The chronicles of Ruin, continued.
Call me Ishmael said....intelligence is knowing what to do when you don't know what to do.
Anonymous said... When I don't know what to do,I come here.
10 September 2009 22:59
Thursday, 18 April 2013
WHAT THE 'PAPERS SAY. THE FILTH-O-GRAPH. DEAD CROW BLUES. OLD BIRD THROWN ON THE FIRE.
Despite all this nauseating tripe from Redneck Central, the Filth-O-Graph is still not accepting comments on anything to do with Thatcher. Obviously those great democrats, the Barclay ZombieTwins believe that their opinion, filtered through such cheap lickspittles as now edit the shitrag, is all that needs to be said, pack of cheesy lies or not. They do not own a dying newspaper, after all, to give a flying fuck about what their - albeit non-paying - readers think
Daily, ancient, redblooded, well, perhaps a bit anaemic ex-pats, living in Spain or Florida, with sunny erectile disfunction and varicose veins, flood the Filth-O's comments section with praise for the grubby old git, Tebbit, or with damnation for lone parents or wogs and the BBC but since the terrible passing of the old crow, now, thankfully, ashes and cinders, like most of the country she so stridently and impertinently fucked-up, all comment portals are closed, slammed shut, in fact.
Might it be that even your whoreson redneck doesn't quite support the adoration of the Maggie, which has so dominated and colonised the 'papers and skymadeupnewsandfilth and most notably, the BBC?
I suggest this for two reasons. Firstly, if, as is claimed, only a few feeble-minded nutter anarchists, such as your correspondent, question the mythologising of old Mrs Crow, then surely the Filth-0-Graph would be delighted to publish thousands of tub-thumping comments in praise of the Boudicca de nos jours. Secondly, in both Paul Dacre's filthy rag, the Mail and in the Filth-O-Graph, a recent editorial posture was that, Yes, the client welfare nation, is, as fuckheaded, innumerate, incompetent squeaky wee George Osblow insisted, a mindless horde of nascent arsonists, child killers and dogging fiends. One would have thought that the Filth-O-Graph would be fertile ground for this learned exposition, but au contraire, by a hundred-to-one Telegraph commenters not only disagreed with George Fuckhead but by the same ratio, fired a round of fucks into the worthless little chancer; it was most heartening, although it must have had the editorial staff reaching for the cocaine or the brandy. The BBC comments pages, too, don't quite toe the establishment line, more than half of all comments, today, are angry, anti-funeral, anti-crow, anti-politics and a good quarter of them have been censored for breaking house rules, the BBC, run by thieves, arse bandits, panderers, ponces and child molesters is dead keen on politeness, after all.
I suspect, therefore, anyway, that Mr Retiree, eking out his pension on the Costa del Poverty is growing a bit tired of the continent-wide austerity, as they call it, which is the natural and inevitable consequence of the ThatcherOrganisedCrime Gang deregulating the banks and privatising our means of keeping warm, getting around and now of staying healthy. Blatcherism, as it has now become, a dire blend of OldTory and NewLabour, citizen-hating, anyway, is dead in the water, anyone with a hole in his arse knows that. And I suspect that many former Tories are now taking a UKIP hammer to a Thatcher legend once set in stone. The Barclays and their slaves wouldn't publish that, now, would they? Be interesting to see when ornithological comments are again welcome at the Telegraph. They will probably insist that comment was disallowed as a mark of respect.
I didn't watch the old crow's junta-style funeral but I did have a moment of the day, a bit later, during a closely-controlled BBC voxpop segment. There was this ex-paratrooper, bent as a nine-bob note, he was - a forty-five pence coin, for younger readers - probably has Do-Or-Die tattooed on his foreskin and he had one of those noncey, snuffler's beards which are so fashionable; all rigid he was, in his blazer and his beret, virtually standing to attention. He said, all parade-groundy, that Mrs Thatcher was a great prime minister because she allowed him to do wot 'e wuz trained for, killing people, and he would always be grateful. Funny how, with this gang, one minute, it's OhMyGod, Terrible Post Traumatic Distress Order, and the next it's a great privilege to rip some bastard's guts out with a bayonet, or better still, your bare hands. As with the cops, we need to make soldiering a graduate profession. Asked if he thought she was as great a PeeEm as Winston Churchill, Tommy thought for a moment and said, the silly fucker, that Yes, in his opinion she was. No wonder Arnhem was a fuck-up, no wonder Bloody Sunday kicked-off. If this mad old cunt is representative of ex-servicemen then it is they, and not old-age pensioners, tax-credit recipients and disabled people who are a threat to the nation. Nearly a thousand people died in that Falklands Jamboree, and all because Lady Crow scrapped a South Atlantic Royal Naval patrol vessel; mad old bitch.
I had another moment, too, as some old Tory hag, dressed and made-up and veiled like a whore in a French farce was fronting-out the fact that only criminal Americans had turned-up for this nonsense - Kissinger and some old White House goons, Cheney, for fuck's sake, the Thief of Baghdad; Margaret wouldn't have wanted either of the Clintons and both Dubya and his old man were indisposed, Yeah, right, Dubya'll be coked off his chimp face or else in rehab, and his old man's loopy, like Maggie. No-one would have expected Obama, she simpered, he's far too busy. No mention of Jimmy Carter, this Polyfilled and lacquered old boot probably never heard of him. There wasn't even a US Ambassador, Obie couldn't be arsed to appoint one, to attend the funeral of the woman who won the Cold War. So there, a quartet of vicious, warcrimeing old degenerates, none of them in office, all of them lucky not to be in jail; wasn't that proof of Maggie's specialness in the US?
And yes, it was; most of her kin and cronies, after all, especially her son - what did they call him and his new bint? the honourable Sir Mark and Lady Thatcher? FuckMeJesus that prat's got some nerve, if he was a kleptobanker, or almost anyone else, people'd be calling for him to be stripped of his hereditary viscountcy - are or were crooks, thieves, torturers and worse.
MediaMinster put on a good show, with our money but it looked to me that attendance was thin - it wasn't like Diana, for instance, or Michael Jackson - and that a lot of it would've been a mixture of tourists and applesanpears, troubleanstrife pearly KingsanQueens type Lahndunners, 'avin a day out.
A damp squib, despite everyone's best efforts but one that may yet re-ignite. We might yet see MediaMinster eating crow, instead of burning it.