than those made by young females. Quite rightly, they pay higher premiums and so say all of us! No?

I'm all for gender equality but there are considerable differences between the male and the female anatomy and psyche. Equality does not equal sameness. If we continue to insist on a gender-blind society, we will, for example, ignore the fact that the developmental profile of boys and girls is very different. This should be taken into account by the education system. Not to do so is currently courting problems and leading to educational failure.

A policy of complete gender-blindness means that the next ruling may make it mandatory to have only proper sit-down toilet-stalls in male lavatories; those porcelain walls are obviously not on since they discriminate against us men! Come on folks; finkabowdit!