Friday, 21 November 2014


 Good evening from Birmingham
 and let's start straight away with the question that has divided the nation;
 Should stanislav, a young, polish plumber, be deported?

It is simply outrageous, and morally indefensible, and ethically questionable and probably illegal and brings politics into further disrepute, not as though it occupied the moral high-ground to start with,

And let's face it, it's not as though you could sink much lower. 
 Speaking as a Muslim woman, I mean, if you deport stanislav, who's gonna fix my fucking shithouse? Cheap4Cash?
I mean, if you're stood at the bottom of the stairs and there's a flood of icy water coming down, with condoms and Tampaxes and turds and toilet paper and Allah, peace and blessing be upon his name, knows what the fuck else in it  then you don't need a fucking politician, you need a fucking plumber, innit, ToryBoyGoneBad? 

The whole stair carpet's ruined and the house reeking of piss and  menstrual blood and nappies and nuclear-strength curry-shit, eh?  And your wittering on like a cunt about quotas and skill sets and residency cri-fucking-teria? Good for fuck all, 'swhat you are;  need a quick rub-down with a fucking housebrick. UKIP? You'll have us all down on our knees in front of the khazi, up to our shoulders in our own shit.  Fucking useless bastards.

No-one in UKIP was suggesting that we round up foreigners and either put them in work camps or deport them. Much less exterminate them. 
Not yet, anyway.
Let's be absolutely clear about that, Yazza, lovely name by the way, Yazza, is it foreign,some of my best friends are foreigners, British foreigners but foreigners all the same; no, no, all that happened was that after an ubelieveably busy day, working, I might say, frightfully hard for the people of this country, as, might I say, do all of us in politics;  being quite incredibly tired, my colleague, Mark Dickless,  gave a slightly confused answer with regard to our policy on the Final solution, I mean UKIP's strategy for promoting harmonious integration...........Good God, look at that.......

 I say, Dimbleby, are there darkies allowed in the audience?

Look, there's another one, in the second row, a Paki.....

And there's another, on the end of the row, up there, 
you're not letting him ask a question are you.....??


 Calm down Douglas, old girl, don't get your knickers in a twist, you know what you're like.  No, it's quite simple, we wouldn't allow him to ask a question until he'd been here for three months. Or is it two years.......Play some really cool jazz, though, some of them,  blacker the better, tne blacker the dude, the cooler the tune,  as we jazz lovers say.....

 No,  Ken, no way, two years is far too long, we simply couldn't get 'em registered, not in two years......

    Registered, you mean eligible for NHS DeathCare,
 as happened on your watch, Andy, on your watch, in North Staffs.?

 No, Ken, registered to vote Labour...

The dreadful, the unspeakable PBC1 Question Time show came from Birmingham last night, a place, judging by the audience, wholly unmoved by Mr Fruitcake, his colour-it-in politics-for-morons  and his angry Poundlanders and contemptuous of turncoat MP,
Mr Douglas Gobswell, 

although not nearly as derisory as it was in response to the laughably shrill utterances of some pathetic little scrubber
belonging - and I use the word  keenly -  to whoever owns the so-called Taxpayers Alliance,

poor little fool, clearly a graduate of the Guido Fawkes School of Political Science,  had no idea of the scale of her self-ridicule, 
oughta be a law against that, people using the PBC to make of themselves irredeemable fools. 'Snot fair on them. Not fair on the viewers, either; even on my side of the screen,  I was tied in knots, Embarrassment's figures-of-eight contorting my limbs, Please-God-Make-It-Stop-ing for all I was worth. One of the most brazenly stupid people I have ever, ever, ever seen. And she thought she was clever, NowLet'sBeClear-ing her empty head off.

Anyway, a member of the audience, 

rather more grounded than the TaxMinx, completed her caustic assessment of the panel with the question, referring to  turncoat opportunist arsehole, Mr Mark Dickless 

- What, anyway, are we doing, 
even thinking about voting for a man who, 
when he gets tired, turns into  a racist?

If I was WysteriaDave I'd be on the 'phone to a tee-shirt printers, right now, ordering  thousands:



It was a gem of sharp, Brummy realism, sparkling on an ocean floor of trash, effluent  and wreckage, the panel was  a grim school of bottom-feeding professional parasites, juicily barracked by its audience, pointlessly circling itself,  excreting clouds of rhetoric and bombast, I-Know-Besting;  the audience, however, just for once, was - apart from a feeble sprinkling of Kippers - united in hard-baked scorn and derision against MediaMinster. If you didn't see it, it is available on the Ouija-Pad; there is a hint, there, from Birmingham, a glimmering, that all may not yet be lost to Knavery, Farage's or the others'.


SG said...

Thanks for the synopsis Mr I. Dunno how you find the strength to watch it. I have to switch the fuck off after about ten minutes - too much blood pressure. That said I managed to get through about half of 'Any Questions' the other day when it was hosted by that Glen Campbell bloke that you mentioned back up the road. The PBC could do worse than hoy the Dimblefucks off out of it and give the 'Rhinestone Cowboy' a go. Then get rid of Anita Arse on 'Any Answers' and stop screening out the nutters who used to make it worth listening to - how do they do that?

call me ishmael said...

I can't watch it, usually, mr sg, I just caught sight of that awful TA bint and became mesmerised; I am glad I did because the audience was yah-booing everybody save Yasmin Alibhai-Muslim and the girl I highlighted was wonderful. Hastily turned it off when Neil and his two stooges appeared, though. Campbell and Gordon Brewer are both considerably better journalists than those on PBC RadioTelefisEngland.

Bungalow Bill said...

I can't watch QT mainly because of DImbleby who is the very essence of Media entitlement. His elocution is, like Brenda's, a thing of wonder: a 1953 time capsule. As for the weekly assemblage of gargoyles, both on the panel and in the audience, it makes me want to close my eyes and listen to my music. I know I should be braver. Here's to your glimmer of hope Mr I.

call me ishmael said...

Only now and again for me, any of it, mr bungalow bill, just as, every few years, I will watch an omnibus of Coronation Street and EastEnders, just to see if they've changed, to see how they retain their stranglehold on popular cultural consciousness, despite being almost indescribably poor, shouty, exagerrated and harmful.

Sometimes, I see David Dimbleby on an archived programme, Ulster in the 'seventies or a later general election and I always wonder how he has travelled so far on such unchangingly slender talent; pure snobbery, I guess, at the Corporation, in oursuit of its own heritage.

SG said...

By the way, on a first cursory inspection, I thought the TA bint was Caroline Flint! On reflection they are probably interchangeable.