Faking it - and other f words.

Oh dearie me, what is the world coming to? We've got governments faking intelligence reports, politicians faking it, TV and production companies faking it, the NHS (and probably other public services) massaging figures and now, to top it all, we've got fake Yardies.

I'm talking about the situation with yobs and thugs on bikes, which were it not so tragic would be laughable. In America they do death, guns and mobsterism with a certain panache, and in the right hands it makes good viewing in dramas and films, not least because the baddies always get slotted in the end. In America in real life you end up with a real death, probably because the cop's training films are based on Dirty Harry - "You feeling lucky today punk? Too bad. Bang". Over there, the villains roar around in 6 litre racing cars, caring little for global warming, and if pinged start a car chase that wipes out thousands of dollars' worth of property and the mayor hands out commendations like confetti.

Meanwhile, back in good old Blighty, our young thugs, driven to distraction by diminishing council rubbish tips, fat-free burgers and not having the latest Ipod, shoot or stab someone and race away on bicycles, probably adorned with those handlebar ribbony things and bits of card stuck on the wheel spokes. If potted they'll claim some massive disadvantage, like only ever having 5 fathers and a 52 inch plasma bedroom TV, bleating that "dat boo-oy wit da black eighty tree Fiesta fra' de Mandela estate dissed me innit; an' anyways, I got da Hay Dee Haitch Dee, ya kno' wha' am sayn?". Social Services and defence counsel will blame everyone else and the murderous little shits'll get 2 months community service where they'll case their next series of aggravated burglaries. Oh, for Christ's sake, where's Harry when you need him?