The Bore War

Bill Hicks, ‘61 – ’94 (American comedian, social commenter and all around genius) was on the money when he said, regarding the Gulf War - “I guess it was pretty amazing, to see a missile fly down an air vent”. Indeed it was, especially when it was an American missile NOT flying down the air vent of a British army tank (Zing!!) Ahem. Anyway.

He was right of course, it was pretty incredible. After a while though, as we may recall, it all fizzled out like a damp firework on a wet November night. Until, that is, 9/11. Yes, 9/11 (or 11/9 for those of us who still drive on the correct side of the road) provided George Bush Jr with the excuse he needed to pick up where his old man left off.

Almost immediately the Gulf War was rebranded the Iraq War, which became the Afghan War, became the War In The Middle East and finally settled on the all encompassing ‘War on Terror’. Suddenly we were at war with fucking EVERYTHING (spiders, mice, pumpkin pie, alligators, terrorists,) and it looked like things were hotting up again. The air vent missiles were forgotten and cool new science fiction type ordnance took over: Drones. Imagine android flying machines with little red dots going back and forth like Cylon raiders as they hone in on startled, yet evil looking men in evil looking Arab clobber. Yay for Drones.

And despite the fact that six thousand miles away servicemen and women were developing PTSD after guiding these red, white and blue drones of freedom into schools it was still, as Bill said ‘pretty impressive’.

At this point, I should say that this isn’t a diatribe on the evils of war. Nor upon the evils of George Bush and his cronies, the evils of guiding missiles into hospitals and schools or even the general evils of imperialistic military intent. It is all about the wearisome and depressing effect of a very boring war. And this has been a boring war – or not war, or whatever they're calling it this week.

Even the films have been cack. How bad must it be if they can’t make a watchable movie when they already have a kick ass title like War On Terror? Imagine it being spoken in a deep, foreboding American voice from massive speakers in a darkened cinema – WAR ON TERRORRRRRRRRR!!!! You see? Your date would be huddled up to you in no time.

But no. We got Green Zone. A far fetched bit of over-simplified tedium with Matt Damon tramping about the desert and failing to find WMD, only to discover what the entire world has known from day one – there weren’t any. Yawn and fade to black.

And what was Jarhead for? Not ‘what was it about?’ – but why was it? I faded to black within half an hour and never bothered again. But I guess it is hard to make good movies about a war where the enemy comprises kids and old men who have more experience milking goats (can you milk a goat?) than they have wielding Russian made automatic weapons. A good war movie needs freaks in black leather and death's head insignia – or at least black pyjamas and bamboo cages in unpronounceable deltas full of rats.

The only real high point has been Team America, but that wasn’t really about The War in Iraq. That was more about the ridiculous right wing media created idea that a highly organised and structured army of terrorists (generally evil people who have no reason to be evil other than they like it) are hiding somewhere out there. Probably in the same place as the WMD.

But let's call a spade a not spade: This whole war has been a bit of a let down from a mass entertainment point of view. It’s been dreary. No WMD, no evil overlords, no black leather and no good reason for being there. Nobody can really justify it so it’s hard to make a film that paints us as the good guys, and if we’re not the good guys then we must be….shit. No wonder it’s unpopular. No wonder the films are all crap; it’s us. We’re the baddies. We’re wearing the death's heads and the black leather pyjamas!!! It’s a war Jim, but not as we like it!

All that said, who really cares. The nature of entertainment is changing and that has never been more apparent. Instead of war movies that inspire kids to happily take the kings shilling, after spending long summer afternoons running around with sticks and shouting – drrrrraaa drrrrrraaaa – at each other, we have Call of Duty. Nowadays kids can tell the difference between a Barrett ‘Light Fifty’ and a Russian made semi automatic Dragunov. They know the fire rate of a Famas Assault Rifle and how many rounds you can speed load into a Colt Python. (Okay, that’s easy. We all knew that. Didn’t we?)

Which begs the question: If this whole thing really is all about peace, freedom and democracy, couldn’t we have just pointed nukes at 'them’ (the terrorists, the spiders, whatever) and said – we’re all playing Modern Warfare! Winner gets the oil, the minerals and installs a puppet government. Loser gets a new job title and nothing else changes. Are you in or do we press the button? After all, we have some pretty good 12 year old players here in the West and you can get Xbox live for less than £25 a year. It could change overnight from the ‘War on Terror’ to the ‘War on Terribly Expensive Equipment’. Which, let’s face it, the MOD isn’t paying for anyway. Sorry lads.

But, I digress. Outside of COD,  Modern Warfare 1, 2 and Black OPs – its all been a bit dreary and tiresome. Money is made and spent. Young men, women and children on all sides die and lose limbs while praying to Gods who seem to have forgotten them, and we all feel safe in our beds from the hordes apparently hiding behind every tree, just waiting to pounce. Go us. We really do rock.

In which case, I guess when I next want to feel good about death, destruction and slaughter on a vast scale, I’ll whip out the Band Of Brothers box set I got last Christmas and enjoy an accurate reproduction of a good old fashioned and wholesome war. ‘When I was a lad’, I’ll say to my daughter, ‘all this was wars, wars as far as the eye could see. Proper wars mind!’

Either that or I’ll follow the advice of that late, great American Mr William Melvin Hicks when he said, and I’m paraphrasing - ‘Can I suggest, instead of a war to feel good about yourself…..six to eight glasses of water a day? Sit ups? Maybe a fruit cup?.......’

God rest ye Bill.

Cut To Snow!!!

The news in general is so god awfully bad all over this week, that the BBC are interviewing snow - What do you say to people who accuse you of being cold and a bit slippery.
Speaking for snow, I for one am tired of being demonised. What about the banks in Ireland ? Isn't that more newsworthy?
Cut to rain. Cut to rain. Don't mention the banks!!!!

If only the truth were told on ‘the news’ and in terms we could actually make sense of without having to wade through a fucking morass of media black flag operations and misdirection.   I for one might be happier.  I might not of course, but at least it would be one less thing to think about.  I want to see Sian Williams at 6am on a cold, wet morning in Old Blighty, sitting there with Bill - good old reliable, believable Bill - telling the nation:

"Good morning, and here at the BBC we really are sick to death of all the sleight of hand and smoke and mirrors with which we are forced to befuddle you, dear loyal license paying viewers, every single day.

Yes, there has been a bit of snow along the East Coast of Northern England overnight, but on the other hand Irelands economy has dropped back to pre-Roman levels of poverty and hysterical desperation.  A chicken is now worth the same as a loaf of bread in Zimbabwe and North Korea are shelling the shit out of South Korea.  Meanwhile the US have responded by sending in an aircraft carrier because she is busy fighting at least two illegal wars in the Middle East and doesn't really have time to sort out a potential world war three scenario (thank God).  I don't know about you, but here at the Beeb we're hoping Kim Jong Ill will go and have a little lie down and wake up in a better mood.

Meanwhile, across the pond, the nation seems to be gearing up to vote a brain dead Alaskan to the White House because the middle class refuse to accept free health care until it is conclusively proven that praying doesn't work for cancer.  There also seems to be some confusion at grass roots level about the difference between 'social health care' 'social responsibility' and 'social-ism', but that's another story.

In Australia the England cricket team are.....well....playing cricket (wake me up at tea time) and Shawn Rider has you all looking the other way on I'm a celebrity.  In the meantime dear viewers the coalition government in the UK are about to take the food, not from your table, but right out of your fucking drooling mouths while you sit there glassy eyed wondering what colour Kate and Wills' bridesmaid dresses will be.

At 7am we'll be speaking to some bloodthirsty bondage freak baby eating boy buggering Tory backbench bastard nobody has ever heard of, who will answer a pre-agreed set of questions his office fed to us last week like a bottle of cold tea to a Glaswegian toddler.  There will be no serious prodding or investigation of the absolute fucking lies he spews before we move on to some kid from the Midlands who got an A in maths but who only has one eye.  Then it's the weather again and we're off.

I could go on.  And on and on and on.  If you know me, you'll know this to be true.  But it's late and I have work in the morning.  I hope it's Natasha Kaplinski tomorrow.  She's got better legs.