I was in the middle of writing something completely different when I was struck by a niggling bastard of a thought that just wouldn’t stop. When this happens I internally refer to it as a fucknut – it’s like a little irritating peanut that pings around my bonce that makes me clench my fists and grind my teeth. For a change, today’s incessant little fucknut has an actual name. It’s UKIP.
We all know that the UK Independence Party are mental. Like the continued existence of Lambrini (7.5%? Seriously, what IS the point?) and those shiny plastic chopsticks that have no grip it’s just something we have learnt to live with. One fairly decent thing about politics is that usually everyone is a mere one cock-up away from a scandal that can have them canned. But for UKIP, public outrage is simply an inconvenience. To them, it just serves as evidence that they are standing firm in a country that is falling apart around them.
It’s their definition of ‘falling apart’ that that sends the fucknut screaming around my skull like a bluebottle on amphetamines. Their positioning as a party with the best interests of the UK at heart, based on THEIR traditional moral values is bullshit. To demonstrate how repugnant UKIP is, you don’t even have to look into their unsavoury approach to immigration or their position on gay marriage. You just need to take a look at their attitude towards the 50% of UK voters that they dismiss, ignore, insult and patronise. The chauvinistic spoutings on a subject that is the elephant in UKIP’s Saloon Bar: Women.
UKIPLand smells of meat pies, Rothmans and real ale. In UKIPLand, Men are Men in a very 1970s sitcom sense. They smoke tabs and drink pints. They expect their dinner on the table. We little ladies stay very firmly hidden at home where we contribute to the UK by helpfully offering up our vaginas in order to populate this green and pleasant land with nice, straight white lads who love their mums Sunday roasts and go for a lunchtime pint with their dads. It’s a picture of complete and total irrelevance to the vast majority of the UK today. We don’t live in a fucking Hovis advert.
But it’s not enough that these self-styled protectors of Traditional Britain dictate our gender roles for us over a pint of old Fursty Ferret (4.4%) and a fag in the Bull and Spectacles. These men want more. They want control over how women conduct themselves in a very complete sense. Some want us out of the workplace and others want us to wear nice frocks (the same man who feels that single mothers deserve ‘a good slap’, I might add). They want maternity pay to be discretionary, saying that “you’d be a lunatic to hire a woman of child bearing age” and apparently women aren’t really keen on working anyway.
I beg to fucking differ, you bunch of insular, narrow-minded prematurely wrinkled, backslapping, bravado fuelled warts on the arse of humanity. Under normal circumstances I’d crack out the C Word, but my GOD, these prodigiously stupid men aren’t deserving of such an awesome and uniquely feminine insult. I am proud to be one of a line of hard-working women. Raised by a single mother in the arms of our extended family where the women drove everything and were never relegated to the back seat. I am privileged enough to know literally dozens of working women – some with children, some not. Some with partners, some not. All talented, industrious, shit-frighteningly intelligent and spitting with fury that these singularly selfish individuals are disrespecting them and their considerable contribution to this country. Its clear that these men are all of an age where they can no longer be of a unique disappointment to their mothers…the women who wiped their arses, cleaned their noses and told them that they were the most important person in the whole world. Because we women know that children need to believe they are the centre of the universe. Unfortunately, unlike the rest of us, Farage and his Happy Gang of Blissfully Unaware Pillocks never worked out that their mummies were just being kind.