Sunday 3 July 2016

NO LAUGHING MATTER.


In dreadful news, the world of showbusiness has yet again, been rocked to its drug-abusing, child-molesting, tax-evading, vain, stupid,  greeedybastard  foundations.  
Firstly, 

 
 Ronnie Corbett of Wiltshire Farm Foods, 

then Victoria Wood of ASDA, Kellogs, McVities, Sanatogen, Iceland and Dyson both passed away 

 
 Deeply honoured at this recognition of my services to GlobaCorp, 
yes, beat me on the bottom with an FT Index, I mean a Woman's Weekly.

and while these unbearable tragedies were occurring Sir Harry Webb was being investigated by the police. 

Bachelor Boy, Sir Harry Webb.

 Said Gloria Hunniford of Sir Harry's tribulations, 
 
Well, it's just absolutely devastating for my very good friend, Sir Harry. I mean, I know countless people's homes are raided in  a blaze of publicity,  their occupants eventually either not being charged at all or being acquitted after having spent months or even years in custody. But frankly, who gives a fuck about them, Sir Harry is a special case and -  him being a devout, practicing hypocrite -

 

 it's not as though he has any faith in God or anything,  to sustain him when the scribes and the pharisees, whoever they are, gang-up on him, y'know, like that bloke Jesus did,  He bore it all with humility,  did Jesus,  but he wasn't in rock'n'roll, Oh I know Sir Harry wasn't, either, just copying Elvis and then becoming Mr Light Entertainment but it doesn't matter,  there's no business like show business, and Jesus wasn't in it. 

 Sir Harry is, though and it's not as though the poor flower can stand any unfairness, Sir Harry, 'snot as though when he walks through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, His rod'n'staff shall comfort Sir Harry; whips and scourges, crucifixion, stabbings in the liver wuith a spear, let me tell you, listeners, out there, in Listener World, they're nothing compared to what's been done to Sir Harry.  

But enough of that, this is Dame Gloria Toyboy for you,  the stupid man's Esther Rantzen, here on Wonderful Radio Two, and next up it's  Sir Harry himself, with his smash hit from the 'seventies, Congratulations. And celebrations.
And so he jolly well should.

 And now, following on all these unbearable tragedies, comes the news that one of the progenitors of Cruelty TeeVee, Mrs Merton, has passed away.

Tell me, Mr Satan, what was it first attracted you to pouring hot lead up bad people's BTMs, forever and ever?

Firebrand revolutionary socialist luvvie, Mr Ricky Tomlinson, of Acorn Insurance and Wiltshire Farm Foods 
 
 Yerr, comrades, home-deliveries of Hote Queezeen, like, for rich pensioners. Forward, to the wotsaname, like.
No, I mean it, revolution's gorra come one day, love.

said he was to'ally an' u''erly gutted by Cazza's passin', like. 

 
 Yerr, I dunno, like where the work's gonna come from now, now that she's kicked it, not that you'd  call it work, sittin' around in your underpants, fartin', like, ironically but also capcherin the essential slobbishness of working people. 
Cuz, lessbefair, waddaretheylike, eh?

An' that's, like, what the show wazallabout, the Royle Family, yerr, just like EastEnders, mocking poor people.
  A right clever title, I always thought, that, a play on the proper Royle Family, the Queen an' them lot, gerrin money off the rest of us, fer old rope, like.  
Yerr, 'swhy I'm a socialist - fat, stupid, useless, idle bastards like me, tekkin' the piss, like, only artistically
Nah, gerroff, thick lad, I only done them adverts fer the money, like. I think old people should eat proletarian food, like, beans an' that, fish fingers an' not that fancy muck, with sauces and shite like that. 'Part from those of us as is workin' in worrIlike t'call the High Arts, where good diet is the key to, well, feelin' good.


Yerr, Brookside, an' that, HighArt.  
Leader a the Labour party? Well I might, it does need someone, a socialist with some credibility, like me. Talk to me agent, willya, 'e 'andles all that side a things. I'm more the tortured artist. Yerr, exactly, just exacly like Lenny 'Enry.
Yerr, an don't forget, 

 
insure your car with Acorn, 
they're right good comrades, at Acorn.


Oh, PS, I 'xpeck there'll be loadsa fuckin' repeats like, of the Royle Family, as a tribute,  to Cazza, God bless her, I loved that lass, I really did, so I'll be alright for a few readies, for a bit, like. But them voice-overs, like, fer capitalism, and fer firms wot pay their workers fuck all, them's silly money, really; 
bring it on, eh?

I always felt she was slumming, Caroline Ahearne, a frosty beauty and a middling  intellect wasted on that ghastly Mrs Merton schtick, a proper artist would've done a single sketch of Merton and then moved on, point made, but no, not these days.
 OK, it was mainly the truly deserving, from whom she took the piss, nevertheless, hers was a significant contribution to the culture of cruelty which is now almosr de rigeur in what we are told is comedy.
This accursed Canuck mutant, for instance 

Never mind deporting radical Muslims,
left to me this cow'd be on the first plane back to fucking Saskatchewan or wherever wasteland she's from; the Canadians I'm sure would banish her to the Arctic circle; 

 or this piece of slime, 

 
the new Steven Fry, polymath and sneering, ubiquitous  arsehole, Dave Mitchell, of Barclays Bank, Innocent Fruit Smoothies and fuck knows what else, too many to count, he's a fucking infestation, all over newspapers, TeeVee and Radio, the voice of Cool  Urban Smug, the Voice of Radio Four; him and his impossibly ghastly mrs;  not a shred of genuine humour in their miserable, money grubbing lives, just a clever, hurtful sneer.


These filthy bastards, the comedic  voice-over artists, they don't want to make anyone laugh so's they'll see the stupidity of things, they want to make people desperate and unhappy, so they'll buy things.


He's a cunt, Mitchell, a marketing man in clown's drag. 
The goddess Wood, she was  a cunt, too. I'm glad she's dead, maybe she's selling HobNobs to the Devil as he stuffs flaming fifty pouhd notes up her jacksie, I hope so.  
 These people, they call themselves artists, while they murder our culture. 
Fuck 'em, I hope they all die of cancer. 


Talking of which, I read that the UK took delivery of the first of our £80,000,000 babywog killer aircraft the other day, the first of nearly two hundred which we have ordered.


The Lightning 11, it's where your wheelchairs have gone.
Maybe one of these artists will stand-up, on one of these wretched panel shows and say, 

Cure4FuckingCancer?  Here it is.  
There'll be more than thirty billion pounds spent on acquiring and maintaining these fucking things, a lot of them will fail, the IT'll be shit, the budgets'll over-run, they'll be good for fuck all, except enriching their manufacturers and procurers and  fuelling the wankdreams of psycho-vermin like Mick Fallon. 

 
Thirty, forty, fifty billion pounds, to disrupt Afghani weddings, napalm playgrounds and schools? What sort of cancer research could flow from fifty billion pounds?

He won't though, will he, what would his owners say, if Mr David  Smug, in his excruciating voice,  was to start speaking Truth unto Power. 
And anyway, the Big Society, it depends upon volunteers, doesn't it, selling tat in charity shops, for pennies, That's the way to beat cancer, at street level. Clever comedians, after all, need every minute of  their time to tell knob jokes, but ironically. 
It's no laughing matter, British  comedy.

30 comments:

SG said...

Mr I, you are far too harsh. These Mercantile, Celebrity, Socialist, Lovies perform a valuable public service upon their demise. There are a good many citizen-suspect-consumers out there who, quite simply, don't have enough grief in their lives. Grief, Mr I, especially the vicarious variety, is the new greed and grief is good! Take a moment to spare a thought (and perhaps a prayer...) for those 'remainians', who, 'quite literally', are 'in bits' on their sofas this very night.

call me ishmael said...

Yeah, fuck them, too. No, mr sg, you're right, life has become a bury-go-round. Sorry, I'll get m'coat.

SG said...

Hang on to that coat Mr I. We shall soon discover whether, or not, the German sense of humour is no laughing matter...

Dick the Prick said...

It's nice to see them all on parade though. I've taken the Observer for 20+ years and those 2 simply can't write anymore - they used to be able to but no, not so much now. Armando Ianucci had that column for years and it was funny - is that too much to ask these days? You rightly point to Mrs Merton and the diminution of cultural comedy but I raise you Blackadder 'the difference between banter is wit'. The Fast Show was funny.

I think you write with an amazing finger for the funny, Sir. Often pmsl.

Anywho - greater games ahead. I am adoring 2 generations of Kinnocks making the same argument. There is talk of Gove taking out the Bullingdon boys for sport - the Bullers as Waugh had them. I think that's right - head down the bog shit. Principled my ass. He's done well. I was waxing lyrical about Cammo destroying both Lib & Lab which is unexpected.

I live in Huddersfield and know more genuine socialists than i'm happy with but if the PLP don't stop then they're gonna get fucking creamed.

call me ishmael said...

I saw the owner of the PLP, Tony Blair, this morning, mr dick, and he sounded weird; has he got throat cancer, from frantically sucking Satan's cock all these years? Let us pray.....

call me ishmael said...

I was reading Marine le Pen, in Time magazine, mr sg, on Brexitm, and she describes a Europe entirely different from Frau Merkel's. Frankie won't be re-elected, neither will Sarkozy, his shabby bint, Chrissie la Vache will be discredted by then, the EuroEstablishment, including our lot, will have disgraced itself even more than recently and, even without any further terrorist attackse, she ought to win, another attack and she'll romp home.

Dick the Prick said...

Howard, Campbell - whom I know you have problems with. I think they've just intimated that Robin Cook committed suicide? And Blunket. Westminster hour - decent 1st time since loss of What The Papers Say. Loved that programme - Granada TV Production!!

Anonymous said...

Why can't Britain build it's own jet fighters? The companies and expertise did exist, Britain had advanced fighters and bombers years ahead of their time, until Conservative and Labour governments both cancelled promising projects and shut the lot down in order to buy American. It's advisable not to mention TSR2, Bell X-1, or Harold Wilson to my ex-fighter pilot, aeronautical engineer father unless you want to hear an embittered, lengthy, technically-detailed lecture which is worth listening to if you want to be cured of all respect for politicians, or any apprehension that they are the friends of our national interests or industrial well-being.
-richard


Mike said...

Mr Richard: you answered your own question; it was Wilson, I believe, who scrapped TSR2 on the instruction of the Americans, thus ending the UK's leadership in advanced fighter design. Now Britain pays for the flying turd from the US which is the F35 - if it ever works.

lilith said...

I'm afraid Victoria Wood never got so much as a chuckle out of me...she actually made me anxious. This reaction was understood when my sister suggested Ms Wood could play our mother in the movie of our life....

Anonymous said...

Mike, not only was this aircraft scrapped but all blueprints, jigs and every trace of a future possibilty to make them was pffftt! chucked down the memory hole.
Someone was being kept very happy indeed. It would have replaced and outperformed the Canberra which was in service for 50 years and would have probably been around to see action in the Gulf war. But it was "only" taxpayers' money, so it's development costs were written off, inferior foreign machines were purchased, and the Russians breathed a sigh of relief. A bomber which could carry nukes and is faster than a Lightning? Nah, we don't want that.
Large bundles of $100s probably played a part.
-richard

Woman on a Raft said...

I am trying to think of an occassion when a celebrity endorsement or voice over has persuaded me to buy anything. Er...um....nope, still can't think of anything. I'll let you know.

I cannot see why the advertisers think it worth the extra money to hire them.

Doug Shoulders said...

More likely to be persuaded not to buy celeb endorsed stuff. If I knew that a celeb had being paid a shitload to adversity a particular product I’d particularly not buy it.
These days I’m running out of places to shop and things to buy.
Similarly those products advertised by what marketing types think is a cool funny ad. Hence I no longer use moneysupermarket since their fat bloke in jeans ad…. About as funny as three hours of Hale ‘n Pace.
But they’re all shit at the end of the day.

Doug Shoulders said...

Adversity...?

Doug Shoulders said...

Isn’t that our special relationship Mr Richard? We help you out during the wars by winning them for you, then you spend eternity paying us back and watching the films. Talk about the sun setting on the British Empire.
At least we’re not forced to buy their shit cars.
If only the German post war rebuilding experiment had been tried out on Britain. There’s a new experiment being tried out in Germany now…a social one. You can keep that one though.

SG said...

Interesting point you make about about the F35-B Mr Richard. Provided they actually work, they'd probably be quite handy against a Klingon 'Bird of Prey' or Romulan 'War-Bird'. However, they are vastly over-specified for use against any enemy that we are likely to face. 'Techicals' mounting machine guns can be despatched far more cost effectively using drones or Tucanos (built under licence by Shorts of Belfast...). I suspect that, as ever, Pareto would be proved right in this situation and we could build something with 80% of the capability at 20% of the cost (in my 'armchair air marshall' opinion). I also suspect that this will be the last generation of manned combat aircraft that we see in technological terms.

Woman on a Raft said...

Agree with Mr SG, not that I understand much of it, but caution that the way things are, if the aliens are ever going to make contact they will probably choose to do it now when it is most inconvenient. It is possible they have done so in the confusion and been mistaken for a consignment of squid which are even now in the chiller cabinet of the HoC subsidised restaurant.

The entire House of Shame is going to have to be given a slap and told to behave, lest it give Ambassador Tentacles the impression that we are a bunch of incomprehensible woodwoes, strangers to soap and cutlery.

yardarm said...

Just watched on the I Wotsit Jet, When Britain Ruled The Air about the aircraft industry after the war. Just seeing what was achieved and also in our space programme, Black Knight, Prospero, Skylark, all in the days of slide rules, steam locomotives and valve radios. We got things done, then.

Woman on a Raft said...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x9pby3pyxuE

Whadiditellyou, they are already here. Jean Claude Juncker says he is routinely in negotiations with the leaders of other planets. He accidentally let it slip.

call me ishmael said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
call me ishmael said...

Those guys, on the moneysupermarket ad, the one writhing on the floor in jeans and the geezer in stilletos, they sear me in my soul, they do, wounding me, I wince when it comes on; I dunno hwo people can do that shit, just for money. I would torch the world they represent, mr doug.

call me ishmael said...

Yes, I've seen that Jet show, mr inmate, and others like it; our aerospace developments, from the Comet to the BAC 111, to Concorde, all fucked, not just by Westminster but by our special relations, the Septics, in support of Boeing, Lockheed and the American Empire. Now we have a newkular, as they say, deterrent, which we cannot operate without Washington's say-so. Rule Britannia, eh. Fuck me, Uncle Sam treated the Nips and the Hermanns better than he did the people who actually won the war. If I had a special relationship like that, I'd be in counselling.

call me ishmael said...

....last generation of manned military aircraft, mr sg, all the more reason not to buy these fucking things. Stealth? It's bollocks, as you say, fucking KlingonTalk. And killing wogbabies needn't be all that expensive; they burn well,after all, as the Right Honourable Geoff Hoon reminded us.

Doug Shoulders said...

I turn away Mr Ishmael, just turn away..or change over.
Aren’t Lockheed involved with NASA. The international taking the piss and tax payers money program?
Them that built the JUNO spaceship? Travelling 1.7 billion miles at 38000 mph for 5 years on one tank of fuel?
I'd laugh if I could find that funny.

SG said...

I'm with you re: that Money Supermarket advert Mr I - it makes me cringe - even in the short exposure before I can get to the off switch!

SG said...

Nice take on the old 'Hitler Rants' meme Mrs WoaR!

SG said...

Ah! You see, Mr I - we have to buy them to justify the 'investment' in Gordon's aircraft carriers. Can't have toy planes on large aircraft carriers - gotta have the full 'gold plate' technology solution. These things make no strategic sense at a time when comparatively cheap UAV technologies will turn everything from a Corvette upwards into an aircraft carrier.

call me ishmael said...

I am never sure about NASA, mr doug, their achievements are astounding but I'd still rather the little brown children had some clean water, maybe an aspirin, an innoculation, some food, before we export our humanity to other places.

call me ishmael said...

They ARE a sight, mr sg, those aircraft carriers, built purely for Snotty's electoral advantage, and now look how clever he was, Scotland run by Labour-hating tribesmen. It's a wonder he manages to wipe his own arse, Gordon Brown the bigot-slayer.

call me ishmael said...

I ahve missed-out on the extra-terrestrial plenipotentiaries, mrs woar. I shall try to bring myself up, as they say,to speed.