Amber Rudd: My Struggle II
In my first speech to conference as Home Secretary I wanted to leave my own personal stamp on proceedings by putting my foot down with a positive hand. I believe I achieved this goal and several other goals, of which I shall come to later when I can remember them fully.
First of all I’d like to say that there’s been a lot of scaremongering following my announcement that there’s to be a crackdown on layabout scrounging foreigners who take up all the poorly-paid, 70-hour-a-week jobs which British workers don’t want to do because they’re in the bookies, on a gap year in Thailand or doing Media Studies at the University of Crawley.
Anyway, my plan to crackdown on foreign workers is tough on the causes of mass immigration and tough on the causes of something else ( I haven't quite thought of anything but I'll get back to you). Of all The tough crackdowns undertaken by this government, this one’s the toughest, hardest, nuttiest and crumbliest. Why do we need it? I hear you ask. Well it’s simple, really. The previous administration (not the previous one - that was us as well - but the one before that) let over 1,976,000 immigrants into Dover alone. This means that we are now full up to the brim and cannot possibly let anyone else in - especially if they're wearing jeans and trainers.
Although concentrating our attention on the weak, hungry, impoverished and desperate may appear cruel and heartless, what you have to remember is this: I’m a total psychopath, so I’m totally impervious to the white noise of suffering. Someone has to do something, and I’m that someone. Recently,however, I’ve received some vicious criticism from people who’ve compared our policy making to theories extolled in Adolf Hitler’s prize-winning, best-selling Mein Kampf. I have to say I find this very hurtful – plagiarism is a very serious charge to have levelled against you. If there’s a similarity between Mr Hitler’s paperback and my pamphlet, well that’s just tough titty – sue me.
One of the major problems we face in this country we call Great England is the fact we’ve never really had a conversation about immigration. Saying that, I did have a conversation about it with the man who built our extension – that’s the extension we had rebuilt by a Polish man after it fell down and crushed my Imelda Marcos bust. Anyway, I can’t remember exactly what the original British builder said, but the general gist of it was the fact he was sick and tired of foreigners coming over here, taking our jobs, and doing them to the exact specification and not disappearing to do other jobs whenever they felt like it.
Anyway, apart from Nigel Farage raising the subject every week on Question Time, and the mass media constantly obsessing about it, we never seem to have a proper, grown-up conversation about immigration. The time has come to put this right by having that conversation – and not just a walk and talk or a stop and chat, but a serious conversation with a cup of tea and a slice of sponge cake I made earlier.
So the message is this: British jobs for British workers; British redundancies for British workers and British dead-end zero-hour contract jobs for British workers. British Industry needs a shot in the arm, and by golly we’re going to deliver that shot. To show we mean business, I’m heading up an exciting pilot scheme over the next few months. We’ll be asking zoo keepers in the UK to make a list of foreign animals working for them, box them up in crates and send them back to where they came from. Why should an African Elephant be doing the job of an English Elephant? Why should a Siberian Tiger be taking the raw meat from the mouth of a Scottish Tiger? And last but not least, what business does a Siamese Fighting Fish have pocketing flakes of food sprinkled in the aquarium of Welsh Fighting Fish?