You have to laugh at some of the current terminology used by the National Health Service in describing job cuts.

Downsizing, staff rationalisation, ratio reduction, cost saving efficiencies, market lean workforce and effective staff redeployment (to the dole office) are just a few examples of management speak which allow the masters of the universe to think of us all as jelly beans and  potato chips. Where is ‘V’ when we need him?

 

Smiling health minister Andrew Lansley puts the knife in the National Health Service. Who needs the Grim Reaper when you’ve got this snowy haired rider of the apocalypse riding roughshod over a national institution. 

 

The general public seems blissfully unaware that the Conservative, sorry, Coalition Government is privatising the National Health Service.

Health minister Andrew Lansley has agreed to the abolition of primary care trusts in favour of handing the financial reins to GP consortia by 2013. This train has already left the station.

I’m sure most people aren’t aware that GPs aren’t NHS employees but privately-run businesses that trusts pay to treat local people.

It would be naive to think that clinicians can’t be as self-serving and devisive as anyone else , especially when the Government has said that GPs who perform well will be financially rewarded.

So, we are giving these private businesses billions of pounds of public money to, no doubt, employ other private sector companies at the cost of thousands of NHS jobs and further line their pockets.

I’m not blinkered enough to see that there isn’t huge duplication and wastage in primary care trusts and their top heavy management structures but at least they were impartial and could impose performance targets on GP practices.

Margaret Thatcher must be putting on her glad rags and shaking out the blue rinse bottle at the prospect of David Cameron and Co. finishing off her handiwork. I can feel a 1980s revival coming

 

It’s a sad day when Disney’s top ten list of pantomime villains out scares a recent cinema top 50 featuring old popcorn shakers like sex telephonist Darth Vader, the shark from Jaws and Ming the Merciless.

All manner of axe wielding maniac stagger across the screen these days with all the panache of production line food blenders.

Some try to inject gravitas and RADA training into proceedings like Raulph ‘I was rogered by Olivier’ Fiennes and his sock mumbling performance as Harry Potter nemesis Voldemort.

Others try and scare us with fava beans, bad hair cuts and even badder accents (we love you really Dolph. Just don’t do any more speaking parts).

What we need is some cerebral uber nasty who is preferably green, of alien origin, hates humans and has no redeeming features.

Enter comic book hero Dan Dare’s arch foe the Mekon, ousted leader of the Treens of Northern Venus (see poster above).

Brilliant! You couldn’t come up with anything better on an acid trip. And it gets even better.  He is a genetically engineered monster whose body has atrophied to accommodate his huge melon sized head.

His primary mode of transport is a levitating chair that new health minister Andrew Lansley has reputedly bought the rights to in order to sack hospital orderlies.

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