Talking balls
After having somewhat promisingly imploded into a factional fracas and one almighty sulk, it saddens me to see that the mithering minions of Fathers 4 Justice are back.
Inevitably, its members don't appear to have learned one iota from the failure of their previous escapades, nor taken advantage of their sojourn to rethink their one idea of trying to promote the notion of responsible parenthood through the staging of irresponsible stunts.
By gatecrashing, of all things, the National Lottery draw to shout and bawl and generally do as much as possible to irritate and offend the country, the organisation has yet again provided a superb advert for precisely why you should not want to let children spend any more time in these men's company than is legally possible. Whatever message the protestors were trying to convey was lost, as is always the case with such chicanery, amidst the excitement of seeing a live television programme go wrong, and the business of watching how the various presenters sought to extricate themselves from the confusion in an orderly and dignified fashion.
You'll see that a spokesmen for the rabble tried to justify targeting the Lottery by comparing the draw to the process under which fathers seek to gain access to their children through, and I quote, "the secret family courts". Come again? What the hell is the man talking about? He makes it sound like we're all living in some kind Orwellian, or more likely David Icke-ian, totalitarian state. And just how does the random drawing of balls in order to raise money for charity and make a few people very rich equate with a parent's ability or inability to argue a rational case for access to their child?
Thankfully, the spouting of such bollocks merely accelerates still further the organisation's slide into ridicule. Any serious point to be made about the mechanics behind the operation of family law in the UK continues to get lost in the brouhaha whipped up by the means Fathers 4 Justice employ to seek their end. Meanwhile I like how Eamonn sounded so alarmed when he spoke of how he thought the men were out "to destroy the lottery machines." Heaven help us all were a plastic sphere and some ping pong balls ever to fall victim to the half-arsed machinations of a few pissed off dads.
Inevitably, its members don't appear to have learned one iota from the failure of their previous escapades, nor taken advantage of their sojourn to rethink their one idea of trying to promote the notion of responsible parenthood through the staging of irresponsible stunts.
By gatecrashing, of all things, the National Lottery draw to shout and bawl and generally do as much as possible to irritate and offend the country, the organisation has yet again provided a superb advert for precisely why you should not want to let children spend any more time in these men's company than is legally possible. Whatever message the protestors were trying to convey was lost, as is always the case with such chicanery, amidst the excitement of seeing a live television programme go wrong, and the business of watching how the various presenters sought to extricate themselves from the confusion in an orderly and dignified fashion.
You'll see that a spokesmen for the rabble tried to justify targeting the Lottery by comparing the draw to the process under which fathers seek to gain access to their children through, and I quote, "the secret family courts". Come again? What the hell is the man talking about? He makes it sound like we're all living in some kind Orwellian, or more likely David Icke-ian, totalitarian state. And just how does the random drawing of balls in order to raise money for charity and make a few people very rich equate with a parent's ability or inability to argue a rational case for access to their child?
Thankfully, the spouting of such bollocks merely accelerates still further the organisation's slide into ridicule. Any serious point to be made about the mechanics behind the operation of family law in the UK continues to get lost in the brouhaha whipped up by the means Fathers 4 Justice employ to seek their end. Meanwhile I like how Eamonn sounded so alarmed when he spoke of how he thought the men were out "to destroy the lottery machines." Heaven help us all were a plastic sphere and some ping pong balls ever to fall victim to the half-arsed machinations of a few pissed off dads.
posted by Alistair Myles at 11:34 am
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