"Dip, dip, dog shit, you are not it!" Or how to vote in tomorrow's EU referendum...

I think the entire EU debate has been shameful, particularly the last few days, as the 'in' campaign – aided and abetted by the BBC – has used the murder of Jo Cox MP as a reason for us all to remain in the EU. Alright, not as a 'reason' to remain, but they've certainly tried to make political capital out of it and establish connections between the murderer and the more extreme ends of the Brexit following.

But that was the most recent development; what I can't stand about the entire in/out campaign is the way that the remain camp has steadfastly refused to accept that immigration – a key issue in the eyes of the voting public – cannot be reduced if we remain in the EU. I hate the way that they weedle out of the question and I hate the way that the BBC refuses (often) to take them back to the question, leaving the person who asked the question high and dry.

Bojo and Dodgy Dave – two complete wankers!

Let's look at the Brexit Brigade, especially at last night's big debate in Wembley, where they all continued their quest of brainwashing the public by the constant repetition of the phrase, 'let's take back control'. It's quite obvious that somebody, somewhere, sat them down, came up with the phrase and told them to keep saying it, like in 2010 when the Tories didn't stop going on and on about the mess they'd inherited from the Labour Party.

What about the lies of Boris Johnson, the deception behind the £350 million and other stuff that simply isn't true? In all honesty I don't know where I stand. I've always been keen on remaining in the EU – along the lines of 'the better the devil you know' – but my recent purchase of Noam Chomsky's Who Rules the World? has changed my view a little bit. The fact that 'the establishment' – and I'm talking globally now – abhors true democracy unless it meets with their social and economic objectives is worth thinking about. The American establishment often talks about 'the world' in the sense that 'the world agrees that X, Y and Z...' but 'the world', argues Chomsky, is basically the US and the UK – likewise the 'international community'.

The US, for example, doesn't want true democracy in the Middle East because it knows that the vast majority of the Arab people are against the Americans, it's only the elite in the region who say everything is fine where the Americans are concerned (and that's all to do with money).

So, back to the EU, which Chomsky also believes has no interest in real democracy – look at the way Greece has been treated, he argues, but also look at the whole 'unelected officials' element of the EU and how TTIP has been negotiated behind closed doors and how Cecilia Malmstrom (the chief TTIP negotiator who is unelected) has told the media that she does not take her mandate from the European people. No, she takes her mandate from corporate lobbyists.

To quote Chomsky from Who Rules the World? "As long as the general population is passive, apathetic, and diverted to consumerism or hatred of the vulnerable, then the powerful can do as they please, and those who survive will be left to contemplate the outcome."

The above quote is very important, especially where the EU referendum is concerned. With real unemployment at depression levels, says Chomsky, the bankers are getting richer and richer and if they mess up they can always rely upon the taxpayer to bail them out. But to keep the public away from the truth – that wealth is concentrated in the hands of the top one per cent of the population (think CEOs and hedge fund managers) – diversions are required to keep the masses 'subdued'.

Teachers, says Chomsky, are always fair game, but so are immigrants, especially at times of economic crisis. It is important for the establishment to create in the populous a sense that 'our country is being taken away from us' – think, "Let's Make Great Britain Great Again' – and the idea that the white population will soon become a minority.

As Chomsky argues, "One can understand the anger of aggrieved individuals, but the cruelty of the policy is shocking."

And then remember that the remain campaign has been backed by the big banks and that the whole idea of free borders is designed to encourage immigration and keep wages low in the process. In short, I've started to view the EU in a different light.

Caroline Lucas (the Green Party) annoyed me last night (on the big Wembley debate) – and again, nobody questioned what she was saying. She said that open borders work both ways and argued that it was amazing how we can all up sticks at any time and work anywhere in the EU! Wow! Well, not true. Most people in this country are restrained by one thing – language.

We often hear people talk about a 'United States of Europe' as if the idea is for us to be like US citizens, capable of moving from state-to-state, should they so wish, and work and live somewhere else. Fine in the USA where everybody speaks the same language, but not in the EU, I would argue.

I'm a magazine editor, theoretically I don't need an office. I could work anywhere in the EU, but only if I was merely working remotely from the office in the UK. I couldn't move to Paris and work in, say, a McDonald's because I don't speak French and would come unstuck pretty quickly. So, yes, I could move around the EU, but I wouldn't be able to work in the EU. Conversely, most Europeans speak English so them coming here to the UK is a no-brainer – better money, better conditions and so on.

I'm wondering what to do on Thursday. I can't say I like the personalities involved on either side of the debate. I think David Cameron has let himself down in a big way and shown his true colours, that of somebody who simply cannot be trusted. If we vote out, I hope he goes. But equally, the lies on the Brexit side of the argument and the likes of Boris Johnson and Nigel Farage all make me think: do I really want to vote for something that they (Johnson and company) believe in? Equally, do I want to support something supported by Cameron and Osborne? Why should I trust the EU? Why should I support the EU when it's supported by people like Soros, Branson and so on? They are the rich elite, and they want me and my fellow citizens to accept lower wages so that they can make a bigger profit – that's why they want to remain in the EU. But then do I want to support the out campaign that is supported by right wing extremists? I'm tempted not to vote at all or simply go to the booth, pick up a pencil and then, holding it in my right hand, start to chant out loud: "Dip, dip, dog shit, you are not it."

As the clocks go back...

If time is a winged chariot soaring through outer space, then I was ahead of it on Sunday morning. Despite the fact that, for most people, the clocks going back mean an extra hour in bed, it wasn't to be for me as I woke up ahead of the game. The clock glowing brightly on my bedside table was living in the future and the only reliable piece of time-telling equipment was my iphone, which was downstairs on the console table awaiting its chance to shout out that it was six o'clock and time to get up. But I was way ahead of the game. I turned and looked at the bedside clock and it was something like four o'clock in the morning, which meant it was really an hour earlier, although downstairs in iphone land all was well. I had hoped that I might wake up nearer to 'six am' only to remember that it was really only five am, but no. It was annoying because once awake, it's impossible to get back to sleep. Or rather it's not impossible, I just tend to nod back off about a minute before it's time to get up. And sure enough, the iphone, like that monkey in Toy Story 3, starting making a noise downstairs.

"There's a job for you in the fire escape trade! Come up to town!"

"What's that?"
"Don't worry, it's the iphone. Time to go for a ride."
"What time is it?"
"Well, it's really six o'clock, but it's also seven o'clock."
"What's the real time?"
"Six."
"But it's really seven."
"No, it's six, but yesterday, at this very moment, it was seven o'clock."
"The clocks have gone back."
"Yes."

Why is it that when the clocks go back everyone gets up to 'experience' the thrill of being up at a time when, only 24 hours earlier, it was an hour later than the present? Outside nothing looked any different,   except it was a little darker. It doesn't make any sense but, suddenly, downstairs was blessed with three people rather than just me pottering around silently in the kitchen. The silence was disturbed by Desperate Housewives and I eventually headed for the garage around ten past seven o'clock.

The gears were still playing up, but what was I expecting? That they would cure themselves? That the bike would somehow 'get better'? A trip to the bike shop still beckons in other words.

I sent Andy a text. "Running 10 minutes late" and then made my way towards the green. It was a pleasant day. Not too cold, but dark and grey and looking like rain, although, fortunately, we were spared a soaking.

I should have riden out yesterday, but I had to drive over to Balham (in South London) early in the morning, which was mildly annoying – not that Andy went out and with Phil away on holiday it was only me. Still, it gave me a chance to listen to Radio Four in the car, which was good and for some reason I hadn't put two and two together where the broadcaster and journalist Jay Rayner was concerned: he's Claire Rayner's son. I remember meeting his father, who was a really good artist, but I can't remember the circumstances behind the meeting. I might also have met Claire Rayner too, but I can't remember.

The lake was on the agenda, but...
The plan was to head for the lake and had I not left later and had there not been things to do I would have gone there. It's odd how all three of us – Andy, Phil and myself – have all been to the lake alone but not as a 'team', not since May 2013 (if my memory serves me correctly) when Phil and I rode there. Instead we rode to Westerham and as we roared along the 269 ('puttered' would be a more apt description) a vintage Ferrari was coming the other way. It was green. Rare, says Andy, but I don't give a stuff about cars. They are, for me, and much to Andy's horror, purely a means of getting from A to B. "After a few rides it would be just a dashboard and a windscreen, like any other car, the wipers going back and forth in the rain," I said, dismissively, and Andy threatened to turn around a cycle home.

We rode to Botley and on the B2024 (Clarks Lane) heading for Westerham. It was typical NoVisibleLycra weather – dark skies, the threat of rain, but it was relatively warm. Perfect cycling conditions, we both agreed as we rode into the town centre.

As we sat and drank tea, we also munched biscuits and discussed the case for not making a living out of photography. Well, not so much dismissing it entirely but agreeing that, these days, thanks to digital technology, most people think they're professional photographers and this kind of limits the market for those who take photographs for a living. In editorial circles, the digital revolution means that journalists now double as photographers (and the quality dips considerably as a result), leaving advertising as the only real outlet for the professional photographer. I'm not a photographer, but I know one of the very best, Robert Wilkinson; Andy, on the other hand, would love to make a career out of what is now a hobby. And who can blame him? But, as we both said, it's a tough nut to crack, especially if you're just starting out.

Mounting the bikes we headed out of Westerham and prepared ourselves for Westerham Hill and that long climb towards the Botley Hill Farmhouse. We've run out of ideas on the photography front (hence the shot above of a fire escape in northern England) and decided that new destinations were needed to make our blog images less predictable (shots of the bikes, shots of Churchill's or General Wolfe's statue, shots of us sitting at the bench drinking tea – all very predictable). We discussed the lake, but then realised we'd exhausted it in photography terms and besides, it's just that little bit too far for a Saturday or Sunday morning. That said, we haven't been to Hunger's End for a while or Redhill (and there's plenty of photographic opportunities in Redhill, I can tell you!

The irony of it all!
To take our minds off the hill, we discussed irony. A good example of something that is ironic is Nigel Farage being an MEP,  a Member of the European Parliament. Why? Because Nigel Farage is anti-Europe and wants the UK to come out of Europe – he's causing the Tories a lot of problems at the moment on matters concerning immigration. It's ironic, therefore, that he is an MEP and also quite ridiculous when you consider that if Nigel Farage's UKIP achieves its ultimate objective, Mr Farage will be out of a job!

We then set about distinguishing irony from 'contradictory' and from 'hypocrisy' and it all got a little heavy as we heaved our way up the hill, passing the steps leading to the Tatsfield Churchyard and pressing on past the Tatsfield Bus Stop to the Botley Hill roundabout. Was it hypocritcal of Nigel Farage to be an MEP? Or was there some kind of contradiction involved? Was it a paradox or purely ridiculous? We never really came to any conclusion, but it helped pass the time as we climbed the hill and soon we were riding along the 269 heading North. It was a clear day and from across vast expanses of fields and suburbia, in the distance, but clearly visible, we could see the entire panorama of Central London stretching from West to East and embracing the City of London and Docklands.

Andy left half way along the 269, heading for Wapses Roundabout and another climb, this time into Caterham on the Hill. I carried on towards Warlingham Green, but stopped off briefly to answer the call of nature near the pond at the top of Slines Oak Road. There's a new bike shop opened opposite Warlingham Sainsbury's, selling top-end mountain bikes with obscure brand names I've never heard of before; something tells me this is real pro's shop.

I reached home at just past 10 o'clock and got on with the rest of my Sunday – a pleasant trip to Forest Row for tea and cake and then a browse around what we call 'The Elephant Shop' at Sheffield Park, 10 miles north of Lewes.