GRIFFINGATE, THE FURY GROWS

MELANIE JOSHUA PHILLIPS ROSENBERG,
MAD MEL OF THE DAILY FILTH-O-MAIL.

I'd just like to get straight from the start, David, that anyone who disagrees with me is a fucking Nazi, is that clear? Good. And I will bite them. Now, to return to the question, I am so pissed at the BBC leaving me off Question Time With The Nazis that I have not shaved for three days. I mean, I eat Nazis for Passover, I mean breakfast and I should have been there to deal with that horrid little man, Straw. My absence from the panel is tantamount to the re-opening of the concentration camps, in which everybody seems all of a sudden to have lost a granny, well, David, let me reassure the viewers, those ordinary Jewish families sat at home in Manchester and Golders Green, eating anchovy trifle and tuned-in to see me, their prophet, on this programme, that I fucking own the concentration camps and they are off-limits to any other bastard, especially that shiska tramp whore bitch slag, Moir, waddussitmadda if a young Irish boy takes the pork sausage up the Jacksie, so long as he loves his mudda and says his prayers to Jesus, the fink from Nazareth. And he sings, or sang like a fucking angel.

But anyway, David, my boy, the deal is this, the beard stays on until I get my own QT, devoted entirely to me and maybe that gay Rabbi, Julia Cheeseburger, but definitely not that simpering old pansy, Lionel BlueCock, what should we be having, a Question Time of gay fucking Rabbis, Oi Vay and fuck that shit. Did I mention my husband-partner is a hotshit lawyer and'll sue your ass if I don't get my own show? My son is a lawyer, too, or is that Yasmin Alibahai Kebab. the greasy old soundbiting Voice of Allah. Maybe it's that skriking bitch, Clare Pox, off the moral maze whose son's a lawyer, wouldn't be surprised, although that sour old bitch's probably barren and never dined off the pork suasage, anyway, just munches carpet, down there at the Institute of Ideas. (sings) Is-rael, Is-rael uber alles...

Thank you Melanie Phillips ben Rosenberg and now The Archbishop of York, the very reverend and stupid Dr John Semolina,


what's your position on the Nick Griffin affair?

Bless you my son and may the Lord watch over your goings out and your comings in to the House of Lords. You know, as I sat on the train to come to this lovely studio and do the Lord's work, I nibbled at an antelope sandwich and sipped at a small mealie beer and reflected on my days sitting in the evenings, by the kraal, as the womenfolk cleaned the house, carried water from the well, ground maize, tended the children and the cattle and did every fucking thing that we men were too idle to do and I wondered why God had sent me to this shithole to minister to a countryful of fuckwits. At least my old mate, Desmond Tutu, got himself a Nobel Prize for his holy mumbo-jumbo, down there in the Dark Conmtinent, what have I got, an inner-city Achbishopric, York, who the fuck has ever heard of York, the only thing they make there is fucking Kit-Kats, have a break, have a fucking Kit-Kat, not exactly the Sermon on the fucking Mount, is it. I tell you, my son, being a senior churchman is not a bed of fucking roses. Consider the lilies of the field, they toil not and neither do they spin, which is more than I can say. Gay bishops? Put 'em in the fucking pot and simmer for two hours.

Yes, Archbishop, but what about the question, should Mr Griffin be burned at the stake? Well, as you know, David and brothers-and-sisters-in-Christ-or-Whoever-at-home, the nigger pimp, Mugabe, has quite tried my patience, so much so that as a gesture of solidarity with my friends in Zimbabwe I have not changed my underpants for three years and that will remain my position until Brother Mugabe is put up against the wall and Praise the Lord, shot full of fucking holes, Hallelujah and Saints be praised. Everytime worshippers in York Minster see me robed in gold and green at the High Altar, serving sinners with the Holy Ghost and a swig of Buckfast tonic wine, they can reflect that in order to bring about the Lord's Will vis a vis that old black bastard, I, John of York, am wearing underpants more vividly marked and heavily soiled than the Turin fucking Shroud. The Lord works in mysterious ways, doesn't he fucking just. And so the least I can do is serve his ends by making a dirty but holy protest, clad ye in filth and dried-up bits of excrement in the name of the Lord, as we used to learn back in the Bone-In-The-Nose Theological School in Darkest Africa. As for Brother Griffin, well you know those fucking Jews run everything, always have, and they killed our Lord, nailed him right up there, for all to see and all they can do is walk about Crucifixion-Denying and buggering-up the economy, all these banks are all owned by Hymie. you know, so, frankly, David, my enemy's enemy is my friend; if a few inner-city dwelling coons get rolled up in the New Holocaust, well, it'll all be part of God's plan, just like everything. It's true that many of my brother bishops are thinking of joining hands with Pope Nazi on account of all the dyke priests and the gay bishops being permitted by Brother Rowan to take on holy orders and bugger one another alll round the vicarage and these are tough times for Mother Church but I think we can welcome into our embrace a properly-constituted Nazi Party, just like in the olden days.(sings) In the Jungle, the Mighty Jungle, the Lion sleeps tonight, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, Wimoweh...

Thank you, Archbishop, and now
the colourful and controversial - but now our best friend -
Colonel Muhamma Gadaffi, Emperor of Libya
and owner outright of the former prime minister
Tony al Blair.

,
His Excellency, Col. Gaddafi,

Does His Excellency have any views on the British Nazi, - cheers, waving of rolled-up copies of the Guardian - sorry National Party?

Well, it is great to be on the BBC, in my country we have Question Time, too, and if some smart ass comes out with the wrong answer, like they might say Libyan Intelligence when they mean the CIA or maybe, Yvonne Fletcher, when they mean running dog capitalist lackey and member of the secret terror police, then it's Whoosh!, and down comes the scimitar of justice and off comes the

head, eh, it's the only thing these ragheads understand. And the women, we don't stand for any of that fucking about, look at a decent man the wrong way and they get bathed in the petals of Allah's Mercy......

You mean stones....?



Yes, stones, nasty sharp ones, it's the only thing these bitches understand. But Bismillah, we are here to smoke a little kif, fuck a few pretty boys and talk about Sheikh Griffin, just like when HM Govt comes round my gaff. Does he wanna buy some oil, Sheikh Griffim, has he got any money, or does he know anybody with any money ? If he does then I can't see a problem really, I mean, he hasn't set half the world alight, like my good friend, Tony, and my good friend, Jack, and my good friend, Gordon el Snot, if we permit those riff-raff in the Tent of the Almighty, peace and blessings be upon his name, then why not this bloated little loony?

You think it's ok, do you, for Mr Griffin to be preaching hate?

Well, why not, everybody else does?

Thank you, President Gadaffi, and finally Murdoch columnist and former Tory MP, Lord Matthew Parris of

Hampstead Heath.

Matthew, what's your view?

Well of course I agree with everyone else on the panel, that's why we are all here and when it come to Freedom of Speech I'd just like to affirm that Mr Murdoch is all in favour of it, as long as it's the right kind and not the wrong kind, so you see there's not really that much difference between skymadeupnewandfilth and the BBC, now, is there.

I think we in positions of influence have to strike a balance between allowing people to say whatever they want, which would be wrong, in my opinion - as I say in my autobiography, everybody outside of Westminster is a nobody - and allowing them to debate these things within limits which we set for them, which is the right thing and very much what Mr Murdoch wants to happen. I, for instance, have never said Gordon Brown is gay and wouldn't dream of doing so, unless of course, he looked as though he might win the next election, which he won't. Mrs Thatcher, bless, was ever so fond of that kind old Nazi gentleman, Mr General Pinochet de los disappearances, and of Professor Heinrik von Kissinger who famously experimented on a whole population with his famous Agent Orange and of course of the Bruders de Klerk, ApartheidTownshipsRus, of South Africa who had similarly bold community ideas to Mr Griffin; we Tories have always been in the forefront when it comes to Nazis and there is absolutely no reason why Mr Griffin doesn't continue to work for us, saying the things that we are too frightened to say. Sieg Heil and Kiss Me Quick. Buy the Times, I'm in it!

As ever, my thanks to the panel, to the nodding nitwits in the studio and to the BBC for a lifetime's worth of highlypaid pomposity on my part. Tune in next week for more shit.