Cheek. As I say I had an interview the other day. I didn't particularly want the job, but the jobcentre need to be appeased like some unclean god demanding sacrifice and that means pretending to look for a job. To be honest the only reason I applied was because the boss there asked me to. They brought someone in after that to do the job temporarily and I immediately assumed that she would get the job permanently. Appointed without anyone else being interviewed by the area manager. Looks like I was right, they've decided to just give her the job although she didn't apply and had planned to be only temporary. A bit cheeky given that I was asked to apply, but there you go. Very cheeky. I've been given a letter proving to the jobcentre that I had the interview and apprently containing some "feedback". Not interested in your semi-literate ramblings. Fools. Talk shit as much as you want but I'm not capitulating to the dishonesty. Fuck 'em.
The thing I always try to remember though is that corporations are forced participants in these social engineering experiments just as much as we are.
From a quote on Glenn Sacks' blog. Someone talking about preferential hiring policies for women, women being hired first, sacked last and paid more for being engineers. Rubbish. As the man himself says they keep it quiet so they aren't forced into it by public opinion, they're worried about how the public would receive the truth. They keep it secret, there's no government requirement, it's the plaything of the rich. It's meant to make us the playthings of the rich. The fact that is doesn't obviously make them money or gain them anything shows it's for some other motive. Three guesses.
Showing posts with label dole. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dole. Show all posts
Wednesday, 16 January 2008
Tuesday, 10 July 2007
To me (to you)
I believe I neglected to mentionthat my placement starts tomorrow. Silly me, as the chuckle Brothers would say. Working without pay isn't ideal but it's better than being stuck in that office all day every day.
It's been getting very busy. When I arrived there were only two people in, a fat bald man and a woman with the impeccably English name of Lindsey (named for an ancient kingdom a few miles from here) which is spelt with the liberal smattering of 'C's and 'Z's indicative of the Slav. There were three starting the long-term course with me, including myself, the other two being a man who never learned to speak quietly indoors and another man, we all three of us had the same first name, who impressed me by doing his paperwork, literacy test and all that, faster than anyone else, including myself. He's impressed me even more in that he hasn't been seen since, and has presumably been exited (a New Labour style neologistical verb) from the course. So at the end of last week there were four of us. That number has already more than doubled and apparently there will be another eleven starting next week. The loud mouth has rarely actually been there, although I don't know why. He wasn't there today, I only got a glimpse of him as I was going in and he was going out yesterday, but I don't think he's likely to be skiving.
Apparently Sonia has had people ejected for sexual harrassment in the past. I wonder if I could get her done for creating a hostile work environment. She's quite pretty, I suppose, in a dopy sort of way.
There are too New Deal Advisers at the local jobcentre, I'll call them Bill and Ben, after the famous flowerpot men. Understandably, I'm not fond of either of them. One of them is a dour former cole miner, or so he claims at least, but he's obviously and inexplicably proud of working in a jobcentre, as if his abilities to patronise the unemployed while scrounging massive amounts from the taxpayer make him morally superior to those of us who scrounge less. As for the female one, imagine she's called Billhelmina, she's fat and jolly, a bit like a female Father Christmas, but without the generosity and liberality, and with an appaling attendance record. I remember my first time at A4E, a couple of years ago, I sat for a week doing nothing largely because she's swanned off on holiday, which she apparently does on a regular basis. So much so that even the staff of A4E make fun of her.
Speaking of the staff of A4E Sonia has been off sick today, a bit of poetic justice for yesterday's miserable attempt at humour. She was there at the start of the day, but quickly decided she was off. I, on the other hand, feel almost totally fit again. There's not much justice in the world, but there's some.That left only Bob to run the course, but he was introducing a new staff member who will be standing in for him when he is also on holiday next week. There was also another member of staff, a woman, I was able to divine that she was a member of staff but I couldn't figure out what she was doing. That's a common experience on a New Deal course, but this was something special. I'm glad I'll be out of the madhouse tomorrow. I'll buy some chocolate digestives, my personal favourite type of biscuit, tomorrow to celebrate.
I haven't really had anything to do today, but I was given another "project", a blue folder of papers written for congenital idiots on how to work in shop, or a warehouse as it was today. More busywork. I also overheard my fellow course members discussing whether "Take on me" by A-Ha or "Sledgehammer" is the greatest music video of all time. I must say I'm in a minority in supporting "Sledgehammer".
Incidentally the name of my town is an anagram of a rude word.
While we're on incidentals I see that the BBC has opted for a midnight run of Farscape. A bit too late for that, now, but good to see anyway.
Now, I need to send my regard to the Fortean Times.
It's been getting very busy. When I arrived there were only two people in, a fat bald man and a woman with the impeccably English name of Lindsey (named for an ancient kingdom a few miles from here) which is spelt with the liberal smattering of 'C's and 'Z's indicative of the Slav. There were three starting the long-term course with me, including myself, the other two being a man who never learned to speak quietly indoors and another man, we all three of us had the same first name, who impressed me by doing his paperwork, literacy test and all that, faster than anyone else, including myself. He's impressed me even more in that he hasn't been seen since, and has presumably been exited (a New Labour style neologistical verb) from the course. So at the end of last week there were four of us. That number has already more than doubled and apparently there will be another eleven starting next week. The loud mouth has rarely actually been there, although I don't know why. He wasn't there today, I only got a glimpse of him as I was going in and he was going out yesterday, but I don't think he's likely to be skiving.
Apparently Sonia has had people ejected for sexual harrassment in the past. I wonder if I could get her done for creating a hostile work environment. She's quite pretty, I suppose, in a dopy sort of way.
There are too New Deal Advisers at the local jobcentre, I'll call them Bill and Ben, after the famous flowerpot men. Understandably, I'm not fond of either of them. One of them is a dour former cole miner, or so he claims at least, but he's obviously and inexplicably proud of working in a jobcentre, as if his abilities to patronise the unemployed while scrounging massive amounts from the taxpayer make him morally superior to those of us who scrounge less. As for the female one, imagine she's called Billhelmina, she's fat and jolly, a bit like a female Father Christmas, but without the generosity and liberality, and with an appaling attendance record. I remember my first time at A4E, a couple of years ago, I sat for a week doing nothing largely because she's swanned off on holiday, which she apparently does on a regular basis. So much so that even the staff of A4E make fun of her.
Speaking of the staff of A4E Sonia has been off sick today, a bit of poetic justice for yesterday's miserable attempt at humour. She was there at the start of the day, but quickly decided she was off. I, on the other hand, feel almost totally fit again. There's not much justice in the world, but there's some.That left only Bob to run the course, but he was introducing a new staff member who will be standing in for him when he is also on holiday next week. There was also another member of staff, a woman, I was able to divine that she was a member of staff but I couldn't figure out what she was doing. That's a common experience on a New Deal course, but this was something special. I'm glad I'll be out of the madhouse tomorrow. I'll buy some chocolate digestives, my personal favourite type of biscuit, tomorrow to celebrate.
I haven't really had anything to do today, but I was given another "project", a blue folder of papers written for congenital idiots on how to work in shop, or a warehouse as it was today. More busywork. I also overheard my fellow course members discussing whether "Take on me" by A-Ha or "Sledgehammer" is the greatest music video of all time. I must say I'm in a minority in supporting "Sledgehammer".
Incidentally the name of my town is an anagram of a rude word.
While we're on incidentals I see that the BBC has opted for a midnight run of Farscape. A bit too late for that, now, but good to see anyway.
Now, I need to send my regard to the Fortean Times.
Monday, 9 July 2007
Week Two
Another week begins. And another day it is of hard working tax payers money.
On the whole I've not been having a good day. I've not only got a biro out of them, but also a nasty illness. The running nose seems to have gone off but it's been replaced by a splitting headache. Still, you only get five sick days on this course and I'm rather hoping to use them all to turn a thirteen week course into a twelve week course.
I wasn't the only one who's not entirely healthy. Sonia was also ill, in a manner of speaking, but she used it as an excuse to make an anti-male joke of the "sick men whinge too much" variety. It's appropriate that she was whinging herself when she said this, but I didn't quite see the humour. Still, I kept my mouth shut.
Sonia isn't her real name, I must remember that. I was sent for an interview with a view to a placement, unpaid labour that is, this morning at a charity shop and when they asked her name I very nearly said Sonia. I imagine Sonia is feminist. Apart from the above joke, she seems the sort. She has a degree, for starters (I've never had any respect for educational qualifications, I'm proud of not having any). She's very posh. That was this morning, as wasted as usual. More busy work, but even that's all finished now so tomorrow might just be sitting around doing nothing all day. Even today I've spent quite some time sitting doing nothing. Today is monday, of course, so there was a new intake of people, most of whom I'll no doubt never see again. As a result of this I was shoved in with the short-course people and given a set of papers to read headed "INTERVIEW TECHNIQUES - PREPERATION". I wonder why they never seem to use a spell checker.
Still, the late part of the afternoon was productive, or as productive as anything on the New Deal, and unreasonably expensive to the taxpayer (which is the sole source of income for A4E). We went bowling. I've never been bowling, and I can only hope that I never go again. I'm not good at bowling, but that's neither here nor there. Still, a load of taxpayer money down the drain is no skin off my nose. I didn't realise they had barriers which pop up along the side of bowling alleys which render it impossible to miss. There were five of us bowling. Two women, who used this cheat, and myself and another man who had never played before either. And, of course, Bob the course tutor who does it every fortnight and easily beat even those who were cheating. Women cheating, men not: standard.
My Housing Benefit has come through. £50-ish. Taking the piss, it is. One more thing: I have been lambasted in the letters page of the latest Fortean Times (the 60 years of UFOs special), under the name of Stephen Morgan. That's what you get for criticising the free-speech hating anti-conspiracy nuts. I'll have to write a reply when I can get together the vitriol. I would have done so already but I haven't been able to afford this monstrously expensive magazine until this last week.
On the whole I've not been having a good day. I've not only got a biro out of them, but also a nasty illness. The running nose seems to have gone off but it's been replaced by a splitting headache. Still, you only get five sick days on this course and I'm rather hoping to use them all to turn a thirteen week course into a twelve week course.
I wasn't the only one who's not entirely healthy. Sonia was also ill, in a manner of speaking, but she used it as an excuse to make an anti-male joke of the "sick men whinge too much" variety. It's appropriate that she was whinging herself when she said this, but I didn't quite see the humour. Still, I kept my mouth shut.
Sonia isn't her real name, I must remember that. I was sent for an interview with a view to a placement, unpaid labour that is, this morning at a charity shop and when they asked her name I very nearly said Sonia. I imagine Sonia is feminist. Apart from the above joke, she seems the sort. She has a degree, for starters (I've never had any respect for educational qualifications, I'm proud of not having any). She's very posh. That was this morning, as wasted as usual. More busy work, but even that's all finished now so tomorrow might just be sitting around doing nothing all day. Even today I've spent quite some time sitting doing nothing. Today is monday, of course, so there was a new intake of people, most of whom I'll no doubt never see again. As a result of this I was shoved in with the short-course people and given a set of papers to read headed "INTERVIEW TECHNIQUES - PREPERATION". I wonder why they never seem to use a spell checker.
Still, the late part of the afternoon was productive, or as productive as anything on the New Deal, and unreasonably expensive to the taxpayer (which is the sole source of income for A4E). We went bowling. I've never been bowling, and I can only hope that I never go again. I'm not good at bowling, but that's neither here nor there. Still, a load of taxpayer money down the drain is no skin off my nose. I didn't realise they had barriers which pop up along the side of bowling alleys which render it impossible to miss. There were five of us bowling. Two women, who used this cheat, and myself and another man who had never played before either. And, of course, Bob the course tutor who does it every fortnight and easily beat even those who were cheating. Women cheating, men not: standard.
My Housing Benefit has come through. £50-ish. Taking the piss, it is. One more thing: I have been lambasted in the letters page of the latest Fortean Times (the 60 years of UFOs special), under the name of Stephen Morgan. That's what you get for criticising the free-speech hating anti-conspiracy nuts. I'll have to write a reply when I can get together the vitriol. I would have done so already but I haven't been able to afford this monstrously expensive magazine until this last week.
Wednesday, 4 July 2007
I'm alright, Noah, pull up the ladder and sod the rest...
I have become slightly moist. To think, I thought my shoes were waterproof. It's alright, I live on a hill, I won't wake up afloat.
I can't say that there have been major happenings today. The morning was agreeable enough, the usual timewasting: half an hour on the computer looking at the same jobs I was looking at the same time yesterday, then I was relieved to almost have something to do, in that I had to learn how to use MS Word from a sheaf of papers. Of course, I already know how to use MS Word, but no distraction should be allowed to go to waste. That ate up most of my day, that did. Thankfully it was rather more literate than yesterday's letter writing sheath. The afternoon was a different matter, I was ordered out onto the streets to go around supermarkets looking for application forms for nonexistent jobs. Netto, Waitrose, Marks and Sparks, Morrisons, WIlkos, etc.. It seems like a long time ago, for I was very hot at the time and was happy for the light rains to cool me. Now I'm sopping wet and less than happy. However even in adversity the clouds have silver linings. I managed to stretch out my wanderings from immediately after the afternoon break until half past three, knowing that the end time for the day is only nominally four o'clock.
I didn't come back with many forms, just one indeed. "I see you've got a big pile there, then". He ought to be a policeman with sarcasm like that.
Best thing, though, I managed to engineer it so that tomorrow morning I can have a nice walk to Morrison's, to "collect a form". It all comes right in the end. Always does.
There is a security door with an intercom at A4E (Action 4 Employment, for the blissfully ignorant). I have heard the story, last time I was there, acouple of years ago, about why it was put in. A couple of smack heads beating each other up, apparently.
When I was younger I went to a head doctor. I was forced to by someone, I believe he called himself an education welfare officer. There was someone at A4E last time I was there who mentioned this same head doctor. I'm not entirely surprised that it's such a common experience among New Deal "beneficiaries" to have been sent off to the shrinks. Psycho(logist)s and the New Deal are the same thing: beat people into line, make them obey or face the consequences.
I have more money from my dole than I expected. The bank seem to have charged me one less of their illegal bank charges than I expected. Maybe I'm the first person not employed by a bank (and not a bank) to benefit from a banking error. Just like monopoly.
I can't say that there have been major happenings today. The morning was agreeable enough, the usual timewasting: half an hour on the computer looking at the same jobs I was looking at the same time yesterday, then I was relieved to almost have something to do, in that I had to learn how to use MS Word from a sheaf of papers. Of course, I already know how to use MS Word, but no distraction should be allowed to go to waste. That ate up most of my day, that did. Thankfully it was rather more literate than yesterday's letter writing sheath. The afternoon was a different matter, I was ordered out onto the streets to go around supermarkets looking for application forms for nonexistent jobs. Netto, Waitrose, Marks and Sparks, Morrisons, WIlkos, etc.. It seems like a long time ago, for I was very hot at the time and was happy for the light rains to cool me. Now I'm sopping wet and less than happy. However even in adversity the clouds have silver linings. I managed to stretch out my wanderings from immediately after the afternoon break until half past three, knowing that the end time for the day is only nominally four o'clock.
I didn't come back with many forms, just one indeed. "I see you've got a big pile there, then". He ought to be a policeman with sarcasm like that.
Best thing, though, I managed to engineer it so that tomorrow morning I can have a nice walk to Morrison's, to "collect a form". It all comes right in the end. Always does.
There is a security door with an intercom at A4E (Action 4 Employment, for the blissfully ignorant). I have heard the story, last time I was there, acouple of years ago, about why it was put in. A couple of smack heads beating each other up, apparently.
When I was younger I went to a head doctor. I was forced to by someone, I believe he called himself an education welfare officer. There was someone at A4E last time I was there who mentioned this same head doctor. I'm not entirely surprised that it's such a common experience among New Deal "beneficiaries" to have been sent off to the shrinks. Psycho(logist)s and the New Deal are the same thing: beat people into line, make them obey or face the consequences.
I have more money from my dole than I expected. The bank seem to have charged me one less of their illegal bank charges than I expected. Maybe I'm the first person not employed by a bank (and not a bank) to benefit from a banking error. Just like monopoly.
Tuesday, 3 July 2007
Day Two...
I see a sign out side a local employment agency: "temporary to permanent". It's all advertising. It's like the pretty woman in the sports car advert, or the holiday ad that never shows the monsoon season.
Back to the New Deal, though: the standard wealth-redistribution programme - from the tax payer to the rich. I don't own a coat, so I've been getting wet. I don't agree with coats, if you can't take the cold it serves you right. Stay inside. Big girl's blouse. This is what happens when you let Jeremy Hardy sing.
As usual the day on New Deal was uneventful. I learned something, which is less usual, I learned how much you can stretch what is effectively nothing to fill a CV. I don't like being party to that sort of wastage of words, but that's the way it has to be. I say being a party to it, for I am far too honest to write that sort of thing. Luckily there is a woman who works there who seem to specialise in this sort of thing, this sort of thing being the writing of total rubbish where there should be clean and unblemished white paper. I wouldn't say it's lies exactly, most of the combinations of words are meaningless enough that they signify nothing, whether true or false. I'm by nature a taciturn man and word with no meaning don't come naturally to me. Women find it far easier to run at the mouth. Sonia, I'll call her, although I don't think that's her name. Names aren't my strong point.
I applied for a job today, from a man call shazbot, or something similar. Must be a pakistani name or something like that. He sounded like the typical kind of young trendy asian you find everywhere. He asked how old I was and seemed shocked I'd never worked. I remember years ago hearing "you're nineteen and you've never worked?" Didn't get that one either. He obviously has a different understanding of the phrase "previous experience not essential".
Speaking of people who don't understand the English language, another bit of the busy-work (which doesn't begin to keep me busy) A4E gave me was a sheath of papers purporting to teach me how to write a letter. Apparently I'm expected to send piles of letters to random businesses hoping they'll give me a job. 70% of jobs are unadvertised. The aim of this is, to quote the document in question, "to understand the person of different types of letters". Oh goody. Being taught how to write by an illiterate. I won't list the spelling mistakes and the frankly pathetic grasp of grammar, but imagine how pleased I was, on the first page of this sheath, to see the phrase "it is no use having a CV". Well, I couldn't agree more. It's nice to see my morning was well-spent. Well, I say my morning, it was the woman with the brown eyes, whatshername, who was reeling the drivel off, but it was very strenuous being nearby at the time.
I have a bit of time left, so I'll tell a brief story. One day I was at the Jobcentre (Plus, although plus what I don't know) and I was waiting to sign on. There were four women signing people on, although at that time I was the only one waiting. I was kept waiting, although if I'd been late I wouldn't have been paid. I listened for several minutes, dumb with disbelief, as they talked about what hats they were going to wear to Ascot. I remember that one of them was upset because she'd worn one of her hats before a didn't want to wear it again to such a prestigious occasion, which undoubtedly deserved new headware. Nice to see public servants so hard at work. Still, it's more productive that my current sisyphean nightmare.
I got a letter from a bailiff today. As usual my democratically elected representatives are my main persecutors.
Still, they seem "optimistic" about getting me a "work placement" (forced labour for below the minimum wage). Reasons to be cheerful.
Back to the New Deal, though: the standard wealth-redistribution programme - from the tax payer to the rich. I don't own a coat, so I've been getting wet. I don't agree with coats, if you can't take the cold it serves you right. Stay inside. Big girl's blouse. This is what happens when you let Jeremy Hardy sing.
As usual the day on New Deal was uneventful. I learned something, which is less usual, I learned how much you can stretch what is effectively nothing to fill a CV. I don't like being party to that sort of wastage of words, but that's the way it has to be. I say being a party to it, for I am far too honest to write that sort of thing. Luckily there is a woman who works there who seem to specialise in this sort of thing, this sort of thing being the writing of total rubbish where there should be clean and unblemished white paper. I wouldn't say it's lies exactly, most of the combinations of words are meaningless enough that they signify nothing, whether true or false. I'm by nature a taciturn man and word with no meaning don't come naturally to me. Women find it far easier to run at the mouth. Sonia, I'll call her, although I don't think that's her name. Names aren't my strong point.
I applied for a job today, from a man call shazbot, or something similar. Must be a pakistani name or something like that. He sounded like the typical kind of young trendy asian you find everywhere. He asked how old I was and seemed shocked I'd never worked. I remember years ago hearing "you're nineteen and you've never worked?" Didn't get that one either. He obviously has a different understanding of the phrase "previous experience not essential".
Speaking of people who don't understand the English language, another bit of the busy-work (which doesn't begin to keep me busy) A4E gave me was a sheath of papers purporting to teach me how to write a letter. Apparently I'm expected to send piles of letters to random businesses hoping they'll give me a job. 70% of jobs are unadvertised. The aim of this is, to quote the document in question, "to understand the person of different types of letters". Oh goody. Being taught how to write by an illiterate. I won't list the spelling mistakes and the frankly pathetic grasp of grammar, but imagine how pleased I was, on the first page of this sheath, to see the phrase "it is no use having a CV". Well, I couldn't agree more. It's nice to see my morning was well-spent. Well, I say my morning, it was the woman with the brown eyes, whatshername, who was reeling the drivel off, but it was very strenuous being nearby at the time.
I have a bit of time left, so I'll tell a brief story. One day I was at the Jobcentre (Plus, although plus what I don't know) and I was waiting to sign on. There were four women signing people on, although at that time I was the only one waiting. I was kept waiting, although if I'd been late I wouldn't have been paid. I listened for several minutes, dumb with disbelief, as they talked about what hats they were going to wear to Ascot. I remember that one of them was upset because she'd worn one of her hats before a didn't want to wear it again to such a prestigious occasion, which undoubtedly deserved new headware. Nice to see public servants so hard at work. Still, it's more productive that my current sisyphean nightmare.
I got a letter from a bailiff today. As usual my democratically elected representatives are my main persecutors.
Still, they seem "optimistic" about getting me a "work placement" (forced labour for below the minimum wage). Reasons to be cheerful.
Monday, 2 July 2007
Best foot forward...
...that being the left foot, according to the Statues the Egyptians made of their bizarre deities. At least they had no owl gods, eh?
I have intended this to be a blog entirely about my unfortunate experiences with the forces of the Department for Work and Pensions, a misnomer if ever there was one, but it's going to start with somethin rather different.
I'm a naturally suspicious, even paranoid, man, but paranoiacs are made, not born. The history of terrorism is a history of Gladio-style black-ops and flase flag operations, so I'm sceptical of the government position on the recent "attack" in Glasgow, and the "bombs" (nails and petrol, nothing like a legitimate nail bomb) found in London.
The big problem with the official line is the lack of CCTV footage. I'm hardly either an expert, or the first to spot this, but why has no CCTV been released of the "most wanted" man in the country? I don't think this can have been the product of the infamous terrorist training camps: there were no explosives! These "bombs" were cans of petrol with boxes of nails next to them. I've never built a bomb, but even I know that's not a nail bomb. Petrol isn't even an explosive.
So, here's the official line, some respectable doctors built a "bomb" out of petrol and nails with no explosive and no apparent means of detonation. They, in the hope of not being detected, parked conspicuously and illegally in London. Makes perfect sense.
"There is no indication that the vehicle contained any explosives," said a spokesman.
I saw that somewhere.
The news showed something from Glasgow. A white bloke arrested, only seen from behind on TV, perhaps to protect his face. Maybe he's an intelligence agent and they don't want his ugly mug all over the telly. A "witness" says the man in the burning car jumped out shouting "allah, allah", was he a real witness? We can't know, the witnesses around 9/11 have severally proven to be intelligence plants. Looks like there was no exercise this time, anyway. Poor old Peter Power will be disappointed.
Perhaps the oddest thing is that they were driving mercs. If I was blowing up a car I'd choose a cheaper one. Keep the money to wage holy war another day. But this gets me onto, by route of the Mercedes, my New Deal "placement". Heed the nomenclature of New Labour and tremble: I am a "beneficiary". My "placement" is also called an "opportunity". It's a standard 13 week "opportunity", which those others who've suffered through a New Deal scheme will know about. They used to do 26 week courses, but gave up on those. It's not the first time I've been sent on one of these. They make your life miserable, I tell you. I've still never done a Gateway to Work course, but this is my second 13 week placement. I like to think I've done quite well in avoiding spending more than a fortnight on an actual course since I signed on back in 2004.
Some people won't know how the New Deal system works. For starters, it's in no way related to the New Deal system the American FDR introduced. The New Deal for Young People, Tony Blair's New Deal, seem to serve little purpose beyond harrassing the unemployed and unemployable and, of course, lining the pockets of a few very rich people. Specifically the woman who started the company, which would go bankrupt in ten seconds flat if it wasn't leaching off the government, has become a multimillionaire and got herself a slot on Dragon's Den. Just what we need, an entrepreneur who made her money scrounging off the taxpayer telling other people they're no good in business. I get quite annoyed about all this, you know.
Anyway, the first day of this placement was much as I remember it being last time. Lots of paperwork in the morning followed by lots of sitting around doing nothing in the afternoon. Task for the afternoon: compile a CV. Terrific. Well, no employment experience, no education or qualifications. That was quick. He seem to think writing a "personal profile" (I use quote because I don't want anyone to think I'd write such a thing off my own bat) instead will fool an employer into thinking that I've got marketable skills, rather than emphasing their total absence. I disagree, but what will be will be. And what will be is my time being wasted by idiots.
As for the merc: it turns out the man who runs the course (who, to protect the innocent (me) I will call Bob) drives one. I admit, my dole-scrounging powers seem quite feeble next to that. But, as he repeatedly assured those members of the class who were too inquisitive for their own good, he's not in it for the money, he's there for us. Isn't that nice? And the company buys din dins for the Gateway people , solely out of the goodness of their hearts.
I wish I didn't have to go to it, of course, it's worse than useless: it's a waste of time, but I have no choice in the matter, even if Bob says otherwise (as he does). When a man with a gun to your head gives you a choice, it doesn't amount to much. I'm not optimistic about sticking it for long, but hopefully a blend of angry resentment and stoical resignation will get me through for a bit.
I should mention the last time I was on New Deal provision, to use the lingo. It was probably about two years ago, not long after 7/7 (quite a coincidence) and caused me to miss the Third Test in its entirety. I stuck it out for about eight working days. I got a free pair of shoes out of it, so mustn't grumble. This time's got off to a good start, I've already got a biro out of it, for nowt. I don't really remember much else about last time, except I'd arrived just too late to take part in a group application for jobs at the new TK Maxx, or whatever it's called (used to be a Big W when I live round that way), about which I was massively disappointed, as you might expect. At that time the staff was slightly difference. Bob had just arrived, but there was also a big blonde woman, a man with slicked back hair and a big fat bloke who sounded like a louder version of Chris Moyles. Thank heaven for small mercies, he is no longer there.
A suggestion for government policy: abolish the New Deal. The unemployable should be left alone. By all means offer training, but I mean fund a course for someone who wants to get an HGV licence, I don't mean forcing someone who knows all about computers to learn to use MS Word (my own, personal, sentence). Never mind, last time they tried to teach me to read and write. I must've gone up in the world since then, although I'm not aware of any great change. Save the money currently poured into the coffers of big business (and that woman on Dragon's Den, which I don't watch) , save the money spent on the big buraeucracies of New Deal advisers, New Deal placements and all the rest of it (those mercs aren't coming out of nowhere, you know, and they're not coming from efficient government spending either). Let the poor get on with it, without being pestered or given busy-work. We all know most of these people will find a job, and the statistics show that New Deal actually makes people less likely to find work (in that its effects are greater at taking up valuable job-hunting time from real job seekers than at poking the recalcitrant into action).
If you hear of a blood bath, you'll know the bloke who shouts every fucking word he says got too much for me.
I have intended this to be a blog entirely about my unfortunate experiences with the forces of the Department for Work and Pensions, a misnomer if ever there was one, but it's going to start with somethin rather different.
I'm a naturally suspicious, even paranoid, man, but paranoiacs are made, not born. The history of terrorism is a history of Gladio-style black-ops and flase flag operations, so I'm sceptical of the government position on the recent "attack" in Glasgow, and the "bombs" (nails and petrol, nothing like a legitimate nail bomb) found in London.
The big problem with the official line is the lack of CCTV footage. I'm hardly either an expert, or the first to spot this, but why has no CCTV been released of the "most wanted" man in the country? I don't think this can have been the product of the infamous terrorist training camps: there were no explosives! These "bombs" were cans of petrol with boxes of nails next to them. I've never built a bomb, but even I know that's not a nail bomb. Petrol isn't even an explosive.
So, here's the official line, some respectable doctors built a "bomb" out of petrol and nails with no explosive and no apparent means of detonation. They, in the hope of not being detected, parked conspicuously and illegally in London. Makes perfect sense.
"There is no indication that the vehicle contained any explosives," said a spokesman.
I saw that somewhere.
The news showed something from Glasgow. A white bloke arrested, only seen from behind on TV, perhaps to protect his face. Maybe he's an intelligence agent and they don't want his ugly mug all over the telly. A "witness" says the man in the burning car jumped out shouting "allah, allah", was he a real witness? We can't know, the witnesses around 9/11 have severally proven to be intelligence plants. Looks like there was no exercise this time, anyway. Poor old Peter Power will be disappointed.
Perhaps the oddest thing is that they were driving mercs. If I was blowing up a car I'd choose a cheaper one. Keep the money to wage holy war another day. But this gets me onto, by route of the Mercedes, my New Deal "placement". Heed the nomenclature of New Labour and tremble: I am a "beneficiary". My "placement" is also called an "opportunity". It's a standard 13 week "opportunity", which those others who've suffered through a New Deal scheme will know about. They used to do 26 week courses, but gave up on those. It's not the first time I've been sent on one of these. They make your life miserable, I tell you. I've still never done a Gateway to Work course, but this is my second 13 week placement. I like to think I've done quite well in avoiding spending more than a fortnight on an actual course since I signed on back in 2004.
Some people won't know how the New Deal system works. For starters, it's in no way related to the New Deal system the American FDR introduced. The New Deal for Young People, Tony Blair's New Deal, seem to serve little purpose beyond harrassing the unemployed and unemployable and, of course, lining the pockets of a few very rich people. Specifically the woman who started the company, which would go bankrupt in ten seconds flat if it wasn't leaching off the government, has become a multimillionaire and got herself a slot on Dragon's Den. Just what we need, an entrepreneur who made her money scrounging off the taxpayer telling other people they're no good in business. I get quite annoyed about all this, you know.
Anyway, the first day of this placement was much as I remember it being last time. Lots of paperwork in the morning followed by lots of sitting around doing nothing in the afternoon. Task for the afternoon: compile a CV. Terrific. Well, no employment experience, no education or qualifications. That was quick. He seem to think writing a "personal profile" (I use quote because I don't want anyone to think I'd write such a thing off my own bat) instead will fool an employer into thinking that I've got marketable skills, rather than emphasing their total absence. I disagree, but what will be will be. And what will be is my time being wasted by idiots.
As for the merc: it turns out the man who runs the course (who, to protect the innocent (me) I will call Bob) drives one. I admit, my dole-scrounging powers seem quite feeble next to that. But, as he repeatedly assured those members of the class who were too inquisitive for their own good, he's not in it for the money, he's there for us. Isn't that nice? And the company buys din dins for the Gateway people , solely out of the goodness of their hearts.
I wish I didn't have to go to it, of course, it's worse than useless: it's a waste of time, but I have no choice in the matter, even if Bob says otherwise (as he does). When a man with a gun to your head gives you a choice, it doesn't amount to much. I'm not optimistic about sticking it for long, but hopefully a blend of angry resentment and stoical resignation will get me through for a bit.
I should mention the last time I was on New Deal provision, to use the lingo. It was probably about two years ago, not long after 7/7 (quite a coincidence) and caused me to miss the Third Test in its entirety. I stuck it out for about eight working days. I got a free pair of shoes out of it, so mustn't grumble. This time's got off to a good start, I've already got a biro out of it, for nowt. I don't really remember much else about last time, except I'd arrived just too late to take part in a group application for jobs at the new TK Maxx, or whatever it's called (used to be a Big W when I live round that way), about which I was massively disappointed, as you might expect. At that time the staff was slightly difference. Bob had just arrived, but there was also a big blonde woman, a man with slicked back hair and a big fat bloke who sounded like a louder version of Chris Moyles. Thank heaven for small mercies, he is no longer there.
A suggestion for government policy: abolish the New Deal. The unemployable should be left alone. By all means offer training, but I mean fund a course for someone who wants to get an HGV licence, I don't mean forcing someone who knows all about computers to learn to use MS Word (my own, personal, sentence). Never mind, last time they tried to teach me to read and write. I must've gone up in the world since then, although I'm not aware of any great change. Save the money currently poured into the coffers of big business (and that woman on Dragon's Den, which I don't watch) , save the money spent on the big buraeucracies of New Deal advisers, New Deal placements and all the rest of it (those mercs aren't coming out of nowhere, you know, and they're not coming from efficient government spending either). Let the poor get on with it, without being pestered or given busy-work. We all know most of these people will find a job, and the statistics show that New Deal actually makes people less likely to find work (in that its effects are greater at taking up valuable job-hunting time from real job seekers than at poking the recalcitrant into action).
If you hear of a blood bath, you'll know the bloke who shouts every fucking word he says got too much for me.
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