Freedom of Speech; The BNP, remember them?

Hands up who remembers the BNP? Old Nick Wassisface on Question Time, a very real fear that they were going to get seats in Parliament, former NF boot-boys sitting on local councils. Nice and easy for anti-fascists. These characters liked nothing better than shouting stupid shit and winding up Muslim sympathisers. Simpler times.

Wassisface got booted out of the club-house – after a speech suggesting that the party go on a scrap metal drive to raise funds. A few of them probably joined the English Defence League, who provide hunting opportunities throughout the year for SWP members, maybe a couple are going to turn up in UKIP.

Nick was one of those irritating idiots who end up being justified not by their own opinions (he was fruit loops, anyway), but by the over-reaction of the opposition. When he was on Question Time, anti-racists stormed the BBC and demanded that he be given no platform. Luckily, the BBC gave him a platform, which he fell off and began the descent into obscurity.

Letting the BNP have their moment worked. Freedom of Speech undermined them. That's not to discount the activities of the protesters – they get their freedom too – but extremists tend to implode when they get attention. The distorted, even wicked philosophy gets exposed, and the Great Threat to Democracy can't do much more than bemoan the lack of coach trips to the countryside, because Muslims.

Hopefully, UKIP will go the same way – but calling them fascists is a bit rich. They have one clear policy (the EU is a bad idea), which is looking more intelligent to leftists after the Greek crisis, a load of racist nonsense (trying to pick up on Islamophobia, mostly) and a free market mentality. What they don't have is the eugenic pessimism of the Nazis, and they even allow gay people to have their own caucus. They are not fascists. They are more like a bad satire on a political party.

Dancing Nazis and a 16 Tonne World War 2 Tank Upstage UKIP Party Conference

The Traditional Circus makes a comeback

It has been said that satire died the day that Kissinger won the Nobel Peace Prize, but UKIP's Traditional Circus Roadshow has become a handy reminder that British humour has always balanced on the razor's edge between sea-side postcard sauciness and anti-establishment vitriol. Taking their name from a pair of radical live artists, The Kippers are bringing back the beloved clowns of the English circus and adding a rough hewn acrobatic energy.

Moving away from the Big Top was a bold move, but TCR has

Private Eye wins

become a roving side-show, heading to towns that have not seen such tomfoolery since the 1970s. Their use of venues more commonly associated with political discussions serves as a reminder that most parliaments have become rest-homes for the delirious, a sanctuary for men who would otherwise be shouting about conspiracies on the corner of Glasgow's Sauchiehall Street and smelling of sweat and piss. And in a culture defined by the short, sharp snatch of soundbites and Youtube, The Kippers recognise that 'street theatre' needs not be invisible nor undocumented.

The ringmaster, Nigel Farage, announces the circus open by arriving in an aeroplane, which swiftly crashes into a field. This integration of the spectacular and the absurd reveals a sensitivity to the importance of Hollywood Blockbusters, giving the audience a big banf before the action has even begun. Less successfully, the attempt to explain immigration through the old 'too many clowns in the car trick' fails, mainly because the clowns forgot to read the instruction manual to make the doors fall off properly.

The magic of TCR is the post-modern pastiche and collage of out-dated genres: Mike Read tries to appropriate the calypso in a revival of the aesthetic from The Black and White Minstrels, while the MEP for Scotland recalls Frankie Howerd's self-deprecating monologues, apparently forgetting his lines. Farage himself picks up on Charlie Chaplin's memorable impersonation of Hitler, but adds his own twist: his speeches use totalitarian rhetorical techniques to challenge totalitarian power. It a meta-layer worthy of Ontroerend Goed.

Like Gravy Trains? Get to the Fringe

Part of the magic of theatre is its ability to bring people together. Despite having an intrinsic distrust of UKIP (because of the immigration rhetoric and the general cod-libertarian capitalism of their policies), I feel that the Edinburgh Fringe might help mend the broken bridge of friendship between the arts and that bloke who got elected a couple of months ago (I can't remember his name - it's a bit early in the morning).

So, here's the first VileArts dedicated pick of the Fringe, especially for that bloke.


Bad Boys: Whisky Theatre
This is happening in Jenners, on Princes Street, in the food hall, so I am sure politicians who protest the European gravy train will have no problems finding it. Promising to be more than 'tartan and kilts,' it's got some whisky tasting bits, so that ought to set the audience up nicely for moving onto the next show, slightly pissed.

The Big Bite Size Breakfast Show
One to start the day at the Pleasance Dome: there will be some plays (three different menus of ten minute quickies) but there will also be coffee, croissants and strawberries. It starts at half ten, so if the previous day's whisky tasting went a bit wrong, he can still make it. It might also allow a bit of time to look up some of those dastardly regulations the EU has imposed on something or another.

Burger Van
Oddly, this is not happening on a grubby street corner but in the Phones 4U shop. I think he'd like this one, because it is in a shop - and I know you love the capitalism, I do - and it is all about the fast food trade. Those burger boys are in the vanguard fighting against the unnecessary hygiene regulations from those fat-cats in Brussels.

Dinner is Swerved
I went to this last year. You eat a meal in the dark. It has the added advantage that you don't have to look at the faces of your dinner companions, although I ended up sitting next to the most boring couple in the world. The food is fun and tasty - it is not really made out of horrible stuff, it is generally pasta with colourings - and I'm sure that the company comply with whatever laws you can't remember about how C Nova has to be presented.

Italia'n'Caledonia
This one turns up at Valvona & Crolla at most Fringes. It is the story of the two men who invented ice cream. Hang on - this might be difficult. They are successful business men but they are foreigns. Moral dilemma for UKIP ahoy...