When Tories Clap

We’re going to clap you all the way to deportation
We’re going to clap you all the way to your NHS surcharge
We’re going to clap our stance of tough on immigration
‘Cos Priti and the Tories are in charge

We’re going to clap you all the way to the care home
We’re going to clap ourselves for our protective ring
We’re going to clap your opportunity to die alone
‘Cos Matt Hancock didn’t do a thing

This is what happens when Tories clap
This is what happens when Tories clap
This is what happens when Tories clap
Never forget

We’re going to clap you all the way to deportation
We’re going to clap the NHS that you helped to build
We’re going to clap our stance of tough on immigration
‘Cos Priti still reckons you’re unskilled

This is what happens when Tories clap
This is what happens when Tories clap
This is what happens when Tories clap
Never forget

We’re going to clap you all the way to privatisation
We’re going to clap our plans to test, track and trace
We’re going to clap our clever contract allocation
To Matt and Dominic’s bestest mates

This is what happens when Tories clap
This is what happens when Tories clap
This is what happens when Tories clap
(Remember nurses pay?)
Never forget

Tories Get Tests

Tories get tests
While the rest of us guess

The science suggests
That’s it’s for the best
The more that you test

And so, we protest
Our distress
And express
That NHS workers
Should all get the test

I must confess
It leaves me quite vexed
That Tories get tests
While the rest of us guess

Cull the Herd

We’ve decided not to cull the herd, he said
We’ve decided not to cull the herd
When we led without alacrity
Folk acted unilaterally
So, we’ve decided not to cull the herd

We’ve decided not to shut the pubs, he said
We’ve decided not to shut the pubs
We’ve offered some advice
That they might not find very nice
But we’ve decided not to shut the pubs

We’ve decided not to shut the clubs, he said
We’ve decided not to shut the clubs
We’ll tell you not to go
But for them there’s no compo
‘Cos we’ve decided not to shut the clubs

We’ve decided not to stop the trains, he said
We’ve decided not to stop the trains
We said avoid the rush
And your fellow traveller’s brush
But we’ve decided not to stop the trains

We’ve decided to close the schools, he said
We’ve decided to close the schools
Well, for half the kids he smirked
Whose mums haven’t got to work
We’ve half decided to close the schools

We’ve decided not to cull the herd, he said
We’ve decided not to cull the herd
When we looked at the quotas
They were mainly Tory voters
So, we’ve decided not to cull the herd

We Shall Overcome at What’s Cookin’

“This is about stopping the Tories killing people. We’ll stop them with a raised fist: in the streets, on demonstrations and by organising in our trade unions, our workplaces and our communities. Tonight we’re going to stop them with a helping hand. All tonight’s acts are playing for free, all the money will go to people on the front line of stopping Tories killing people: a food bank, a soup kitchen, and a charity that supports disabled survivors of abuse and hate crime.”

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Picture: Alison Foster

Well, we all needed that after this week: some joy, some solidarity. Never underestimate the healing power of music.

There is perhaps no better band to lift your post-election blues than Commie Faggots, no better R’n’B to dance the night away to than The Beatpack’s, book-ending our favourite ever pub rockers Graham Larkbey & The Escape Committee, the irrepressible Efa Supertramp, our hero Robb Johnson thanking the audience for lifting his spirits and, of course, us, debuting Air Miles Andy and leading a rousing chorus of Bring the Bastards Down.

We emerge this morning bleary-eyed but calmer, with a renewed sense of purpose.

We shall overcome.

The final fundraising figures aren’t in yet, but the legendary What’s Cookin’ whip-round won’t have let us down. If you couldn’t make it but would like to make a contribution, here are the links:

Eat or Heat

The Christian Kitchen

Stay Safe East

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Picture: Dave Craig
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Picture: Dave Craig
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Picture: Dave Craig
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Picture: Dave Craig

Steve

The Progress of Society is Not Linear

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The Centre for Social Injustice

It’s what Supersonic is all about.

The press report this week that Iain Duncan Smith’s think tank, The Centre For Social Justice, recommends increasing the state pension age to 70 by 2028 and 75 by 2030 because, they say, we’re living longer and we are unaffordable.

In 1948, when the state pension was introduced, a man could expect to live for 12 years in retirement and a woman 19, approximately 16% and 24% of their lives respectively[1]. The current state pension ages improve those percentages to 24% and 26%, the proposals from the Centre for Social Justice worsen them to 18% and 20%, with a man receiving his pension for just 17 years on average and a woman hers for 19 years.

But those are just numbers without considering the real hardship of people that can’t afford a workplace pension or the effects on your health and well being of being forced to work full time into old age. Those who would keep you in the workhouse, such as the Centre’s head, Andy Cook, would have you believe that work is good for you whatever your age, and stealing your state pension is a means to “help older people to remain in work”[2].

Nor do the numbers speak of inequality, the life expectancy of Blackpool man (74.7) compared to Kensington and Chelsea man (83.3), the widening of that divide with time or the socioeconomic back story.

The reality will be to make death in service the norm. This isn’t economic good sense, it’s class warfare.

Duncan Smith? We know a song about him. Hard work? We know a song about that too.

Steve

  1. Office of National Statistics
  2. Daily Mirror, 17 August 2019

Johnson for PM, God Fuckin’ Help Us

Theresa May’s Brexit deal is dead in the water of her crocodile tears. A fresh Tory leader with the charisma to succeed in Brussels where she has failed seems unlikely; no-deal versus no-Brexit is now the pundit’s favoured battleground, with or without a second referendum.

Dying with May’s career is my Brexit Prayer, performed once at the Fish & Bicycle Club, but there’s renewed interest in former London mayor and foreign secretary Johnson, as the wholly unrepresentative rump that is the Conservative Party membership elects a new prime minister.

Does Johnson have what it takes to make the deal that May failed to, or does Brussels see him for the loathsome charlatan[1] that he is? Speculation at Protest Towers is that the job’s going to an outlier with Johnson waiting to pick up the post-exit pieces once the dust has settled.

In any event, we know a song (or two) about him.

Steve

 

  1. Hat tip to Jonathan Freedland, writing in the Guardian.