Alternative Charities


To live in Guernsey is to be lucky enough to live in one of the safest, cleanest and wealthiest societies in the world.  Despite what you might read in the UK’s inkier papers, we don’t all hide gold-plated suitcases full of Chris Moyles’ money, but we certainly do alright when compared to a lot of other places

We have rich people and poor people like anywhere else, but I can’t remember the last time we were annexed by Russia, plagued by honey badgers or buried underneath an eruption of molten lava.  The most stressful thing that’s happened to Guernsey in the last twelve months is some unusually gusty weather causing M&S to run out of ready meals.  As luck would have it we pulled together as a community, the tide went down and 3-for-2 Spaghetti Carbonara was restocked before the Red Cross needed to get involved.

Our fortunate position makes us a charitable community, from the hardworking families donating their clothes to the Oxfam shop all the way up to the Bentley-driving lords of finance, who selflessly write off hefty donations to donkey sanctuaries against multi-million tax liabilities in Monaco and Antigua.  Charities are so well-publicised in dress-down days, sponsored walks and wacky facial hair challenges that it can be a real challenge to work out in which bucket you should chuck your coins next.

Most people plump for animals (cute and unthreatening), underprivileged children (sympathetic until they grow up) or disease research (hedging your bets), but this has the unfortunate side-effect of diverting attention away from issues that might be less glamorous, but are equally deserving of the £4 you would have otherwise spent on another cup of hot, sugary milk.  Why not alleviate a little more of your first world guilt and throw a few pounds to one of these lesser-known charities?



WORLD WRESTLER FUND World Wrestlers Fund_opt

Before 2002 it was tricky to tell whether the initials WWF symbolised a love of pandas or piledrivers, a confusion which lead to much embarrassment when a mix-up on Blue Peter led to Hulk Hogan being served a basket of Viagra-spiked bamboo whilst Brutus ‘the Barber’ Beefcake was set upon by starving tigers – Jake ‘the Snake’ Roberts wisely maintained a foot in both camps and was later knighted for rescuing John Noakes from Hulkamania running wild on his bottom.  The upshot of this diplomatic bodyslam was that WWF wrestling became the WWE, the World Wildlife Fund carried on keeping an eye on the rhinos, and the world forgot about the plight of those gigantic men too old or sick to continue doing steroids and beating each other with folding chairs. Today, the confusingly-named World Wrestler Fund solicits donations of cash and miss-spelled cardboard signs to help these retired grapplers in their hour of need. A donation of just £5 can buy enough facepaint for Legion of Doom to go to the shops, £10 funds a new kilt for Rowdy Roddy Piper and £35 can rent a video camera so The Iron Sheik can record a rambling threat to break The Ultimate Warrior’s legs.




For generations society has assumed that becoming mean about single parents, paranoid about the EU and racist towards gypsies was an inevitable side effect of ageing, alongside an interest in beige nylon trousers and cruise holidays.  Recent scientific breakthroughs have dramatically proven that this is not the case, and for the first time established a correlation between developing cartoonish right-wing views and the regular consumption of a newspaper that endorsed the British Union of Fascists and thinks that gay marriage caused the global recession.  The dedicated volunteers at NiceNews painstakingly replace the illicit buzz of the Mail’s hysterical articles about social workers and muslims with gentle Radio Times profiles of Anthea Turner, before slowly introducing National Geographic and eventually full-scale substitution with The Guardian. With your support, their success rate in preventing gran from becoming a frothing reactionary is as high as 75%; unfortunately scientific consensus remains that any pensioner already hooked on The Daily Express is beyond hope.




How would you feel if you were a fully-grown woman, afflicted with a genetic condition that made you resemble a small Scottish boy? There’s no punchline to this joke, because it’s the true story of people who grow up with the rare and incurable condition of Krankieism, caused by a terrible mutation of the Fandabidozi gene.  The work of the Krankie society carries out medical research into this little-known disorder, as well as related light entertainment conditions such as Mallet’s Mallet, Crinkly Bottom and Chegwin Syndrome.  Give generously, because these people deserve better than to be shunned and jeered at when they walk the streets.



The western world’s insatiable demand for reality television has enabled our society to gorge itself on junk entertainment, with the tragic hidden cost that unwanted celebrities are multiplying faster than homes can be found for them. The RSPCD campaigns to remind people that a celebrity is for life, not just for one series of The Apprentice.  It offers free education to TV commissioners at Channel 4 and provides a neutering service to prevent any more of Kerry Katona’s unwanted children being found abandoned in the bins behind the tattoo parlour.  Your small donation could provide for a loving home for Craig from Big Brother, take the entire cast of Geordie Shore to the STD clinic or arrange for Katie Hopkins to be humanely destroyed.


SAVE THE MIDDLE CLASS CHILDREN          middle class col_opt

Across the world, in areas of war and famine, it is always the innocent children who suffer most.  This is no less true in Britain’s slightly-deprived middle class communities, where children like Alfie (6) and Charlotte (3) have gone without (organic) food for weeks because Mummy lost her job copywriting part-time for an online marketing startup.  Until she contacts another schoolfriend on LinkedIn and finds work, Alfie, Charlotte and Mummy will have to survive on just Daddy’s salary as a fund manager.  This will mean no family outings to Bestival, no yoga classes and the horrible possibility that Alfie will have to catch the bus to the local comprehensive.  Have a heart – don’t let Charlotte grow up in a world where she has to use Microsoft Windows and fly economy class.


CAMPAIGN TO SEND BONO TO MARS              Send Bono to Mars_opt

Thanks to NASA, we believe that at some point in its long history the planet Mars may have supported basic cellular life. A full-scale manned mission is still decades away, but a consortium of mega-philanthropists has banded together with the bold vision to send a human ambassador to the red planet.  The consensus amongst experts is that only one man is suitable for this task: Bono, lead singer of U2 and coincidentally someone that both Bill Gates and Ban Ki Moon try and avoid sitting next to at dinner.  Your donations will fund an experimental, one way rocket and the campaign required to convince Bono that Martian civilisation exists and wants to be lectured about charity by a multi-millionaire tax dodger.  The journey will take at least five years, but the rocket will be fitted with a fail-safe detonator in case scientists later discover that Martians really do exist, have already heard Bono’s last album and would perceive Earth’s mission as an act of war.



WORDS Grant Runyon ILLUSTRATION Will Bertram


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