It never fucking ends

Quite seriously, what the living fuck is wrong with this country? Why the cunting fuck do these politico shitbags think that they have any right to dictate what I do in my private life? And most importantly, what kind of stupid cunt thinks that micromanaging bar staff to the extent of telling them what the bloody hell they can say to a customer is in any way a productive thing to do—especially in the current climate?

FIRST smokers were told to stub it out. Then happy hours were deemed out of order. But now – in perhaps the greatest assault yet on Scotland's traditional pub culture – bar staff are being told to stop asking patrons if they'd like "the same again".
The move is the result of new licensing laws coming into force next Tuesday to clamp down on "irresponsible promotions".

In measures described last night as "arrant nonsense", some training companies preparing staff for the new laws have warned the traditional prompt may be deemed irresponsible.

Instead, bar staff are being advised it would be better simply to ask "what would you like?", or "what can I do for you?"

It is also understood that trainers are telling staff that if a drinker is looking for a refill, he should be given a glass of water.

A glass of fucking water? What the fuck? If I ask for a cunting refill, then I want another pint of sweet, sweet beer, you bastards. If anyone tries to give me a glass of fucking water as a refill, they would be given short shrift, frankly. I don't drink water, I have never drunk water and I don't intend to start drinking that crap now: the only use for water is for bulking out the alcohol into a decent drink.

Bars and restaurants are being warned that offers such as "buy two glasses of wine and get the rest of the bottle free" should not be displayed. They have also been warned that they should not offer free drinks to customers, perhaps because they have waited too long for a meal, it is understood.

I know that the phrase "nanny state" is seriously overused, but how else can one describe this kind of crap?—apart from, perhaps, using the phrase "interfering cuntery".

Licensees warned there was utter confusion about how the new laws should be interpreted when the 2005 Licensing Act comes into force on Tuesday, making it illegal for pubs to provide Happy Hours or offer buy-one-get-one-free offers. Bar staff all have to attend training programmes, teaching them about how to serve alcohol.

The mind fucking boggles, it really does.

Training firms appear to be providing wildly different interpretations of what constitutes an irresponsible promotion. The Act classes it as anything which "encourages, or seeks to encourage, a person to buy or consume a larger measure of alcohol than the person had otherwise intended to buy or consume".

Oh look, it's yet another badly drafted law that no one knows how to interpret. For fuck's sake, can we please get these bloody amateurs' hands off the fucking levers of legislation?

Every single law passed these days seems to be solely designed to make people's lives a little bit more miserable. And quite apart from that, they are incredibly patronising.

I can pretty much guarantee that your humble Devil's IQ is higher than any one of those cunts in Holyrood—so who the fuck are they to tell me what decisions I can make with my life?

In this regard, I think that the poor little Greek boy puts it admirably.

I'm well aware that we have long since passed the stage where this becomes repetitive, but really, my loathing for the nannying culture that is fast overtaking this land is infinite. Who do these dung-brained phalluses think they are to regulate the private conduct of law-abiding citizens? Is this what it's come to—the micromanagement of everyday life to such a degree that shopkeepers and publicans must speak to customers off index cards printed by the State? Fuck off and leave me alone.

Let's say it as plainly as possible; it is absolutely none of the government's fucking business how I am "prompted" to take another drink. My choice of whether to have a further pint or not is swayed by many factors; the time of day, my surroundings, my thirstiness, and the tastiness of the beverage that I have just consumed. My alcohol intake is not controlled by the form of words that a member of staff chooses to accost me with, however, because I am not a complete dribbling retard and can make decisions for myself. Fuck off and leave me alone.

Although, of course, in terms of pure economy of words, few can beat the Daily Mash's heroic effort:

"As an adult, I think a reasonable daily limit is me drinking as much as I fucking want.

"If it affects my work I'll get sacked. If it affects my relationships I'll be all lonely and sad.

"And as for my health, following a quick glance at my tax bill I've decided that the NHS will treat me and the government can keep its fucking opinions to itself."

Of course, the problem is that NHS bill: as your humble Devil has opined many, many times, the politicos' justification for interfering in our fucking lives is often that x behaviour costs the NHS y per annum. Now, your humble Devil is very happy to opt out of paying for the NHS and would happily do so—except that, by law, I cannot do so. As a result, every one of us is in hock to the state whether we want to be or not.

The state is the provider of a service: the National Health Service in this case. Because the state provides and "pays" (through taxes, of course) for this service, it has the power to dictate to the population.

Obesity costs money over and above a "normal" person's treatment. Even if the obese person has private medical insurance, they cannot opt out of the NHS because they are forced to contribute to the NHS through their NICs. And, in fact, because of various laws—an ambulance can only take you to a state A&E, all GPs are employed by the state—no one can opt out of the state-provided system entirely.

In this way, everyone is in debt to the state. And as long as everyone is in debt to the state, the state, fundamentally, has the right to tell the population how to behave. And this debt can never actually be discharged: you are in debt to—and thus subject to the whim of—the state from the moment that you are born until the moment that you die.

And, remember, there is no actual contract to sign (or not sign) so the government can—and does—keep on shifting the terms of this agreement as and when it likes.
...

As such, no one in this country owns their own body; no one in this country owns their own life. Everyone is effectively in hock to the state because you can never, ever opt out of state provision.

Now, unless I am allowed to opt out, might I suggest that you busybody politicos please fuck off and die? Allow me to stop participating in your ghastly social engineering, and get the fuck out of my life.

Just. Fuck. Right. Off.

UPDATE: there's some succinct analysis over at Dick Puddlecote's place...

As one bar owner succinctly put it:

"We have had all of our freedom taken away to try to run a bar, and provide a social and fun place."

All this, remember, in a drive to restrict the public to unit intakes pulled out of thin air, when we are all drinking less than ten years ago, and in the face of recent revelations that light drinkers/teetotallers are a cost burden on the NHS. And in an environment where only those over 18, which is usually the age at which we assume a person should be entitled to make their own decisions in life, are legally allowed to purchase the products on offer.

Anyone who lives in the Soviet republic of Jockland has my deepest sympathy. You are being led by psychotically puritan politicians who are so dense they could bend light.

Quite.