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Cameron: “We’re going on a bear hunt” (or something).

Monday 15th July was a big day of party games for Cameron and it all started with a fun trip to an airshow. Perhaps mindful of the long night of musical chairs that lay ahead of him, Dave limbered up by telling a few fairy tales.

Cameron visit to Williams F1 A “Storyteller” scaring kids recently.

 

The general theme of these was that it’s not the woods you want to watch out for but the failed states. The wolves, or bears, or bogey men are, however, real and because of the National Health Service (or because they want to kill us – I’m not sure which) they’re all sprinting towards Britain as fast as possible. So we must fight them. On the beaches. No, not on the beaches, on the cliffs. No, not on the cliffs. Definitely not the cliffs. Everyone knows that if you’re going to hunt bears you either go somewhere that has bears or you do the more obvious thing of taking a family outing from your front door, crossing an improbable assortment of terrain before freaking out, running home and hiding under the duvet.

None of this comes cheap. Which is why, over the last few years our benevolent leaders have been carefully closing libraries, sacking lollipop ladies and getting cancer-ridden shirkers back to work. Because bears, heffalumps etc. are pretty much impossible to see without really expensive American paranoia devices, Dave is tooling up. Once there’s a US style defence budget to justify, we’ll be seeing Gruffalos round every corner.

White-Cliffs-of-Dover-Kent-10No bears here

 

What Dave makes abundantly clear is that we’re not going to find any bears on the White Cliffs of Dover, or even in the Channel. But he won’t rest until he does find a bear (or other fictional archetype). And he’s not going to miss out on finding bears by being thrifty. Oh no.

War Games

I’ve got to be honest – I think if the Olympic security plans had been part of the original sales pitch for the London 2012 bid, I would have been a lot less enthusiastic. It would appear that hosting the Games puts Britain in a situation not seen since we momentarily pretended to help out Poland. Invasion is imminent, whether by hijacked jumbo or a clown holding onto lots of balloons or even a flotilla of wetsuit-clad Situationists. For the safety of the Nation, we need to batten down and tool up.

This is the kind of kit that could be gracing the two East End apartment blocks actually well enough built to not fall down if the trigger gets pulled:

20120501-001509.jpg
A Rapier missile battery, recently

You’ll observe that the missile pictured is being fired in the middle of some vast desert and not in a crowded metropolis where it would be MASSIVELY POINTLESS AND COUNTERPRODUCTIVE as a form of self-defence. If there are any military experts out there who can explain how this sort of weapon could be usefully and safely deployed, I’d be fascinated to hear from you.

I don’t have high hopes for the boots on the ground approach either. To my mind, if you have to deploy 13,500 troops to secure a situation you’ve actually asked for then that’s masochism on a grand scale. If the Games are that much of a risk to the safety of the British public, surely the only sane and responsible step for the Government would be to cancel them. To press ahead at the same time as insisting that all these precautions are vital seems ridiculously cavalier. I can only assume that David Cameron will be following the action from the Cabinet War Rooms. Clearly the Olympic Stadium will be deemed far too dangerous a location for heads of state and dignitaries.

It wouldn’t be too much of a problem to call it off anyway. Most of the legacy stuff is in place now, which is why we bid isn’t it? I suppose some sponsors would feel they were missing out on exposure but that’s not really what the Olympics are about is it?

Oh, apparently it is.

Anyway, watch out folks because the next few days are going to be full of army types running around trying to look useful, security guards running around pretending to be soldiers and politicians running around pretending it’s all for own good. Hurray! At last the Olympics are about running around.