Why Do I Hate The Tetley Tea Folks?


Tetley Tea Folks. That’s right. The Tetley faux-Northern, fucking uncute Tea Folks with their flat caps and their mediocre beverage made from tea factory floor-sweepings.

I have no idea what went on in the minds of the advertising creatives who, in 1973, decided that the best way to market tea was to invent a group of quasi-gnomes from Keithley.  And why have Tetley kept doggedly re-booting these whippet-bothering bores over a forty year timespan? “The Tetley Tea Folks are back”… “Collect all seven tea folks” … “That’s better, that’s Tetley” … Superhero Teafolks … Medieval Teafolks …

Let’s compare the competitors:

The PG Tips monkey is awesome.

pg tips

The Churchill dog is funny and reminiscent of a popular historical figure who won a war.


That Russian meerkat is cute and has an even cuter baby meerkat. Nailed it.


As for the sexy Cadbury’s Caramel bunny…


So, now the tea folk are back (again) with a completely superfluous superhero rebooting:

superhero teafolk

What with tea being one of the biggest growth areas in the food and drink industry at the moment, Tetley are keen to cash in.  But the growth in tea is all about diversification and choice. Which might be what is so jarring about the Tea Folk.

The food and beverage industry encourages us to decide between decaf monkey-picked single-plantation white tea and detoxing vanilla-scented chai, while the Tetley Tea Folk come from a world where the only choice is “mug or cup, love?”.

Is it because I am a liberal, urban, bourgeoise semi-hipster that I cannot abide the Tea Folk? Perhaps their real-ness and Northern-ness throws my own inauthenticity into relief. Do I subconsciously long for the girl I used to be: Northern, authentic, working class?

Do these dwarf-like harbingers of sentimentality remind me that I have betrayed my Yorkshire roots for the glamour of the cosmopolitain elite?

Facebook’s Election Reaction


I never delete people on Facebook for holding opinions that are different from mine.  As an advocate of free speech, I welcome comments from lunatics, ‘KIPpers and even Tories (Of course, the first two are far from mutually exclusive).

In spite of all that, my Facebook feed around election time reminds me how much I have surrounded myself with woolly, liberal do-gooding pinko space cadets like myself.

To take an arbitrary example, no fewer than 33 of my FB friends “like” the Green Party.  Conversely, not a single one of my friends “likes” the Conservative Party.

So, it should have come as no surprise today that my Facebook news feed reads like a Euripidean tragedy.  Between gnashing of teeth, pulling of hair and crying into gluten-free yofu muesli, we had:

“I’m so, so sad”


“I can’t believe it.  Devastated.”

Then I realised:  We need to stop being unhappy.  In every country of the world, including even formerly socialist places like Sweden, corporate control has made politics redundant.  What you do or don’t do at the ballot box pales into insignificance compared with what you buy, where you bank and how you spend your time.  We still have the power as consumers and (non-)workers to change the world should we wish to.

I voted Green and then went to Tescos on the way home and bought bacon and used their free plastic bags.  That makes me as deluded and confused as the working class people who vote for ultra-capitalist UKIP.

Similarly, those people who are moaning about the election results, yet continuing to work for global companies whilst taking out credit cards and loans to buy shit they don’t need that’s been made in sweatshops from conflict minerals by third world slaves are just as hypocritical as me.

On a global scale, we are the 1%.  We blame the Tories, but don’t realise that it is us, yes you and me who are the enemy….

The reason “they” have it all is that we all want what they have. It’s called false consciousness.  The only way out of this mess is to create a system with values other than “their” values.

Those who are too chicken shit to consider a sustainable, anti-growth economic model may as well just quit moaning and get out there and make some money.

Liked this?  Now read: Whatever happened to the leisure society?

The Curious Case Of The Polish Man Who Lived In My Shed

“Did someone just go into the shed?” asked my housemate.

We walked over to the shed and opened the door. A man came out. He was wearing a boiler suit: The uniform from the Mini factory down the road. “What are you doing?” we asked. “Sleeping,” said the man in the shed. He had an Eastern European accent and was clean-shaven. He obviously had a job, but must have been ‘between houses’ at the moment. My husband said “I’m really sorry, but you can’t sleep here.”

The man left.

A few days later, I could have sworn the shed door was at a different angle from the way it had been the night before.

The next day, I looked at the shed door again. It had definitely moved. The lawn was growing longer now that spring was here and there was a path in the grass where our shed lodger had been walking. He must have been coming in and out during the night while we were asleep.

Should I tell my husband and housemate? We should probably lock the shed to prevent our visitor from coming back. Maybe we could corner the guy and ask him for some minimal rent?  Perhaps he could mow the lawn.

I had a pang of conscience. The homeless guy wasn’t causing any kind of nuisance. Other than breaking local council regulations on beds in sheds. For now, I would keep quiet.

But my daily shed vigil continued. Each morning, the door was in a slightly different position and the path in the grass was even more pronounced.

Yesterday, I told my husband and housemate. We went into the shed and found a sleeping bag, a small bag of clothes and a couple of books. We bought a padlock from Fred’s hardware store over the road, locked the shed and put the meagre belongings under the gazebo on the lawn.

This morning, the bag of clothes and sleeping bag had gone.

So we carry on with our lives. Me writing articles about homelessness for the compassion research centre website while my husband looks at properties to buy on Rightmove.

Oxford: The Least Affordable City in the UK (Again).

So, the latest figures show that Oxford has again received the dubious accolade of being the most expensive city in the UK to buy a house.

Anna White’s daily Telegraph article here more or less sums it up.

It has occurred to me that one of the primary reason of this statistic is that wages in academia are in free fall, with so much work being done by junior academics and Post-Grads.

The article I wrote on the subject gives a pretty decent overview/explanation for those interested:


Pulp: Life, Death, Supermarkets and Cultural Appropriation

The view of Sheffield presented in the documentary film Pulp: Life, Death and Supermarkets is hopelessly out of date and serves as a reminder that maybe Jarvis and co. were always guilty of cultural appropriation.

The man with no teeth who sits in the newspaper kiosk is a Pulp fan, apparently. I’m sure he likes nothing nothing better than to go home after a hard day’s shouting “uuuueeeehwooom” (meaning ‘late Star’) and stick on Bar Italia before settling down to a double Corrie omnibus. The two old ladies who drag their shopping trollies around Castle Market are also Jarvis fans, we are told. Do they file their Pulp CDs next to Cabaret Voltaire or Scott Walker, I wonder? Is it Pulp’s pithy social commentary and wry witticisms they like, or is it their masterly portrayal of suburban ennui through references to the detritus of 70s modernity? Or is it because the band are famous and from Sheffield and sound a bit like Bryan Ferry?

Either way, I’m pretty sure Jarvis had a small sex wee when he discovered that Mavis was a fan. Because, although Pulp like to revel in faux-working class nostalgia, they are not a working class band, either in terms of fan-base or band members’ cultural heritage. So finding out that real Sheffielders like them must have been a dream come true.

Jarvis and his sister Saskia, yes – Saskia, grew up in the biggest house in Intake. It had a walled garden and an annex. In fact, their family owned most of the row of shops at Intake. Jarvis’ Mum was – and may still be, for all I know – a Tory councillor. Jarvis went to Central St Martins Art school. He now lives in Paris. Choosing to become an expat in France rather than Spain should have rung an alarm bell for anyone who was labouring under the gross misapprehension that proper Sheff lads go on to form Art-Pop-Electronic bands.

Of course, it was the northern accent that did it. As soon as someone speaks with anything other than RP, they are immediately able to carve out a career as denizens of working class culture, defenders of the Common People. The music press – especially in the 90s – were falling over themselves to lionize anyone who had ever had a Saturday job in a supermarket or drunk a pint of mild. Claiming to have holidayed in Butlins as a child was more or less a guaranteed Number 1 single. Blur pretended to like football and dog racing for a while, but were pretty quickly outed as mockneys and decided to open cheese shops in GlocestershirePulp were similarly pseudo, more northern manqué than northern monkey.

Even though prior to Common People, Jarvis had made a career out of lampooning and parodying the social mores of the working classes, nobody ever questioned his sincerity. Think of Joyriders: “we’re so thick we can’t think/can’t think of anything but shit, sleep and drink”, Mishapes: “What’s the point of being rich if you can’t think what to do with it? ‘Cause you’re so bleedin’ thick…” and I Spy “My favourite park’s a car park, grass is something you smoke, birds is something you shag / Take your year in Provence and shove it up your arse”. The lyrics of these songs are a confrontational assault on Chav mentality, or on “Townies”, as we used to scornfully call them in Sheffield in those days.

In Pulp: Life Death and Supermarkets, Sheffield is portrayed as if it is still 1984. As if the miners are still on strike and Castle Market is still the place for knicker elastic. As if the overpowering smell of salt, vinegar, diesel and urine still lingers in the air on Pond St. As if the Forum and Meadowhall have never been built. As if a gallon of Magnet and a packet of Woodbines are all we need to take away the pain of our meaningless lives of unending drudgery, rainy saturdays and dripping sandwiches.

Life, Death and Supermarkets is nostalgia for a world where Tony Blair hasn’t schmoozed with Oasis whilst systematically dismantling Socialism. Where football hasn’t become the preserve of Arab billionaires and £40 ticket holders. Where Sheffield doesn’t have pulled pork, flat whites and an Apple store just like everywhere else.

Life, Death and Supermarkets is a lie within a lie. It is recuperation, cultural appropriation. It is class pornography. It is Benefits Street. It is the fetishisation and theft of authentic working class identity. The viewers’ gaze, our gaze, feasts on a northern fantasy. A fantasy where poor people are able to escape shitty towns by writing songs about supermarkets. A world where working class people even like Indie music.

How The Media Reacted To Charlie Hebdo

Image: Surian Soosay (Flickr)

Image: Surian Soosay (Flickr)

The media reaction – both through official and unofficial channels – to the news in France has made fascinating reading and viewing over the last few days and has run the full gamut of political opinion.

Progressive media like Films For Action took the line that we should treat this tragedy like any other killing spree.  Here’s an excerpt from the Films For Action article:

“What happened today, according to current reports, is that two men went on a killing spree. Their killing spree, like most killing sprees, will have some thin rationale. Even the worst villains believe themselves to be heroes. But in truth, it was unprovoked slaughter. The fault lies with no one but them and their accomplices. Their crime isn’t explained by cartoons or religion. Plenty of people read Charlie Hebdo’s cartoons and managed to avoid responding with mass murder. Plenty of people follow all sorts of religions and somehow get through the day without racking up a body count. The answers to what happened today won’t be found in Charlie Hebdo’s pages. They can only be found in the murderers’ sick minds.”

It is an unfortunate internal contradiction of the West that freedom has to include the freedom to not believe in freedom.  But how much any society can tolerate intolerant people remains to be seen.  An unusually wide range of views was given oxygen, including those uncomfortable right wing views which tend to be suppressed on things like the Channel 4 News.

This all gives credence to the idea that freedom of the press is something worth preserving.

Mic.com’s Mark Cogan wore his metaphorical “Je suis Charlie” badge with pride, in this article, saying

“The events of Wednesday remind us of the striking fact that at least 66 journalists were killed in 2014, many for daring to express unpopular or dangerous ideas, to speak truth to power and to tell the stories that powerful institutions around the world, from terror groups to transnational corporates, would rather not have told. Now more than ever is the time to stand forcefully against those who seek to silence criticism or expression through violence and terror.”

Perhaps the most interesting perspective – and one which has been given very little coverage is the view from inside Islam.  Most notably, the tensions between the moderate and fundamentalist strains of the religion and how they view each other.  A really good explanation of this can be found on Juan Cole’s blog here.  The basic crux of his argument goes:

“…in polling, only a third, less than 2 million, say that they are interested in religion. French Muslims may be the most secular Muslim-heritage population in the world (ex-Soviet ethnic Muslims often also have low rates of belief and observance). Many Muslim immigrants in the post-war period to France came as laborers and were not literate people, and their grandchildren are rather distant from Middle Eastern fundamentalism, pursuing urban cosmopolitan culture such as rap and rai. In Paris, where Muslims tend to be better educated and more religious, the vast majority reject violence and say they are loyal to France. Al-Qaeda wants to mentally colonize French Muslims, but faces a wall of disinterest. But if it can get non-Muslim French to be beastly to ethnic Muslims on the grounds that they are Muslims, it can start creating a common political identity around grievance against discrimination. This tactic is similar to the one used by Stalinists in the early 20th century.”

Further insight into the Muslim mindset was voiced by Catherine Guilyardi on this Al Jazeera news piece.  Catherine says that everyone – Muslim and Non-Muslim – need to unite against Fascism.

“Fascism is the rejection of people who are not like me and do not believe like I believe… The Middle East is the first victim of this fascism with what is happening with Daesh (ISIS)”

Clearly, yesterday’s news threw into relief the fact that we in Europe and the Middle East are currently grappling with the question of how much intolerance we can tolerate.

The most important thing about all the media hype is to not get caught up in the frenzy.  Ten people will die in car accidents today in France, but the TV will not have special reports into car death.  Or heart disease.  Or cancer.  It’s also interesting to note that not a single newspaper or TV report I’ve seen asks the question of why these men have Kalashnikovs lying around.  If this had been a white-on-white killing, the news would have been dominated by gun regulation chatter.

The incident is being used by lots of people to further their own agenda, be it liberal, fascist or something in between.  For all its intelligent or interesting analysis, the media is a spectacle.  The best way to react to all of this might be to turn off your TV and be good to the people around you.

Oh, Look! Anarchists Have Vandalised The Tube

It appears that London’s commuters have been attacked by anarchists telling them they need to stop working.

#bullshitjobs is a hashtag (Image: Twitter)

#bullshitjobs is a hashtag (Image: Twitter)

For those struggling to live and pay rent in the world’s most expensive city, those posters probably won’t cut much mustard.

However, the posters are indeed correct.

Revolution will only happen the day the working class realize they don’t have to work. It is only work which makes someone working class.

Socialists (as opposed to anarchists) on the other hand, are convinced that jobs are a great thing.  They hold miners’ strikes and march for the ‘right to work’.  Which means that Marxism might not be the best hope for the poor after all.

I wrote a blog about this a while ago, which explains all this. It’s here, if you haven’t already read it.

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