The anti crapitalist

Madness is decending upon me....

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Hey buddy lend me a crime

Been drinking again today and debating the pointlessness of the debt and credit companies has prompted me to pick a new target for my time wasting activities.

Loan and credit companies

These businesses are truly evil … don‘t you think? And from their advertisements they clearly set out to target people who are … well … complete fucking idiots really.

As I said I have been at home drunk for a week or so and there have been two TV adverts (amongst many) that have grabbed my attention. Both businesses seem to be absolutely ideal for my purposes.

Obviously only the names have been changed to protect the guilty.

Anyway …

Daytime TV is generally pitched at students, lonely housewives, and people on social security and this seems to be why that shit-fest of mediocrity that is “This Morning” is punctuated with adverts aimed at fuckwitts that seem to have exhausted every existing line of credit and yet still need to be so comprehensively, massively and hopelessly in need of more credit that they will try anything (ie. pick up the phone) to get even more.

The adverts are great.

I love the one in which the husband and wife - note its always the wife who has the good idea to call “” or some other service aimed at the criminally inept - sit there and throw their hands up in the air in desperation and cry “We’ve got more going out than we have coming in” before realising that the answer to their catastrophic debt problems is … well … another loan from a lender even less choosy than the original one (were that indeed possible).

Now call me old fashioned but when did it get to be a good business model to actually WANT as your customers people are so fucking clueless that they cannot pay off the debts that they have let alone buy food [actually its probably about 5 years ago to be precise]. In my day banks were clambering over themselves to tell these people to “fuck off” as part of their credit-risk function before you lost your shirt on them. But today these are the new white-knights of the credit industry - so badly in debt that they will do anything, sign anything, pledge anything to get out.

That’s the first ad.

I also like the other one with the childlike guy who likes talking to his loan company because they speak “his language” (ie. football, beer and probably pies looking at the fat moon-faced twat) whilst ignoring the fact that these people pretending to speak his language won’t be when they are repossessing his house and forcing his wife into street prostitution when he misses the next payment.

“Sorry, mate. Really sorry but its our house now so why don’t you fuck off down the pub. Your missus can stay here for a bit though coz she‘s promised to give me a blowjob for twenty-quid. She’ll need a strong drink afterwards. Cheers mate. By the way didn‘t Arsenal do well on Saturday. Fucking brilliant!”

The point to all of this rambling ...

Before we proceed to the next level lets strip back the illusion and cut to the chase … this is all about getting other peoples houses on the cheap when they can’t pay you back. If the UK property boom had not meant that these hapless yet well meaning people were not sitting on millions upon millions of unrealised assets they would still be being told to “Fuck off” by everyone. This is not a social service for the confused and inept, its an asset grab on the dim witted who have made a few quid by living in their houses for the last couple of years.

Anyway … the point of this bullshit

These businesses actually advertise the fact that they want (prefer?) total fucking morons for clients, so I drunkenly thought that this was sort of a challenge really. But these people are indiscriminate, so how vulnerable to you have to be to a good loan proposition.

Well over the next week lets just see.

Friday, February 17, 2006

Nihilism and the anticrapitalist mandate.

People are asking me why I like to waste peoples time in pointless [and yet hopefully amusing] ways rather than to use my energy constructively?

Well Hunter S Thompson provided the ultimate definition of what democracy is in just eight simple words:

“Politics is the art of controlling your environment,”

Ain’t that true. Make them believe that they have a democracy and miraculously that’s just what they get. And when that happens it leaves you free to just about anything you want, without either reproach or scrutiny.

In the modern world, fed by big corporations and 24-hour digital media it could equally be extended to the phrase “Wealth, success and survival in the 21st Century is the art of controlling everyone else’s environment”

My point?

There is more money circulating on this planet now than at any time in history, technology is all pervading, the media is said to be largely free, and state control is said to be more relaxed than at any previous point in time. So why aren’t we any more free? Indeed why are our lives now more controlled, more modelled, and more contrived than at any time in history?

Because between the top layer of our society - the George W Bush’s, Dick Cheney’s, and Tony Blair’s of this world; the people and the agencies now pursuing their warped grandiose objectives, creating the big money, acting virtually unfettered and safe in the knowledge that we understand so little about democracy that they are safe - there is a middle layer made up of millions upon millions of taxpayer funded arseholes running on pointless agencies, functions, and services to delude us into thinking we are empowered.

Tens of thousands of councils, and authorities; huge government bodies, and even bigger national and supranational organisations all providing the smokescreen of democratic empowerment.

Protest about the war in Iraq and the Government will pat you on the head and listen to you sympathetically as it is your “democratic right“ - but park your car in a red zone, refuse to pay your taxes, or even smoke in the wrong place and you will be arrested and charged. These small rules with big penalties are there merely to put you off transgressing the big ones like asking who is running what, and why are these people not accountable to whoever voted them in.

And all these agencies need is your tax money to control you … and if you don’t give that willingly then they have the power to take you out of society so you can‘t vote.

Anyway ….

My point is that nihilism is a coping strategy because if you let this army of ill-intentioned freeloaders affect your life … they will. If you let them believe that they have control over you … then they have. If you let them feed off you … then they will.

The mantra should be:

“Empowerment is the art of controlling your environment,”

For more bullshit visit:

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Inventive ways to waste other peoples time.

Since Christmas - festival of shit - I have decided to spend a considerable amount of my waking time drunk. I like being pissed because it makes me numb to the shit that surrounds me. I feel insulated from the crap that clutters my existence. Immune from the bullshit that is now so common place in everyday life that I don’t even notice it anymore. I’m a happy drunk. Being pissed stops me from punching people that live in a separate reality to me, it stops me strangling arseholes, it keeps me sane.

Don’t you fucking hate double glazing salesmen?

If society has a bottom rung then that is it, selling fucking windows to morons who seem to be genetically programmed to say “Yes, I’m a total fucking idiot. Please come around to my house and waste 10 hours of my time before getting me to give you twelve grand for windows knocked up by armies of Albanian’s in Morecambe for 50p each”.

Sell windows. I’d rather sell my arse ……


Pissed at home and some bastard calls me out of the blue about fucking UPVC windows; Am I interested.

Frankly no ….

UPVC windows hold no interest to me at all. I know nothing about them. I want to know nothing about them. I want to know nobody who knows anything about them. I don’t care.

However …. half a bottle of Shiraz seemed to have implanted me with some sort of empathy with a guy who falls into the latter category. He knew a lot about UPVC windows. And I mean a lot!

Was I worried about rising electricity prices; well yes!

Was I worried about burglaries in my area; well yes!

Did my windows need painting; well yes!

Did I want to save on my heating; well yes!

Was I in tomorrow morning; well yes! (fuck! That was the empathy kicking in)


To cut a long story short after I had got a bit too carried away I could not back out. But I had a whole evening to get the bastard back!

Next morning got up and picked out the gayest clothes I could find. Purple roll-neck jumper, beige chinos, suede shoes.

Had breakfast. Opened a nice bottle of Chardonnay I had in the fridge.

Eleven thirty comes. Bit pissed.

See some shitty white Vauxhall Astra park on my drive. Guy in a Top Shop suit gets out with a clipboard under his arm. Looks like a bouncer who takes on a slightly less aggressive role in daylight hours.

As he came down the drive I went to the kitchen and poured half a glass of water into my crotch and watched as a big pseudo piss-stain took hold. That will do nicely.

“Bing, bong”

Answer the door with a flushed expression on my face, rubbing piss-stain and talking in very effected pseudo gay accent.

“Ohhhh. Hi. Do come in Gary, I’ve been dying to meet you”

They say first impressions last, and an overly affected pissed bloke in a purple jumper and recently piss-stained trousers seemed to do it for him.

I shut the door firmly behind him.

And so went two and a half hours of his life. Have you ever seen the “Uncle Monty” figure in Withnail & I. That’s what he got.

I could see that he looked uncomfortable from the off, and as matters progressed I could see him anxiously looking towards the door. Particularly when I tittered and touched his knee when he asked me (stupidly) if I ever got a draft through my back entrance as it seemed to be in a poor state of repair (Oh! Too right Gary!)

I offered him a glass of wine and in the end he had to accept. I feigned interest in the interest free credit deal and offered him another. It was a male bonding point. We were both about to sign a contract so lets have another manly drink, like men do!

He accepted.

In the end I ran out of ideas. Backed out of the deal and in desperation to get rid of him made a clumsy drunken pass at him.

He left in a hurry.

As he reversed off my drive I called the police and gave them the number of that shitty white Astra - the one with “Fat wanker windows“ written on the side you can‘t miss it. If they found him he would have been borderline on a breath-test. I hope he passed.

Here endeth the lesson Gary. Don’t waste my fucking time; and I won’t waste yours.

I have many inventive ways of wasting other peoples time.