Monday, 27 January 2020


Mr Ishmael worked on this Christmas post, but was unable to complete it as his strength was failing. He had intended it to be much longer and more lavishly illustrated. Incomplete as it is, I thought you would like to see it - Mrs Ishmael 


Friends, comrades and fellow freedom fighters of Islington;
firstly, on this night of class betrayal, let me proclaim our undying loyalty to the Provisional IRA
 and its principled campaign of killing innocent men, women and children
 both in the illegitimately divided Irish Socialist Republic and in the so-called United Kingdom. 




Canary Wharf!

 And memorably in Hyde Park.

who among us,
 virtuous vegetarians all, 
 can forget the sight of those ghastly, imperialistic war horses so nobly slain by our bold, Irish comrades?

 Having said that I stand before you tonight triumphant but betrayed,  betrayed by those who, for all of my political life, I have helped keep in poverty. 
It is only by their eternal impoverishment that they realise the importance of a Labour party pledged tooth and nail to keep them there! 
And of course to submit to their communities, shops and 'pubs being blown up for the greater good should Comrade Adams decide that he really doesn't like Brexit.

(Cheers, applause.)

It is only, comrades, by our confiscation of trade union  and Labour party subs that senior party comrades, such as Brother McGoebbels,

 my joint-architect of tonight's landslide victory, owns multiple homes and boats; 
that Comrade and Sister, 

Two plus two? It's seven, isn't it? 

Di Two Left Feet Abbot, 

was able to send her only begotten son, James  - and we promise to support him in his righteous struggle against the Johnsonian police who have complained about him biting them -  to a private school, far from the filth of her own constituency, as well she might. And comrades, we need not remind ourselves that any criticism of Sister  Di  is both racist and sexist as well as being innumeratistic; arithmetic, like gender, is fluid and Comrade Di's adding-up, just because it doesn't is no less valid for being wrong.

(Cheers, applause, singing: We'll keep the Rainbow flag flying here....)

And Comrades, even though I have strained Truth's every sinew, headbutted Virtue's every appearance and kicked Honesty down the gutter in pursuit of tonight's historic victory I am not ready to rest on my laurels, no, I shall draw on my vast expertise and shepherd you, my people and party, to the sunny uplands  of gloriously miserable, powerless opposition and eventual oblivion.

(Cheers and applause.) 

That achievable democratic socialism, equality of opportunity, fairer education and dignity in old age now sleep, homeless, on the streets is not the fault of the electorate or of the braying, blue-collar Tories or even the risibly obnoxious LibDems, it is entirely the fault of Jeremy Corbyn, the man who made a proper cult of himself;
 that we have just awarded him another half-million pounds over another five years is endearingly British; in one of his favoured republics he'd be Up against the Wall, motherfucker.
There is no Reset button, no putrid Islington millionaire, no Northern retarded adolescent will  re-form a Labour movement, that dog has been whipped and ran off; all that remains is succession fodder for discredited, redundant and irrelevant journalism, worse even than when nobody could give a fuck who inherited Gordon Brown's sticky Crown of Snot. The Old Guard will cling to their rusty bayonets, Polly Toynbee fighting for the poor from her home in Majorca, Toilets Maguire dribbling n skymadeupnewsandfilth, united only in their greed and their loathing for the working class  but nobody, least of all the working class gives a fuck about Emily Pissface  or Becky LongChops.
The party, long since clause-four neutered by Blair and Mandelstein and Campbell is over 


Good evening.
I'm Jon Sox.
Of the US Democrat party
or the Hillarycrats, 
as we prefer to call ourselves.
 And this is what we call Channel Four News.
The channel funded by you so me and Krish Sweat, Matt Fat and the bimbo, Wotsername,  can air our prejudices.

And as we all reel from the shame of our own so-called general election, one in which tripe-eating, unsophisticated,  gender-specific Notherners defied their Metropolitan betters and voted against their betters' interests, we at least have some amazing news from Washington.
Yes, tonight, I can exclusively reveal that a much younger Donald Trump conspired with a much, much younger Vladimir Putin to assassinate  the greatest ever Hillarycrat statesman,
 President John FitzFuck'em Kennedy.
That's right, Channel Four can reveal that it was not Lee Harvey Oswald who killed Democracy's one true Messiah but Donald Trump, now masquerading as President  of our great nation.
And yes, viewers, Channel Four, or actually the taxpayer, will be chartering a LearJet to fly me to Washington, where, I can dribble in front  of the Capitol for you but for now we are joined by former British Democrat Prime Minister, Gordon  Snot.
Snotty, what's your reaction.

Well, Jon, it is the right thing for the nation and indeed  for the universe, which I have previously saved from Socialism that I deliver the sol-you-shun


Mark said...

RIP Mr Ishamel and condolences to Mrs Ishmael.

Dick the Prick said...

Dear Mrs Ishmael

I would have loved to have met him but assume, like me, we'd have fuck all to say in real life. A series of 'well, that's perfectly normal' gestures and civil behaviours masking the inner fury, contempt yet comedy of it all. I've known him in the blogosphere for 15 years now and he always made me absolutely howl with wit and bloody hard work - that he gave us this stuff for free is truly bloggy action. He started off slow but then could just do a stream of consciousness paragraph that hit every note - a symphony of satirical comedy gold. The format of the blog meant that you had to respond to the chap who posted just a bit above you (very basic) so it was all about speed and Ishmael could just type art.

I'm not sure you know but someone took the trouble to archive as many of the Stanislav posts he made at Guido's before he totally clocked him as a neo-con cunt on the take and kindly, politely, told him to go fuck himself. Which as it happens, he did! I will find the link if anyone wants it but on an old computer.

I am so very sorry for your loss and my very deepest condolences and I hope it wasn't too bad in the end. All the very best to you and yours.

With amazing giggles and huge fucking thanks xx


Mrs ishmael said...

Thank you, mr dtp, and all you Ishmaelites who have poured out your kind words and deep appreciation of my husband. I've known him for 35 years, and have loved his writing and his fine mind, from early beginnings in magazine essays and letters-to-editors, to contributions to others' blogs and to the flowering of his talent in Callmeishmael. He just wanted to write. He couldn't be bothered to market his writing - he felt that he didn't need the money and didn't want to be distracted from what he was good at - analysis, humour and giving the unrighteous a damn good blogging. He had an elephantine memory for political events, as you've seen on his postings, and, having achieved the age of almost 70(although he really felt he was about 14), he had lived through many political events that the principal actors would rather had been forgotten.I think he had a damn astute mind, an irreverent and scatological approach and was bloody funny. I also think he was deeply influential, especially when I hear the phrases he coined entering the language, mouthed by politicians and interviewers.
I think the time has come for some industrious souls to pull all this together, from Guido, from internet nooks and crannies, and from the saved archives of folk who thwarted his own hyper-critical destruction of his work. I'm afraid he had his own Bonfire of the Vanities a few months ago, and a lot of his writing disappeared in the garden incinerator. But what has remained should be in-gathered (serious proper Scotch word) preserved and republished. A book would be good. He thought his stuff didn't have a long shelf-life. Granted,some was very much of the moment, but there was much that was timeless, and I'd certainly like to read it again. I could do with a laugh.

Dick the Prick said...

My Dearest Mrs Ishmael. I shall do my best. This interweb thing has been an amazing invention and I think he saw it for what is was - a glorious way to communicate that has just been made up in the last 15 years and he was the vanguard - honest, not invent. This is a medium of amzing possibilities and on the tiny, little blackboard he rocked up on at Guido's felt like a crest of a wave - who's this lad, no need to kill 'em all quite yet - oh, hang on a minute!!

Only a kid at 44 but he did offer a couple of times to help out if I needed it. He probably helped me out a 1,000 times without realising thinking about the giggles. I have most of the blog stuff, I think. Lilith, Elby, Anna Raccoon, Beast of Bolsover (who had Philip Hitchens genuinely chasing him). All of 'em - all of them still are fair game. But yeah, got the Guido archive too - think Lilith did that but don't quote me. An absolute joy, my darling xx

Dr. Yllek said...

Dear Mrs. Ishmael,
Condolences and all that. We all loved him, not as much as he loved you but still.
I am trying to be clever but failing the job. He is really missed.

Tdg said...

The archive from Guido is here:

I am not the curator, but from memory it is comprehensive.

Mike said...

I spent about 12 hours yesterday reading from aplumberslogic. All excellent stuff, even more incandescent in those days. What struck me though was that without living through and understanding the politics, personalities and events at the time of those pieces a lot of the satire and wit would be lost. It all came back for me, but for others? Its almost as it needs the occasional edit or historical reminder to give the context? Although this would distract from the flow, of course.

Anonymous said...

Dear Mrs Ishmael

How sad to hear this news. A "fine mind" indeed and someone whose words I shall greatly miss. RIP Mr Ishmael.

Bungalow Bill said...

Nails the hopeless end of Labour this piece; he had a true satirist's eye and ear for the false and corrupt, but he was equally alert to the well-crafted and beautiful.

SG said...

A fine last salvo Mrs I - delivered from a very big gun. Condolences once again...

Anonymous said...

Well put, Mr Mike - that's why I proposed a Best Of compilation, I think, instead of an exhaustive collection. Should be plenty of stuff that would need minimal contextualising - "A Feast of Jamie" (Christmas recipe apocalypse) springs to mind, and "Stanislav on Cunt" (his utterly serious and blisteringly funny defence of verbal abuse.) There were excellent (and heartbreaking) essays on Buster, as well, of course. A book, Mrs Ishmael, would be possible once the material has been chosen - it's just a matter of fitting text into a template from (say), converting to pdf and uploading. Fiddly but works out ok in the end. I'll try to help if required.


Mike said...

Mr Verge: #MeToo. I'm sure there are a few of us regulars here to would be willing, ready and able - and actually have a bloody good time - helping put this together. I feel its the least we can do to give something back. A sort of proper memorial. As I said earlier, this material is too good to be lost. The Buster period was particularly heartbreaking. Also, I always wondered what happened to the missing cat?

mrs narcolept said...

My sincerest sympathy, mrs ishmael x

A book would be so right.

Mrs Ishmael said...

Thank you, everyone,you are all so warm and wonderful. There's one last piece from Ishmael to post - a Farewell to Arms, then I shall hand over to Mrs woman on a Raft. The last post is a fragment only, written when he was ill,but it shows how much the commentariat meant to him. As for a book, I'm not clever enough nor technically savvy, but Mrs Raft may be able to do something with his literary legacy.

Anonymous said...

Dear Mrs Ishmael.

Deepest condolences for your loss.

I have followed Stanislav from afar since his Guido days, through the Screwtape letters, Christmas menu, visitors with camper vans and now to Ishmael.

Reading his essays was to see a force of nature at work. He will be sorely missed.

A collection of his writings in book or online form would be an excellent memorial.

RIP Mr Ishmael

Oldrightie said...

What a terrible loss. He will be ever in my thoughts every time I log on to my own small effort. An inspirational mind deserving of being remembered for decades to come. Those of us attuned to his commentaries, not least that of Christmas last, feel most fortunate to have enjoyed his incisive, acerbic and always wry pieces. Every one a gem.

Your time together must have been and will forever be a precious beacon of how people can truly be decent. Even when all around us swirls the hypocrisy and hubris he so expressed horror for and served us all so well in his justifiable venom against.

I have a phrase for bereavement. "Grieve with sadness, remember with joy." His spirit will always be with us.

Anonymous said...

Thanks, Mr Mike. I think it might take a while, but will certainly be worth it. My first attempts have failed; I scanned a sample essay (apparently unlocatable online) from my printed stash but immediately came up against the brick wall of my technical shortcomings - I managed to save the scan as a Word file but couldn't find any way to edit the text (necessary for the transfer to a further document that could in time become a paperback book.) Not to worry: for a Stanislav compendium, we could copy/paste text from the earliest Ishmael blogposts, then cherry-pick from the selection available on the plumberslogic blog, and beyond that I'll (slowly but surely, with a bit of luck) simply type out the ones that strike me as killers from my printed copies of Stanislav material dated between 2008 and 2010, approx. To be clear, I am not proposing to take charge of this or have any kind of final say, merely to get things rolling.

On a tiresome pragmatic note, towards the end of the process it would help if any Ishmaelites with legal expertise could give advice on whether English libel law might be a problem - as I understand it, satire is no defence in the UK and the Strangeways sojourn of Savoy Books writer David Britton is worth bearing in mind (obscenity in Britton's case, not libel, but you see what I mean.)


seekingjusticeuk said...

My dear Mrs Israel,
I'm very sorry to hear this news about your loss. 
Our deepest condolences to you and all your family.
We are all more than words or even thoughts. 
We are and having lived, always will be. 
You never stop missing them but as years pass the loss gets easier to bear.
I don’t want to add to your tears, but I know how you feel. 
It will get better, a bit, eventually.
We are sure you will hold him in your memories close and dear.

May your own God Bless you and yours – keep your chin up. 
Our prayers are with him.

Anonymous said...

I don't think i ever commented here, quite honestly i was always in awe of Mr Ishmael and anything i had to say would never do his writings justice.

I always read the pieces out to my wife, she and i roared with laughter at how he could so easily rip those oh so pretentious media clowns and politicians apart, this particular essay well up there with his best.
His awful nicknames for those truly awful people were and are gems,but they richly they deserved them and then some.

My deepest condolences to you Ma'am.

I would love to buy a book of Mr Ishmael's writings if those with the necessary skills can put it all together.


Mike said...

Mr Verge: legal issues had crossed my mind as well. The only thing I know from my occasional brushes with contract law is that the one with the deepest pockets wins. Also, the other issue that occurred was regarding copyright: particularly for the Stanislav posts published by Fawkes. Certainly, any secondary replies would be in doubt. I'm not a legal expert.

Caratacus said...

Thank you Mr. Old Rightie - I suspect that your gracious words reflect the feelings of all of Mr. I's readership.