My scribbles of the week

This week I've been mostly experiencing political anger.

I'm sure that, in light of all the things that have been unfolding, I am not, by any means alone. International terrorism is a disgusting, repulsive thing. Seeing our politicians posture and pretend to be strong (by threatening and killing the innocent) is an insult.

Watching the same people hide their personal and politcial failings behind the same tragic circumstances is awful. There is (apologies for dippinging into a political soap box moment) no amount of what happened in Paris that will make me believe that flattening innocent people with explosive annihilation in Syria is an appropriate response to anything at all.

Here is what I produced this week:

So I started with that over privileged moron, David Cameron. I'm tired of the lying and the backroom deals. I have a colleague at work who said to me weakly (the day after the general election) 'He's a good honest man. He'll never harm the NHS, he had a disabled son'. AGH! These people do exist. That swollow the lies. That judge him upon what comes out of his mouth, rather than what he chooses to do.

In drawing Cameron I approached it quite experimentally. Instead of constructing a background sketch initially, I just built up a series of coloured strokes.

The next image is of the Quisling Nick Clegg, who stood for 'No more broken promises' before the general election, and then broke every significant promise in order to have five years as deputy prime-minister. Never before has anyone so brazenly taken a bung in public view.

I created his image in the samw way as Cameron (they are cut from the same cloth afterall).

Of course this took me back to Thatcher - who is more alive in British politics today than she has been since she slid into her offical acknowledgement of senile dementia, and of course her corporeal non-existence. We were quite wrong to celebrate her passing because it meant nothing, her icy dispassionate amoral hand is upon as many decisions now as it ever has been. 

She opened the door for her sociopathic party to do exactly what they like in sponsorship of self indulgement and self aggrandisement, without a flinch of uncertainty towards decency, compassion, or duty of care.

I created her image quite differently - layering colours over an overall general shape of her evil face.
 

Which takes us of course to Tony Blair. The greatest political cuckoo in the nest of all. His steady seduction of the worker's party - the massaging away of any ideological ties - the hypnosis of a nation into illegal wars and imprudent financial deregulation - have left the political left in a nightmarish identity crisis. All we seem to have are those who want an unquestionable entitlement to rule, and anyone who does question becomes a radical left wing lunatic.

I approached Blair as I approached Thatcher.
 

So this depressive downward political spiral took me to Nelson Mandela. Perhaps the only icon of recent political reconciliation and rebirth. Perhaps it's not too late for his ghost to have a hand upon our affairs? 

The battle of two ghosts - Thatcher and the man who she branded with the infamous comment 'that grubby little terrorist'.

If there is anyone out there to receive my prayer, please let the ghost of Mandela prevail in our political psyche.