Monday, January 30, 2006

Rescued from misery by NuLabour

A weekend of over-indulgence in alcohol and some extraordinarily pure MDMA had almost brought your humble Devil back to his old self (despite going all-in at last night's poker game, with a pair of Jacks and pair of Aces, and being beaten by a pissy little triple six), but not quite. Which is why I must thank Tony Blair and his Merry Men for completing the process by utterly enraging me this morning.

Still, you might think from the title of this post that I am being a little melodramatic: fear not, I am not that self-indulgent: I have not been rescued from misery by NuLabour. Oh, no; I refer, of course, to all the little kitty-cats and doggie-wogs who are being routinely beaten to a pulp and starved of mental stimulation by their evil owners.
CATS, dogs and other family pets are to have five statutory “freedoms” enshrined in law — and owners who flout the regulations could face jail or a fine of up to £5,000 after a visit from the “pet police”.

What the fuck?
The Times has learnt that Margaret Beckett, the Environment Secretary, is to produce detailed codes of conduct telling pet owners how to feed their animals and where they should go to the toilet, along with ways of providing “mental stimulation”. Owners of “sociable” pets should provide them with playmates, the codes will say.

I see, this will be the same Margaret Becket whose department presided over the illegal culling of millions of healthy animals during the foot and mouth epidemic, would it? The one who realised that it was illegal and slipped a retrospective law through parliament in order to protect the government employees who were reported to have bashed in the heads of piglets with shovels and other blunt objects, would it? To protect those animal "welfare" officers who, illegally, ordered the killing of animals who had not come into contact with the virus?
The Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs will inform the owners of Britain’s ten million cats, eight million dogs and one million rabbits of their new obligations in a series of pamphlets distributed to vets, pet shops, kennels and over the internet.

I see, and how much is this going to cost? Look, you silly bitch, the country's skint as it is; can't you just do us all a favour and FUCK OFF AND DIE, YOU TROUT-FACED OLD HARRIDAN.
The five freedoms laid down by the Animal Welfare Bill are: appropriate diet, suitable living conditions, companionship or solitude as appropriate, monitoring for abnormal behaviour and protection from pain, suffering, injury and disease. The law will be enforced by “pet police”; council employees with powers to enter property and seize animals.

This is a significant shift from the present situation, where prosecutors have to prove a domestic animal is being mistreated.

As to what now? Random searches? And if Fido's ears are a bit droopy, then it's into a government kennel for him? If that's anything like the government care-homes for children, Fido will be addicted to heroin and being regularly buggered by a Great Dane (and the people running the home) before he can bark "knife".

And we get a whole new swathe of jobsworths who have to justify their existence by exercising their petty powers by snooping through our letterboxes, filling in more forms and retiring at 38, on a full pension, suffering from "stress". What a bunch of seedy, little cunts.
The Bill, which has crossparty support and is expected to return to the floor of the Commons in March, also bans the docking of dogs’ tails and pets being won as prizes by anyone aged under 16.

OK, can anyone tell me a practical reason why we dock dog's tails? Right, here is one: dogs wag their tails a lot. When the tails get banged against things, it ends up getting damaged and split. This becomes increasingly painful, and often results in surgery. It's not purely an aethetic thing, OK? Jesus.
The Bill applies to all vertebrates, but a code of conduct for invertebrates, such as lobsters, may follow.

Fuck me, it's happened. They have actually lost their tiny, fucking minds. Oh, and, by the way, there'll be no more lobster on the menu (animal loons have long protested about the boiling of lobsters, citing their "screaming". The fact that lobsters have no vocal chords seems to pass by these dreadful, crusty hippie tossers, but there we are).

And, you see, it is the hippie tree-hugging fuckwits that this Bill is intended to appease. Massive amounts of money given to, for instance, the RSPCA no longer goes to helping to animals: it goes to lobbying politicians for exactly this kind of interference. The big charities must be smashed, for it is they, as much as the pusillanimous NuLabour loons that are driving this intrusive legislation.

If you think that this is ludicrous and just plain fucking wrong, then stop giving to charity, or at least to the big ones. Think that banning smacking is wrong and a stupid, unworkable policy? Stop giving money to the RSPCC. Think that this Bill is appallingly stupid? Stop giving money to the RSPCA, the Pet Care Trust, or any of those other bunny-buggers.

What is so egregious about this piece of shit is, as per usual, that there are laws covering the abuse of animals already. In that way, it is exactly the same as the moves to ban the smacking of children; there are already laws against abuse, it's just that they are not enforced.

As for the government, they are desperately attempting to curry favour with any lobby that will still associate with them—other than the terminally ignorant people in places that would vote Labour even if a ministry official came and culled their wife and family with a fucking spade—they are clutching at straws; anything will do. Keep the rate of change up and ignore the fact that none of the legislation that they have already introduced works, nor has it been followed up successfully (sorry, remind me again what's happening with the Lords). I think that Mr Eugenides sums it up best:
Dear God, why won't you just fuck off?

Quite. Fuck off and drown yourselves in a bucket of pigshit, you fuck-witted baboon-buggering bastard sons of camel-shit eaters. I fucking hate you, and I'm going to eat your children to ensure that your genes never pollute this world again...

UPDATE: The Longrider points out that not only is this a fucking criminally stupid idea, dreamt up by a bunch of fascist cunts, but that some of the advice therein contained is just plain wrong. We are ruled by fucktards. Can we stone them to death now?


Anonymous said...

I suggest burying them alive in my cats' sandpit. You do know what cats use sand for, don't you?

Devil's Kitchen said...

Hmmm, I'm guessing that they don't use them to build sandcastles...


Anonymous said...

Well, it does involve digging...

Katy Newton said...

I wholeheartedly support a code of conduct for invertebrates. It is time those little submarine bastards knuckled under and learned that they too are subject to the law, even if they do wear their skeletons on the outside.

Anonymous said...

"...the terminally ignorant people in places that would vote Labour even if a ministry official came and culled their wife and family with a fucking spade..."

Why do you have to keep bringing Neil into it?

Fidothedog said...

They have gone mad the lot of them. Looneys utter fucking looneys.

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