Alan Coleman

A few years ago I wrote about The sanitisation of war, how our media have come to depict warfare in general as not only just, but as a simple story of good against evil in the manner of a Commando comic.

On page 47 of today’s free Sport magazine, the Royal Air Force have taken out a full page Commando comic style advertisement for staff. It’s taken us a while to get to the point where this is an acceptable depiction of something quite terrifying, but I think we’ve been prepared gently and can now relax, safe in the knowledge that war is not only fun reading, but is also something to aspire to.

The advert features the handsome Flight Lieutenant Sean Langrish, an epitome of the well rounded young man, complete with steely determination and well rehearsed student sneer. (In another advert he’ll be seen relaxing over a few beers with an orange juice swigging colleague, however everyone knows that not drinking in the forces is tantramount to homosexuality).

The story is as follows. The lads on the ground in Helmand are cornered, brave Sean calls in some Laser Guided Bombs, he keeps his promise, the enemy is eliminated and he’s got 24 new bezzie mates. No really, that’s what happens! Then we’re ‘all good’! Fucking superb! If only I wasn’t so old!

There’s money to waste on misleading adverts though isn’t there? We know that because there’s cash to be spunked on teaching the country’s two most over privileged brothers to indulge in learning to be Search and Rescue pilots. The Palace must be getting wet thinking about that little number when it comes to fruition. All the tabloid glory, none of the risk, everyone’s a winner! Essentially, it’s this week’s hobby, a well deserved break from playing football with six year old African children with no legs, or from getting cunted in China Whites.

This is nothing new though, The RAF, like the military in general, has a history of outrageously misleading adverts bent on showing that in War, there’s something for everyone. Remember the ridiculous Cinema adverts of a few years ago that suggested that young people could progress from delivering pizzas on a moped to piloting a Harrier? Yes, that’s going to happen isn’t it?

No need to worry too much about it though, when the reality of the cartoon like battle against evil ends up with no arms to have a wank with, there’s always Help for Heroes.

Royal Air Force. Be part of the story.

The expression ‘British jobs for British workers’ is quite simply laughable. The biggest hole in the current argument involving contractors at the Lindsey Oil Refinery in North Lincolnshire is that they are not British jobs at all, in fact they are French. French jobs that have been won, fair and square, by an Italian contractor who has every right to employ whoever it wants. Being British does not entitle anyone to work or special treatment within the EU. Again, they are not ‘British Jobs’ and the locality of an employer in relation to ones abode carries with it no obligation. Moreover, the benefits of EU membership has been carrying our economy for years, which is why the comforting and mythical idea of the British job and the British worker is as laughable is it is ludicrous.

When Clement Attlee created the National Coal Board after the war, he did so with no real intention of creating British jobs. It was just assumed that the coal would continue to be mined by the same communities as it always had. So when Margret Thatcher’s Conservative government closed the coal mines in the early 80s, preferring instead to rely on a cheaper imported product, the communities that had done the work previously had a fair claim to a British job. This is where the double standards start to emerge, and it doesn’t take the brains of an English craftsmen to know who is behind it either.

So what we’re really talking about is British jobs for British workers, just as long as it’s economically viable and certain other considerations are taken into account. Oh, and it helps if the media are on your side. Which is why striking miners spent two whole years fighting the media and the Government for real British jobs, and the argument for non British jobs was settled in a week. Shameful.

And since when has the tabloid press been a supporter of the striking worker? The swap from ‘The enemy within’ to ‘The honest working lads’ has been an overnight sensation, literally. The Daily Mail supporting Trade Unionism, who would have thought it? Strange times indeed, or an alternative agenda at play? Given the press and their historical attitude towards industrial action, it’s a little difficult to reconcile the cosy relationship that has developed without pointing to a common denominator. Foreigners.

Amazingly, they do have trades in other countries. Maybe they don’t aspire to the same level of craftsmanship that built our proud empire, but they probably get by with enough skills to build everything the British do, but somehow far better. Further still, we don’t have a problem with foreign children making our trainers in sweatshops for practically nothing do we? The reason being that it suits the economics of our vanity and is somehow justified by being a luxury item. This where the ‘British jobs for British workers’ argument finally crashes and burns.

And please don’t try and tell me that this isn’t a race issue when the idiocy that is the BNP are using it as their latest nationalist soundbite, and they’re not racist are they? Nick Griffin says so. ‘British jobs for British workers’ is a logical progression from ‘Jobs for whites’, only slightly more politically correct. It’s a shame that the working lads couldn’t have made their voice heard without appealing to the current zeitgeist of nationalism in the same manner as the pro Israel lobby.

It’s just all to easy. The flag, the aggressive rhetorical questioning and blatant ugliness of misguided British superiority. Things are changing, and sitting around watching Jeremy Clarkson tell you otherwise only reinforces the underpinning concept of this entire argument. We’re just not the country we used to be.

I usually stop just outside Blackfriars to survey the days papers, a quick glance across the multicoloured collage of sex, hate and economic meltdown. As predictable as it is amusing, especially last week when I spotted a story about the Saindi family from Afghanistan who’d apparently been housed in a seven bedroom house in Ealing, West London. I don’t know what I found more amusing, the finger wagging fury or the comments Mrs Saindi made about the house being too big to clean, funny as!

It used to be Rock and Roll bands and young people that upset the Tory media, now the papers put their songs on the Sunday edition as a polite freebie. It’s says a lot about the awful state of music in this country when we have to rely on immigrants to upset the status quo.

The thought of Mrs Saindi showing journalists her new plasma screen doesn’t make me feel jealous or envious or even angry, as there’s always something more important to worry about than who’s getting what for free.

That said, when the papers started talking of scroungers and handouts at the weekend, I couldn’t help but think of how a family like the Windsor’s have managed to get away with what they have for so many years. Because when you look at it, the loan of a house and a Nintendo is fairly insignificant when compared to generations of favour, opulence and greed that we have afforded the Royal family. And the Royal family are immigrants after all.

It is they that are the real parasites, standing by with glum indifference as the media celebrate their obscenity, their foolish offspring, and their want. They can’t believe their luck, millions queuing up to cheer their mere existence as someone else bares the misguided anger of those same ignorant subjects.

You make your bed, you lie in it.

When I was younger I used to read small colorful comic books about war called, Commando. You can buy them concatenated as huge volumes in bigger bookshops. Gripping and predictable stories from all wars about fighting and destruction. I couldn’t get enough of it, the struggle between good and evil laid bare by Tommies with stubble pitted against skinny and monocled Jerry officers with leather gloves. Great stuff, honestly. Like with most things in life though I eventually grew out of it, I can’t remember when or why in particular but for some reason one day I was into reading Dick Francis.

I grew up, but as I look around me the real stories of our current wars still seem to take on the same Commando comic theme. Huge tabloid lettering laid onto pictures of ‘OUR BOYS’ in action. Enemy kill counts and detailed tales of bravery and valour, all complimented with big regimental cap badges and motto’s.

The very same simplicity that attracted me to stories of war in the first place is being used in the next generation to flog copy of tabloid rubbish to the masses. It’s an effective and fairly cynical tactic, although not new if one remembers the shameful coverage of the Falklands Conflict.

What bothers me most about this kind of sanitisation is the effect it’s had on how we’ve have come to view warfare. Not as a horrific and destructive waste of life and culture, but as a kind of triumphalist entertainment that leaves the reading itching for more excitement. Pictures of soldiers firing from the hip are great for paper sales, recruitment figures and flag waving, but behind the comic book stubble lies a terrifying pit of betrayal and damage for everyone involved.

We are simply kidding ourselves as adults in very much the same way that Commando Comic writers did as children. The idea that ‘OUR BOYS’ and ‘Harry the Homecoming Hero’ are somehow made of steel and will overcome evil with British grit and determination is ludicrous. Don’t get me wrong, I love the armed forces as much as the next bloke. But turning them into comic book heroes to hide the inconvenient reality of war will only exacerbate the disappointment of our eventual defeat. Worse still, it’ll make it easier for small religious men in suits to wage war with other peoples children.

It’s always been easy, conservatism.

Not much thought has ever been required to identify with its principles, policies or morality. The way that almost everything can be simplified into channels of right and wrong provides a tempting path for those wishing to easily convince themselves of their fortitude. There’s plenty of company too, family, friends and religion will almost certainly line up and acquiesce, because it’s easy to do so. Safety in numbers, mob culture and the comfort of knowing that if others agree with you, your opinions must be right.

The media also provides for a willing soundboard, often leading the thought process with an intoxicating channel of hysteria. Knee jerk reactions being the easiest headlines, fewer and bigger letters on the page. The ultimate business model, everyone’s a winner. Everyone.
This isn’t party politics I’m talking about here either, for Labour and the Tories each perpetrate their own sub brand of conservatism. As such, conservatism is often wrongly associated with the Conservative Party, twenty years ago this may have been a fair assumption, now it would display simple naivety. Labour or Tory, everyone’s a winner, the reoccurring theme.

The simple fact is when it comes to left wing politics, more thought and brain power is required to reconcile the morality of being a decent person. An example is why practically all comedians have left wing sympathies, that’s unless you’re Jim Davison or Bernard manning of course.