Thursday, 13 May 2010


King Alec disappeared during the election.  He had insisted that his  tribesmen's party would win twenty seats in Westminster and that through them and the arithmetic of uncertainty he would rule the English roost; he had squandered fifty grand of tribesmen's money on a Fool's errand in the courts; so,  shameless,  he did his usual Brown/McCavity thing, locked himself in the shortbread cupboard and left his comrades in the shit, mainly the ubiquitous and unendurable First Fishwife, his  depute leader, Nicola Gob,

never happier than when Jock journalists, most of them with a face like  a prison door and the IQ of a fencepost, are pointing cameras at her midget presence and hanging on her every garbled SeeYouJimmy, it's all they English bastards' fault.  Lardman's clear strategy is to let others, mainly his dumbfuck finance minister, John Swinney and Wee Nicola Moustache, take the flak which is beginning to pepper the tribesmen's sky.

The posse of Westminster tribesmen never arrived, the judge mocked his demand to be on the would-be prime ministers' shows and JockLabour, as we predicted months ago, enjoyed a bit of a rennaissance in the face of a possible Tory government.  As usual the bloated wee fucker was wrong on all counts and went into hiding, comfort eating.

The leaking and grotesque half-billion pound parliament, Kirsty Wark House, is now in session, though, and for Salmond it's nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Come out fighting, Genghis Salmond,  therefore,  was the order of the day in Jock  First Minister's questions.  Salmond had seen his grubby, lardy corpulence as KingMaker-personified, in a coalition, more Rainman than Rainbow of LibLab and Tribesmen, Welsh and Scottish, he extorting more than our share of money to squander on  PR and smirking,  maybe inviting  he-man, Sir Sean Connery, 82, now patriotically residing on the bonny, bonny banks of Lake Geneva, to attend Bute House for a piss-up and a viewing of his amazing career in films, as they do; maybe selling more of Scotland to Donald McTrump or to the windmilling energy carpetbaggers.  Labour, anyway, he insisted angrily,  was wrong for not doing a deal with the Toiletmen,    the Toiletmen were wrong for not doing a deal with Labour and doing one, instead with the braying Old Etonians and the Old Etonians were just plain wrong;  the only person who was right in all this election shit was he, Alec the First of Scotland. And, come the next Holyrood elections, probably the last.

Smirk as he may,  and he does,


Tavish McHooter must know that Scotland will be enraged at his Toiletmen for joining the Tory party; encouraged by their recent victories, Jock Labour will take their seats back, from both Tribesmen and Toileteers.  If you took all the useless Torybastard leaders in recent history, Howard, Major and IDS, rolled them into a composite of abhorrent,  unelectable  failure, wretchedly off-putting, irritating, a six-legged, three-headed juggernaut of repulsive gabshitery they would not equal in  smouldering wrath and simmering, punitive misanthropy   the charmless, ghoulish matron, Annabel Goldie,

who currently leads the Torybastard MSPs, all up their own scabby arses with delight at the fact that an Old Etonian is at the helm again and can get back to  dealing in unemployment for the poor and perks for the rich; it may be that Goldie's wretched JockLawyer bluster and fart in a colander indignation will ignite the Tory flame among a handful of Anglo-Scottish hangers and floggers but realistucally she's pissing up a rope, now, there's a fragrant, imaginative construct for you.  

It is a right bitches brew,  up here, the previous LibLab pact a byword for national embarrassment, political self interest and stupefying incompetence, Salmond's wee boat running aground, the local Libs  quite rightly fucked by Cleggie's shenanigans,  the Torybastards a barely breathing museum piece and Labour, under Ian Gray, putting the Wendy Fishmouth scandals behind them, perhaps being seen as the only ones able to withstand Cameron and his dopey chums and their servility to Money.

The Scottish elite,  scumbag lawyers, rubbish journalitsts, jumped-up councillors and trade union capos  - think pisshead  and former NewLab minister for hire, Brian Wilson - often describe themselves as a village, really. Certainly no shortage of idiots,   the Scottish people ill-served  for centuries by scoundrel patriots like Salmond, braying wannabe aristos like Malcolm Rifkind, gobby, dipso wankers like Charlie Kennedy and deranged, presbyterian Nazis like our outgone premier, Gordon Snot.  What we need, here, in the best part of England, is  a revolution.


RantinRab said...

Hear hear!!

Anonymous said...

You mean that there are still trade unions the other side of Hadrians wall?

mongoose said...

Can I, please, add Melanie Phillips to the hanging list?

call me ishmael said...

I thought that she was infinitely preferable, tonight, to the politicians; although her history, and that of her old man, Josh, are awful.

Twenty-five years ago, writing on home affairs for the Guardian, she seemed such a nice girl. Yes, string her up, mr m. Womder what it was, turned her rancid.

Trade unions everywhere, mr anonymous, they just all went Blairite but I think mr Rantin Rab would agree with me that up here the political consciousness is stronger, closer to the surface, more radical than in the South; that so much, well, a chunk, anyway, of it conspires to hoodwink people with scoundrel patriotism and empty promises is regrettable, even though it keeps interest alive.

There is a vacuity in the Tribesmen's refrain, articulated by many Scots so-called thinkers, people like Gerry Hassan, who argue that because there has been a devolving of some powers to the regions the UK is, therefore, four nations, requiring, coincidentally and advantageously for their caste, four more tiers of arseholes to manage them, this, of course, is like saying that the United States is actually fifty-odd different countries. Bollocks, in other words.

One of the great tragedies of recent times here is that Tearful Tommy Sheridan and his Mrs almost single-handedly destroyed the parliamentary presence of the Left. Even if you didn't or don't believe in socialism, collectivism, radical redistribution of wealth, whatever you want to call that strand of political thinking, the presence of half a dozen lefties in parliament was often a very refreshing antidote to the ghastly, mouthing dinosaur parties, in which I include the SNP, all in hock to people like Trump or Souter or the banks.

Tommy and Gail's official trial was supposed to have started some time ago, dunno what the delay is. Anyone know?

Anonymous said...

Womder what it was, turned her rancid" I would hazard a guess the same thing that turns trade union officials into twats the minute they take off the boiler suit and put on a cheap Burtons suit. They all become divorced from reality never having to wonder if the bills can be paid this month, start moving in different circles no more hanging around with the lower orders. No more brown coat, white coat and threat of the overcoat a job if not for life at least they won't be signing on with the rest of the plebs if the worst happens. For what its worth two of your favourite people Saint Bob and Bonio are guest editors on the Toronto Globe and Mail might be doing the finance pages informing the readers on how to set up tax exile status or saving Africa all we need now is Mr Sumner and his fragrant wife with input about the Amazon rainforest and jackpot.

call me ishmael said...

The phoniness of the Union official was laid bare to poignant, dramatic effect in Last Exit To Brooklyn, if you can find a copy out there, mr a. Well worth a read, even half a century on. Not as shockingly original as Mr Verge's William Burroughs but, startling, provocative and heartbreakingly accurate. I am sure you would dig it, as they used to say.

As for Mad Mel there is of course much in what you say but I think that her reversal, from decent compassionate, questioning human being to mad, bigoted Zionist and panel show bully is due to something other than purely material comfort.

Anonymous said...

Wot abaht the workers? Nothing much is heard these days of course I do appreciate there is not that many left but not a peep no protest just have I got news for you and soft question time that goes for political protest now. Perhaps they are too busy paying off debt they have got into buying stuff they didn't need and certainly could not afford. Forced to listen to the smug twats you write about handing down their opinions from the BBC mount. When I was a lot younger (yeah what a memory) the revolution usually started as soon as the pub closed.

call me ishmael said...

Thatcher's shrewdest move was to sell the council houses and make mortgage-slaves of so many, subsequent rulers have peddled the house inflation boom as unstoppable, safe, actually, as houses; people are not so keen to strike when they have a mortgage to pay, an investment to protect, alright for them to be thrown out of work and repossessed, quite another for them to strike in protection of their terms and conditions. On the bright side there's the national lottery and Cruelty TeeVee. These might lose their allure as the Twin Tories start their great national task of throwing people out of work for their own good.

Anonymous said...

Well they did say last time around that unemployment was a price worth paying providing it wasn't one of them for the chop.As to union officials when jobs were no big deal and plentiful, lick'em and stick'em was the order of the day and strikes happened the officials would turn up meet the management without any of up present and always said the same thing. The management would not discuss anything under "duress" so get back to work pronto we used to tell them that as we were paying their wages through union subs to fuck off back in there and do what we are paying you for. Happy days sell outs were everyday events in 1973 with Heath, Robert Carr of the IRA not that one but the Industrial Reorganiasion Act started getting stroppy the dear leader at the time of the AEWU was Hugh Scanlon later rewarded for services to capitalism by being Lord Scanlon of Davyhulme there is a big shitworks there so appropriate yeah?. He said that if he called a national strike the new laws passed would sequester union funds gutless bastard and remember he was in the International Brigade so he said it was down to plant by plant instead of calling the governments bluff. Thereby sowing the seeds for Thatcher a few years later. Sellouts, backhanders, jobs for the family (Kinnock)no fucker resigns anymore just wait for it to blow over till the next scandal comes along othing changes that much in my opinion.It does here a leader of the red shirts was shot in the head whilst giving an interview last night and now marshall law is in place in 17 provinces bet you haven't got military roadblocks where you live. Surprising what people can do when thay are not up their necks in debt.

Willy said...

It is odd that you say a revolution is needed in Jockland.
There are many folk in the south who think all the politicians in Jockland are revolting.

call me ishmael said...

And, indeed, mr willy, among we in the North, are many such.