Friday 3 April 2020

You are Jerry Corbyn and your specialist subject is...


Laura Alvarez said today: “It has been incredibly hard for me to watch my husband vilified and to hear his words twisted by his political opponents and some in the media. It has been even harder to watch him be attacked by his own party.”
and as we usher out Laura Alvarez's husband, here are a few fragments from mr ishmael's drafts :



I remember being horrified the first time I read 1984 by the idea that truth in the hands of the ruling party was infinitely malleable, and could be distorted and manipulated to fit whatever the party deemed to be its purpose. That sense of outrage has come back to me since Corbyn won the leadership, and the lies and distortions began, at first in a steady trickle, and now, since the referendum, in an ugly flood.
This article is only one of many examples of the process whereby a slander can be repeated so often that it enters the collective consciousness, not as a truth, for everyone knows that it is not that, but as a lie which supports the comfortable position of conformity. Corbyn has become the whipping boy, the impertinent upstart who can be safely punished in the place of the true culprits, the venial authors of both austerity and Brexit. Having cast him in this role, the bullies of the PLP and their supporters in the faux-liberal media will not now rest until they see him hounded back to the backbenches where they claim he belongs. It is a shameful spectacle, and when histories are written of this period those who contributed to the process will be named and reviled as they deserve.
And instead of Corbyn, what are we offered as a choice? A pair of careerist mediocrities with not a policy between them. Two candidates so alike in their lack of qualities that one might as well toss a coin to decide which of them should be leader. One might as well anyway, since the sole purpose of their candidacy is not to provide the Labour Party with a far sighted and honourable leader but to unseat the one we already have.
 

You are Jerry Corbyn and your specialist subject is proper names. Jerry, you have two minutes on the name game.

Well, John, as you very well know proper is a loaded term, one which I have avoided  my whole political life. Can we not just use the much less perjorative terms of gentile or non-gentile names

As you wish, Jerry. What was the name of the Beatles' manager?


Ah, easy, although I think you mean bloodsucking parasite rather than manager, and that was Brian ben Epschtein.

Wrong, it was Brian Epstein.

.........................................................................................


And Mr. Ishmael's thoughts on one of J.C's sparring partners:

 I would like to apologise to the nation; annointing me, a Remainer,  to lead a nation which had just voted to Leave was a staggering impertinence and I should not have agreed to it; I was desperate to be prime minister and this blinded me to Decency, Honesty and Truth.
 

16 comments:

Anonymous said...

Gosh, that's an alarming photo at the end. "Don't go dogging when you're diabetic", sort of thing. Nurse, where's my mind-bleach?

v./

mrs ishmael said...

now, now, mr verge, medication time.

Bungalow Bill said...

The lazy gobshite, Rawnsley. Purveyor of cocksure vacuities in the finest modern style, offering it all as seasoned wisdom. But he's a mere tick. Listen instead to Larry Fink, CEO of BlackRock with a humble, climate-aware $8 trillion or so under management.

Larry says go long and stay invested. This is not 2008 because the banks are not under fire and we can stand a short(ish) deep shock to boring normal businesses, even to some quite large ones actually; and let's face it the whole thing was getting rather overheated in late 2019/early 2020 anyway (pre-Coronamonster, please note), no harm done in letting off some steam and correcting some unhelpful imbalances for the right people.

And there were we, worrying. Listen indeed to Larry because what Larry says tends to come true, sooner or later; and if later means some damage along the way, then so be it. Good news, though, in all seriousness; they've decided that it's only going to be very bad for a certain tolerable while, and then a watery sun will be allowed to come out again. Hallelujah.

Bungalow Bill said...

Brilliant, again, from Mr I, I should have said. You look back to the finest journalists: Conor Booze O'Brien, Alan Watkins, Michael Wharton, Auberon Waugh and you feel a pang and a loss.

mongoose said...

I was one of Jezza's 3 quid warriors, mrs i. I feel a little ashamed now. But only a little. Mr I loved his Labour Party though in way that I never did. Put not your faith in princes - especially political ones. Silly Trot ones or blue-arsed Tory ones, theyare the same lies. They'd sell their SPADs for another ten minutes at the top table. The trough is the trough, and the snout is the snout. It doesn't matter what colour ribbon the snout sports.

Indeed I have never understood getting emotional about partty politics. I get such about things, issues but not parties. And I was born into that post-war poverty that almost all of us shared and out of which education eventually dragged only some of us.

Of course, I have overlooked that I am an old Liberal and I do get emotional about that. Have y'all noticed the rise of honour and politeness these last weeks? The standing to the side so as not to discomfort one's unknown neighbour down the way? That's Liberalism. Live your life, pay your way when you can, and hurt nobody. There is hope yet. A 2m separation with gentleness.

Mike said...

I'd almost forgotten Mrs May. Its good to be reminded that things could be worse.

corby's big green bogey - left thoughtfully stuck on the front bench said...

mr daydream is of course quite right: unlike the incumbent intransigent old bugger, one cannot in a million marxist-reverie-replete lifetimes imagine the soon-to-be-disgorged ersatz jeremy coffee-bean - alternatively known as the incoming socialist-sub, or even sub-socialist, leader - in any wanky way standing tall and strong against the evil undiluted oppressions of neo-colonialism and neo-imperialism - concepts now collectively and euphemistically termed 'neo-liberalism' - yet on the contrary, rather sadly envisages this soon-to-be-displayed soulless cia-subsidized-spanner signing up fast-as-greased-lightening to participation in each and every new weapon-of-mass-darkicide-programme, and naughty neo-conservative-race-war, whose corrupt misconception slip-slimes insidiously and inexorably out of the primæval washington swamp - for this, and only this, will be his-or-her prime, and common, and nauseatingly non-gender-specific, political purpose.

the labour-party indubitably lost the 2019 general election on account of preferring to dump british democracy in favour of european totalitarianism - a putrid globalist policy to which one cannot sincerely believe career euro-sceptic and anti-imperialist corbyn would ever have so casually subscribed without a fully loaded cia-magnum first being anti-socially stuffed into his shivering wife's mexican mush - however the sheer cynical genius of corbyn's creepy in-house chamæleon-assassins is that - due to the multi-media-facetious smear-campaign with which he was, at the sly hands of own traitorous comrades, mean-spiritedly and personally winged - the expressively evasive electorate - when later quizzed as to its reasons for abruptly abandoning the so-called socialist mob - rushed - in an unholy synchronized sanctuary-seeking spate of almost pre-programmed criticism-deflection - to defensively cite - as fair-minded grounds for decisive tribal desertion - not disgust at this scab-party's refusal to honour the lawful result of the 2016-referendum, and its ethical mentor's signature-failure - in contravention with his 2017-manifesto-pledge - to commit to eu-withdrawal, but somewhat incongruously - given he had formerly won the grudging respect of this selfsame volatile voting-bloc - the historic horror of corbyn's frightful fanaticism and alleged unconscionable anti-semitism as the loony leftist faction's radical bearded figurehead, and it transpired that - inestimably grateful to bask in the welcome relief of avoiding the noxious neo-liberal label of 'euro-allergic racist' - this silently swinging electoral marginality conversely, counter-intuitively, and all-too-conveniently, preferred therefore not to mention - as reasons to be fearful of the dictatorial nigger-bombing pseudo-socialist bastards - the bourgeois labour-party-machine's brazen anti-democratic betrayal of working-class-voters - the very people indeed, who had originally, and responsibly, one might recall, made the informed moral choice to leave the european blood-mineral-empire of social cleansing, political suppression, and racial exploitation.

mrs ishmael said...

Draw breath, mr cbgb, and relax. It really doesn't matter that much. As mr mongoose says, they are all sisters under the skin. Laura Alvarez' remarks yesterday (and who'd have thought?)sent me truffling through mr ishmael's drafts to find something to mark the occasion. Like a Hari Seldon psychohistory moment. mr ishmael had a bit of a soft spot for J.C. and when he got the leadership we hoped that this would mark a return to party politics, as opposed to the same bunch of over-privileged public-school boys pretending to be on opposite sides of the House by donning different coloured ties. mr ishmael quickly lost the soft spot as it turned out that J.C.s spine was altogether absent, the consorting with terrorists thing was a stumbling block too far and J.C. was entirely unable to prevent the shadow front bench fighting like rats in a sack.
We're of a generation, mr mongoose, post war poverty, not much stuff, make do and mend, every man (certainly up north) had his allotment and his favourite composting tips and the proper Labour ethos was bred into mr ishmael and I. Welfare State. Good ol' Mr Wilson and his Open University and education for all. There isn't such a Party any more and hasn't been since Tony decided that "Past glories are poor feeding.”
― Isaac Asimov, Foundation

mrs ishmael said...

"Good news, though, in all seriousness; they've decided that it's only going to be very bad for a certain tolerable while, and then a watery sun will be allowed to come out again."
Does this mean, mr bungalow bill, that I'm excused tattie-planting? Wasn't looking forward to it.

Bungalow Bill said...

That would be a bonus Mrs I. Available labour shouldn’t be an issue though, if required. What do we think of Sir Keir QC? Dull, maybe?

mrs ishmael said...

A glittering star of the Establishment, although the wiki entry tells us: "he identifies as a socialist", Sir Keir is the proud possessor of no less than 6 Honorary degrees, and holds the following Ruritanian honours:
Queen's Counsel, Knight Commander of the Order of the Bath, Sworn of the Privy Council of the United Kingdom, Honorary Fellow of St Edmund Hall in Oxford and awarded his Knighthood in 2014 for services to law and criminal justice. Hardly a horny-handed man of the people, nor a graduate of the trade union movement. He is unlikely to do anything to challenge the forces of law and order, nor to bring them to book, as evidenced by his refusal to prosecute police officers either in the killing of Jean Charles de Menezes or Ian Tomlinson, when Director of Public Prosecutions.
Currently feasting on the cold, dead flesh of our Jerry, having finally made it to the top of the greasy pole.

Anonymous said...

"he identifies as a socialist" - I like that, very Zeitgeisty, like a badger that identifies as a hedgehog, or a snake that insists it's a cow.

v./

corby's big green bogey - still left thoughtfully stuck on the front bench said...

sorry, in order to assist the comprehension, i should perhaps add a his - as in "at the sly hands of his own traitorous comrades" - and a the - as in "fair-minded grounds for the decisive tribal desertion".

oh gawd-blimey, a personality-free non-entity is born into the enforced emotional vacuum of a medically fucking pointless lock-down...

but anyhow - returning to the sobering subject of, sadly, a probably short-lived corbynite peace-legacy - i think it worth reminding ourselves of major world events occurring since the sensational sargasso-sea-change in labour-leadership in 2015, and you know, in fact - with the shamefully glaring exception of the sick serial civil horror which has been allowed to intensify, almost unchecked, in yemen, and which, in all fairness, corbyn's absurdly shambolic shampoo-cabinet, when not bitterly and fatuously squabbling over brexit, has vainly struggled to bring to international attention - it's quite evident, to the psychically trained observer, that the metaphysically unstated - and for-the-main-part actually non-existent - corbyn-trump spiritual anti-establishment-alliance has - with the incidental intermittent help of frantic frank-speaking farage-phone-calls to the white house - generally speaking, saved our already seriously compromised souls from fatal fresh outbreaks and inextinguishable escalations of nasty neo-colonial war in the middle-east and africa, and therefore although not myself even claiming to be a socialist, i sincerely nevertheless hope that those crackhead crypto-neo-con-creeps, who have unchivalrously brought down old anti-neo-conflict-codger corbyn - and by dint of the deplorably deviant device of their cia-manufactured corona-viris-crisis, are right this very minute attempting not only to stealthily siphon off exponential sums of public cash into the covert coffers of their furiously fiddling financier-accomplices, but also sabotage both the uk's democratically agreed withdrawal from the european union and the glorious political career of poor old president scrump - will bloody-well all go to hell in hillary clinton's - or maybe even hilary benn's - $3500 ralph lauren handbag, because, mark my words, with old comrade corbyn prematurely put-out-to-grass - and the pathetic pushover-presence of a cia-crafted cardboard-cut-out-cartoon-character capably taking his place in parliament on the opposition-front-bench - the temporarily discontinued war-on-wogs is obviously once more looming loud and levant-large on the holocaust hill's horizon - and as i still type, possibly already being meticulously and perniciously planned, by weapon-wanking washington-warlords, against syria, and iran, and by extension therefore also against russia, and even kung flu challenged china-town herself - and yes, of course, i agree that, like johnson, codger corbyn was evidently no president trump, but unfortunately even the old grump-in-a-slump will soon have to perform one mighty mental modern-day miracle to escape the trump-sized elephant-trap which - god-bless - has so sneakily been sprung upon him by the cruel corona-crisis-merchants of doom, gloom, global control and total undemocratic domination, who - if they, by health-scare-hysterical-hook or by crafty-market-crash-triggering-crook, ultimately succeed in fraudulently free-flipping their mega-neo-corrupt gropey guy, or god-help-us neo-clinton-clawed gal, into the continual crusade and cruise-missile ovulating orifice - will surely socio-genetically engineer the end of all human life as we now know it.

euro-smarmtrooper said...

oh yuck, what's this big fat fuckin' bogey doing on my seat...?

...and oh holy shit: the senile old cunt's even carved "stop the war" into the fuckin' despatch box, for chrissakes.

bungdaload boris said...

hey guys, now the vulnerable old git's resigned, how about you all come 'round my place for tea and corona-cakes...?

corby's big green bogey - left thoughtfully stuck on the front bench said...

@corby's big green bogey - left thoughtfully stuck on the front bench


i think i missed a trick by omitting to use "remain" instead of "is" directly after "chamæleon-assassins" - this sentence should have perhaps read:

"however the sheer cynical genius of corbyn's creepy in-house chamæleon-assassins remains that..."