I just sent a very important email to Keir Starmer, supposed leader of this green and pleasant land. You can do that, y’know? You can send him your thoughts and enquiries and pleas for common sense and general reviews of his performance as PM to keir.starmer.mp@parliament.uk
Obviously I am in no way suggesting that everyone should get in touch with him to let him know what a piss poor job he’s doing but you could if you wanted. That’s up to you though. Nothing to do with me. I’m not endorsing such actions, is my point. Legally. I would if I were you but that’s me. You do you, boo.
Anyways, I reached out to my ol’ buddy Keir to let him know that I think he’s doing a lousy job as leader and to put forward a little proposal that might help…
TO: keir.starmer.mp@parliament.uk
FROM: al-vimh@al-vimh.net
SUBJECT: Feedback and proposal regarding changes to social security
For the urgent attention of the Prime Minister of the UK.
That’s you, Keir. Just to remind you. You were elected to this position of power and it’s your job now to do your best for this country and her people, right?
Quick performance review. Not good, Keir. Not looking good. If you were on a three month probation i’d be nudging the head of recruitment and sketching out a Help Wanted sign. Still, you’ve got the job and we’re stuck with you for a while yet so I decided to reach out in hopes that you can help me with something that I feel very much falls in line with your recent changes to social security.
I’m disabled. Knackered would be a better term. I was born with a condition called Talipes Equinovarus, better known as “clubfoot”. Mine was severe and at birth both of my feet were turned inwards and upwards. I’ve had numerous surgeries which have failed to correct the issue and one which has made it actively worse. My consultant when I lived in Somerset attempted a triple fusion operation and having later moved to my family seat in Scotland, a Glasgow consultant asked me “who the hell did this” to me and noted it as “a good example of what you don’t do to a person” so…wee bit wonky.
I’ve been left with a permanent partial subluxation of the right ankle, what’s left of the joint is always in a state of partial dislocation and can collapse on me at any given moment. My pain is a 10 on a good day and is constant. No reprieve whatsoever. This has led to osteoarthritis in both feet, both knees and both hips which hurts all day, every day. My back is a knotted mass of agony, my head always throbs with tension headaches and referred pain. I’m sore, Keir. Sore and tired.
My smorgasbord of physical issues has, along with assorted life events and spicy chemicals that float around my brain, led to severe depression and anxiety. I’m borderline suicidal, socially anxious and have chronic insomnia. This is all confirmed by doctors, don’t you worry your silly little head about all this “faking” waffle you’re spouting of late.
Throw in type two diabetes, horrendous tinnitus and a few other little bits and bobs and I am essentially a big pile of ouch and argh and for some years now I’ve been completely unable to work in the general job market.
That being said, I try. I’m listed as self employed and use my skills from the bygone days when I could just about struggle to an office environment for a nine to five to offer myself to the public as an IT consultant, working mostly with web development. If I manage to take on a client, I list my earnings in my Universal Credit journal but Keir me old sausage, I’ve made sod all for years. I don’t have the energy or focus to build a business and stick to sociable hours for work. I spend days at a time barely able to raise a smile, let alone drag myself from my bed and suffer through constant agony to knock out a site for the local Women’s Institute. I’m tired, Keir. I’m sick and tired and you, friend, are making it a thousand times worse.
You’re babbling on, you and your hateful cronies, about people being able to get back into work under the right circumstances. I’ve seen gods-awful abuse online directed by red faced loons, spitting out nonsense like “You’re typing online mate which means you can type in an office, get a job”, while their last brain cells drown in Stella Artois and acidic bias. You have absolutely no idea what it is like to live in the real world, droning on from a position of extreme privilege and always punching down. Like I said, you’re scoring low on the performance review but fear not, i’m here to help.
You need a win. A success story. You need to prove that given the right set of circumstances, the most vulnerable in our society can rejoin the work force and positively impact the economy. I volunteer, you confused little bundle of misconceptions. I’m your guy. All I need is for you to sign off on a few things to get me back in the game.
1. I need £250,000. I’ve worked out that this will allow me to put back a chunk of change which will cover my monthly bills and costs for a good decade or so and rip me from the government teat. You slap a cool quarter million in my bank account today and I will sign a document that prohibits me from seeking any assistance from Universal Credit or any subsequent, similar system that you or your Tory buddies put into place. You’re not touching my ADP, it’s not means tested and frankly I had to fight so ludicrously hard to get it that i’m not letting go of it without a fight but Universal Credit and the like? I’ll sign a contract that puts that out of reach for a period no less than ten years.
2. I won’t be looking to the existing job market. A cursory glance at information from the office of statistics say there are roughly 800,000 jobs available right now almost double that number of folk fighting for those positions. That’s just using the numbers from those claiming social security while seeking work, without adding people like me who are incapable of work so…nah. That doesn’t make sense at all, me ol’ pudding. Instead, I will use the safety net of the £250k in the bank to cover my monthly bills, pay off any small amount of debt that I’ve accrued and invest in items and infrastructure that I require to be able to work within my chosen field, at my chosen hours, as and when I am well enough to do so. You want us cripples to get to work, that’s how it has to be and I need your John Hancock on a wee bit of paper acknowledging that. Not for any legal reason, but just to show that you actually understand the enormity of the claims you’ve made in front of the world.
3. I want an apology. From you. I want you to tell me that you realise how hurtful your words have been. I want you to accept and apologise for the damage you’ve done to me and thousands like me who are terrified of what’s to become of us under the hapless ham fist of Labour. I want you to look me in the eyes and say “Mr McLellan, I completely understand now that our broad, sweeping statements fail to allow for the nuances of real life. I appreciate the enormous task that is getting out of bed in the morning when every joint in your body burns like fire and you’re wondering if it would be better to just end it all, given that the people in charge of the country show utter contempt for you and your disabled compatriots. I beg your forgiveness, Mr McLellan. Yours and that of your fellow citizens who struggle each and every day with mental and physical illness and with the tremendous emotional toll that goes with that. I am sorry.”
An apology, Keir. You owe me and every other person in this country that you’ve lacerated with words.
So, three little things. An amount of money that you could sign off without breaking a sweat, a little support with working on my terms and a quick sorry. That’s not asking much.
You do those things and I will tell the whole of the UK that yes, Labour are right. Given an extremely specific set of circumstances tailored exactly to my needs, I was able to step away from the Universal Credit system and seek new opportunities to earn my own living.
I look forward to hearing from you, just let me know who to send my bank details and make sure my signed affidavit and apology are on headed paper ok chief?
Hugs and kisses,
James McLellan (Useless cripple according to you and your party pals)
I’m sure i’ll hear something back before long, right?
