Tuesday 27 July 2010

POLICING: BACK TO THE FIFTIES, SAYS HOME SECKATRY, MRS SHOE FETISH

LAWANORDER, TIME LORD WANTED.




 A RETURN TO FETISH FOOTWEAR, 
JUST LIKE IN THE GOOD OLD DAYS,
SAYS THERESA SHOES, MP, 
BACK IN TIME WITH ME,
IT'S THE ONLY WAY FORWARD.

THE BOOTS, MR TINY SPEAKER,
ARE ON THE OTHER FEET NOW, AREN'T THEY? 
AFTER THIRTEEN YEARS OF FLAT, GRUMPY
NEWLABOUR FOOTWEAR,
THE NATION CAN HAVE THE SUEDE BOOTS POLICIES  IT DESERVES
(NOT TO BE WORN OUTSIDE THE BEDROOM OR THE TV STUDIO)



I'M GOING TO STAMP-OUT CRIME,
PROMISES MAD OLD LADY

MRS SHOES AND BOOTS SPEAKING ON THE TODAY PROGRAMME'S
SHOE FOR THE DAY SLOT, AND WASNT IT JESUS, JOHN,
WHO SAID, TAKE WHAT THEY  HAVE FROM THE POOR
AND BUY YOURSELF NEW SHOES AND BOOTS?
I THINK YOU'LL FIND IT WAS.
HOME SECKATRY DANCES THE HOKEY-COKEY:
YOU PUT A BURGLAR IN, YOU LET A RAPIST OUT
IN-OUT, IN-OUT, SHAKE IT ALL ABOUT.


RESTORATIVE JUSTICE

AND I'M GOING, MR TINY SPEAKER,
TO MAKE YOUNG OFFENDERS LICK MY SHOES.
AND YOU, TOO,
IF YOU'RE NOT CAREFUL.
AND I COMMEND MY SHOES ANDS BOOTS
TO THE HOUSE.
COMPLETE WITH ODOUR-EATERS.


In other news, Coalition to augment bent police chiefs with elected bent police chiefs, police constables to be made to read job description, voluntary police work to be made compulsory.

Justice Seckatry,

Mr Kenny Clarke of Kenny Clarke and his Tory Jazzmen said, Well, that's all very well but if you ask me, Mr Tiny Speaker - and I have been home seckatry, and helf seckatry and chancellor and schools seckatry - if you ask me, Mr Tiny Speaker,  the right honourable lady hasn't a fucking clue what she's talking about, all very well,  slutting about in latex combat boots,  but what the fuck does she know about home sackatrying ;  Humphrey Lyttleton, though, he was a coppers' copper. Ah one-two-three Come on along, come on along, lemme take you by the hand, up to the man, up to the man, who is the leader of the band, and I don't mean CallHimDave and his gimp, neither.

Saturday 24 July 2010

AN INSULT TO THE NATIONAL INTELLIGENCE.

KEIR STARMER,  QC AND DIRECTOR OF PUBLIC PROSECUTIONS. OR NOT, MIGHT THEY EMBARRASS THE STATE.


...and having considered all the evidence, we have decided that it is
simply not possible to get a fair Keir Starmer.

THEY SHOOT HORSES, DON''T THEY? John Prine Steve Goodman, Souvenirs, Steve Goodman, You're the Girl I Love.

John Prine has the knack of Song; somebody said his music should be available on prescription to anyone hurting from Life's blows; funny, deft, razor-sharp yet gently, compassionately human and all in three chords or fewer,  John Prine has made valid the often pointless and overblown occupation of singer-songwriter.

Although he has produced a huge canon of work, Speed of the Sound Of Loneliness and Souvenirs are maybe his most well-known, well-covered works - one more "hit", therefore, than Richard Thompson - and his early partnership with the late Steve Goodman produced some of the nicest, well-judged second guitar work among a crowded galaxy of showier, Seventies pickers. Goodman's solo song, following this famous version of Souvenirs, shows just how good, how perfect he was on a big dreadnought, always enough, never too much. Eulogised still, even here, by some of our American readers, Goodman, dead and hallowed, will never inspire the discomfort and embarrassment of John Prine's current performances, seen in the second clip, below.

I have heard that Prine is ill, not long for this world, but that's no excuse for this shit and I never understand why people do this stuff beyond the time that they should, this is like Rembrandt taking a Stanley knife to a Rembrandt and proves, if it needed proving, that the Baby Boomers are rich in much, although not in dignity.





Thursday 22 July 2010

JUST A THIN BLUE LINE SEPARATING US FROM DECENCY.



HOODLUM WILL NOT FACE CHARGES. COUNTRY NOT OVERWHELMED WITH SURPRISE, SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL BOBBY. IF YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOOD FOR YOU.

WHAT THE PAPERS SAY, THE FILTH-O-GRAPH. Coalition confusion as Nick Clegg tells Commons that the Iraq war was illegal The invasion of Iraq was illegal, Nick Clegg has declared throwing into confusion the Coalition Government's policy.

COALITION ILLEGAL, SAYS NICKY THE GIMP,
DEPUTY PRIME MINISTER

Standing-in for his master at Master's Questions Time, Mr Nicky Gimp, formerly of the Liberal Democrats, accused himself of acting illegally in leading the country illegally into an illegal coalition. Millions of lives will be damaged by this act. Am I proud of myself? Of course I am. Would I have done anything to stand at this Despatch Box and talk complete bollocks whilst my former colleagues looked on in stunned embarrassment, or looked the other way in shame as I cheered policies exactly opposite to my own? Of course I would. This is the New Politics, Mr Tiny Speaker. People may not like it.  I don't like it. And when I get home at night to my darling Maria Elena Consuela Theresa Tortilla Pancho de Los Angeles do I get enfolded on her warm Spanish Paellas? No, of course I don't. Por favor, Nicky, you are not the same man I married, you are 'ow you say, a deesgusting fucking pervert, who let another hombre tie eem the fuck up and wheep hees arse, Ole, Santa Maria, Madre de Dios  and so on,  that's what I get. But let's be clear about something, throwing people out of work, slashing their living standards, chastising, slandering,  belittling  them  and generally acting like a spiteful, deceitful little turd is exactly what I came into politics to do. Am I incompetent? Well, it's a question I often ask myself, as I lick the soles of the Prime Minister's shoes, and the answer is always the same -   Does the Pope Shit In the Woods?

My party, Mr Tiny Speaker, my party, I would remind subs and doms on all sides of the dungeon, I mean house, my party, the one I used to be in before I took up my nationally important gimp duties, was the only party opposed to this illegal coalition. And that's why we are in it. And I commend myself to anyone still listening.

WHAT FRESH SHIT IS THIS?

 LOW FRIENDS IN HIGH PLACES.
 
EVERY PICTURE TELLS A STORY

 Conrad Black's gang of slimy,  moneygrubbing supporters has - apart from Mr Hague, of JCB, who, it must be said, Mr Tiny Speaker, conferred ay very useful peerage on ay great journalist and ay most successful thieving fucking bastard - all but left the stage; Kissinger and Thatcher, directors of his company,  in exchange for a few grand,  used to sign-off his bent accounts and the last gang of braying pinstripe  Tory spivs, Tebbit and Co - great man, tells it like it is, racist, sexist, bent as a nine-bob note get on yer bike, Norm, only not, like him, the whining guttersnipe,  onto  the board of Telecoms which he privatised; former employee of al Fayed, now gobby bumboy to the freakish Barclay Twins -  spin out their meagre years filibustering for filth in the shitrags; hard to see how, their paid slags dead or dying,  Black and Babs could re-establish their  loathsome partying lifestyles on this side of the pond.  But you never know, maybe he could bring his great historian's skills to the task of entrenching CallHimDave in the Myth of Elected  Premiership;  these right-wing demagogues, Truth doesn't figure, does it, no more than it troubled the Gang of Four. Maybe, as a Coalition peer, Black might help CallHimDave address the  problems of Broken Britain, as they proceed to smash it up completely.

The Supreme Court, though, rewriting the law and letting the old tosser out on bail, what's all that about?

Seems to me that anyone who can count to ten on their fingers can see that Black, at Babs's urging, was spensing money he didn't have, somebody else's money, little people's money.  As the entire working class of the developed world is now chastised and impoverished for the sins of Capital, is the release of this turd just a piece of icing on  its shitty, immune from prosecution cake, first Goldman Sachs, then Fred Goodwin, now this cunt? Answers, please, in the usual form.

Wednesday 21 July 2010

DAVE OVER AMERICA,


In 1940 we were the jumior partner in the fight against the Nazis.


When dealing with criminals, the state should not show compassion;
we should be as bad as them. That's my philosphy.


Unable to win a general election, myself,  I have come to a foreign country 
to   criticise the previous government of my own.  That's how clever I am.


I was elected  and formed the coalition.
(to Diane Sawyer, ABC News) 

Just a slip of the tongue. Being elected as an MP is just the same as being elected PM.

Tuesday 20 July 2010

HEIR TO BLAIR LICKS WHITE HOUSE ARSE


CRUFTS RUNNER-UP, CALLHIMDAVE.

US poodle, CallHimDave, has been trained to roll over on the White House lawn and to lick the private parts of a gang of redneck  fuckpig Senators, anxious to be re-elected on the basis of a Jock-bashing  agenda.  Vote4Me, said Senator Jasper Motherfucker the Third, from Wyoming, because I want that Ayrab motherfucker back in jail even if the cocksucker's dead and gone to Allah, lock his ass back up in Scotlandland, or better still, fry his ass, dead or alive, fry his ass, nothin' smell sweeter than a sizzling raghead, I hate them sonsafuckinbitches, Vote4Me.

President Obama is said to consider it vital that no embarrassing questions be asked about the CIA and the Lockerbie Disaster. But blaming the Brits and blaming BP for what was probably an American black-op is the way to stop the Democrats melting down, come November's elections. My fellow motherfuckers, he said, addressing the nation on TeeVee. What's at issue here is not guilt or innocence, what's at issue is far more important than that, it's my re-election at stake here and I want all decent patriotic Merkin motherfuckers to know that I'll say and do anything to bring about that noble goal and if, my fellow motherfuckers, you want me to nuke Scotlandland then I'm here to tell you that, Yes, we fuckin' well can.

Now, got me a new dawg here an everytime I feel mean, I can kick his ass.  An he's easy trained. Only yesterday the sonofabitch was sayin he wouildn't go and lick them Senators' balls an' assholes, but today he's doin' it even better than that other Poodle done, wossisname, the guy we're funneling all that money to, the one with the wife looks like you could park a Humvee in her kisser, Imelda, that's her. 'Sa great day for Merka, motherfuckers, got me my own poodle, CallHimDave, Here, Boy!

DOWN, LIMEYBOY.



 Great to see the unelected prime minsiter of the UK saying one thing one day and doing the opposite the next. Must be the New Politics.

WHAT THE PAPERS SAY, THE FILTH-O-GRAPH, OWNER OF CORNWALL AND WALES IN ACT OF REMEMBRANCE.

BRIAN AND FAGASH LIL BEING APPALLED
ABOUT SOMETHING.

What a life this bloke has, eh? Airhead, bimbo former wife being a nuisance and Fuck me gently, as if by magic, a drunken driver solves the problem, Jesus, if only all those plagued by exes were so fortunate.  And the money, the seventeen mill she had hustled off Mummy Brenda, just - via "those outstanding, exemplary, young men" ( J. Major, aged 52 ) - hoovered back into the family fortunes. And no more talk of wog babies or coke-snorting with playboys. How fortunate. And the old boot, he and Horseface finally managed to tie the knot, after all those years of rutting adultery, all the courtiers  politely looking the other way. And the whole thing stage managed to win the happy couple the love of the people. Even though they are a revolting, idle pair of slags,  the Duke and Duchess of Cornwall.

But doesn't he work hard, riding around in the Royal Train and cutting ribbons. Sometimes, he only gets six weeks at his favourite ski-ing resort,  just the kind of man we need in CallHimDave's Big Society.

Anyway, here he is in his medals, doing what he does best, fuck all.  They dug up some WW1 remains, some fucked-up  episode of Brigadier-General Rupert Golightly-Jockstrap-inspired slaughter and were busy giving the lads, mostly ANZACS, mostly teenagers, one of those belated wotsanames, burial with full military honours, nearly a hundred years after they were butchered and so they sent for this useless prick, so's he could be appalled or humbled or inspired or whichever fretful adjective he chooses to distinguish his worthless presence, lets send for Brian, he can do that appalled shit like no-one else, yes, let him bring the old baggage, too, if he wants, so's the relatives can see what their lads died for, King and Country. And Doxy.  Couldn't make it up..


Tomorrow in the Filth-O-Graph.

David Cameron on why we simply must scrap state education, the NHS  and the old-age pension but we must retain a huge, cardboard, cut-out Ruritanian monarchy with princes and dukes in uniforms, on horses  and covered in medals for fuck all.

PLUS: Dave and Brenda, How They Are Related.




AN APOLOGY


HOW COULD SOMEONE TWICE DISGRACED, 
PLAYTHING OF RUSSIAN GANGSTERS, 
AND DISHONEST AS THE DAY IS LONG 
WALTZ INTO THE POSITION OF DEPUTY PRIME MINISTER
AND  FIRST SECRETARY FOR EVERYTHING?

Ever since we have been blogging, commenting or writing to the newspapers, my young friend, stanislav and I, have chosen to refer to the former Labour Party as the Blair-Brown-Campbell-Mandelstein Project and we have characterised it's central, abiding  theme as being the power of potential mutual blackmail among that eponymous Quartet of the Damned. Why doesn't Blair sack Brown, why is Mandelstein unsackable, why does a press secretary call the shots;  is it the case that they hang together or are hung separately, what do they all have on each other?


Often we have lamented that the governing of Britain, as well as being largely in the hands and at the whim of shadowy, international gangsters, or financiers as they term themselves, Ambassadors of Greed, and  was rendered more than  customarily incompetent   by the criminality of its central characters. They were hamstrung, suspended in mid-air not only by their amorality, their moral bankruptcy, their dubious, elastic sexuality, their greed and mendacity but  ultimately, in practical terms,  by the unlikelihood that those both driven and constrained by unfulfillable personal vendetta would or could  ever  make objective, nationally beneficial judgements on domestic or foreign policy or on public administration, that they were, in other words, a bunch of cunts.


 Estranged from Truth and Decency, the longer they were in office the grosser became their 
manouevreings; paradoxically, the more distant they personally became  from the rule of Law,  the more furiously they heaped the potential for criminality - a guilty conscience - upon the populace; burning all the money in the Downing Street cellars, forcing rights and liberties and conventions through the shredders, upstairs;  seemed like every time you turned around there was a new law you might be breaking.

Surveillance, molestation by law enforcement, illegal detention, the brutalisation of jurisprudence in HMP Britain and the encouragement of neighbours narking  each upon the other, Stasi-style,  generated in government an  opposite polarity, opposite to the restrictive, looking-over-the-shoulder, paranoid  climate inflicted upon the citizen; theirs was an unchallengeable  lawlessness  which was demonstrated in so many ways  but unequivocally in the shocking and horrifying implementation of  the infamous, inhuman and fatal  sanctions against Iraqi children and the eventual Shock and Awe bombardment and invasion of their country.

Whilst we were at home harangued,  photographed, scolded, barracked, detained, beaten, ejected, confined, batoned, tasered and  shot dead by a constabulary headed by gobby political apparatchiks;  whilst we were at home more legislated against than ever before, our own Gang of Four was engaged, abroad, in crimes against humanity; international law wilfully misinterpreted,  the cassus bellus summonsed from thin air, contemptuously cyber-plagiarised,  fabricated - with a dark aptness -  by a drunken, bisexual  pornographer,  the whole, rotten episode  made glorious by Colonel Rupert Golightly-Jockstrap and eventually vindicated by mealy-mouthed commissions and enquiries, staffed by hand-picked,   lousy, wigged and ermined lickspittles, masters of the full and far-reaching cover-up,  the Wretched of the Oxbridge civil service, pinstripe, weasel popinjays,  whose gilded  careers were  case studies  of Vice made Noble.


David Kelly post mortem to be kept secret for 70 years as doctors accuse Lord Hutton of concealing vital information


All was news-managed from Downing Street, the worthless shit, Brown, bullying and intriguing, Son of the fucking Manse, heedless of warcrime, stewing rancidly in his monstrous  ambition as wog children fried, the horrible fucking bastard; Tony and Imelda, lining-up bribes and freebies, Mandelstein in the background, advising the QueerProject even though notionally Europeanised, apolitical and the drunken bully, Campbell, dominating policy and press, the biggest, most noxious, in the Street of a Thousand Arseholes. 

But instead of there being four Wicked Helmsmen  piloting our poor vessel towards Ruin's shores, we learn, now, from Peter, the Lord Crabs, that there were but three - he, Gordon Snot and the courageous Tony Blair. Whither, in gay Mandelsonia, is my fourth QueerProjecteer  -  house bully, blackguard, Truthshifter and Scenestealer, Mr Alistair Campbell, amiable football fan, loving partner,  father and  brutish, closet homosexual?



An early mentor of NewLabour was, ominously, Mr Rupert Murdoch, proprietor of skymadeupnewsandfilth and a press baron vile beyond caricature, although generous in that he allows many of his employees to moonlight as MPs,  the apologetic, motormouthing Mr Spit-Gove being one of Rupe's boys, throughout his period, soon, praise God, to be reprised, in opposition. Any government alarmed  by the cheapening  of the national discourse, the sexualisation of infants, the bombardment of readers with lust and greed and stupidity and the wholly unwarranted, cruelly destructive intrusion into the lives of ordinary human beings would tell Rupert and his stable of rancid Nazi hacks, Kelvin McCunt and the rest, to go and fuck themeselves, tell Murdoch to  fuck off back to Australia, where crudity such as his is worshipped, where they know no better, where ethnic cleansing is still on the agenda, where Sheilas are treated like shit, where the politicians imbibe stupidity with their mothers' milk. Our politicians being what they are, however, and Murdoch being what he is, there will be another level of blackmail at work, NewsCorp will have unused files bulging with MPs indiscretions and worse, much worse, insurance against anyone attempting to curb the filthy bastard's excess.

Fabulously advantaged inasmuch as no UK government has ever inconvenienced   him unduly with proper taxation, Rupert, as Death's sergeants finally surround him,  has  grown irritated that the content of his newspapers has hitherto been available freely - or for free, as we must now say - online. Lucky surfers could, if they chose, read the  winsome,  fairy burblings of Mr Matthew Dreary,  the fierce, political analysis of Mr Jeremy Clarkson or the reflections of the cowardly Mr Michael Portillo, off the telly,  and those same lucky surfers could add their illiterate, mysoginistic, racist, imbecile comments to a content already pisspoor, occasionally made even worse by the likes of David Beardy Aaronovitch amd the preposterous, pitiful Mr AA Gill.

But no more. Rupert has slammed-shut this treasure chest of fine writing and if people wish to  know what Matthew Parris claims he thinks, they must pay for the privilege.  One might suggest, uncharitably, that the readership of the Times may well decline to the numbers of those who receive the 'paper freely, with their stale, continental breakfasts in Travelodges up and down the land and to those who, from choice or penury, do not own a PC and foregather meekly in the local library to take turns with the broadsheets. Institutions, libraries and boardrooms may find the funds to keep abreast of the doings in Clarkson's mythical, brash, arriviste, petrol-drenched CotswoldiaN  stupor but in these times of very necessary frugality online reading of the Times is unlikely to be prioritised, not when there is so much proper pornography going begging.

Murdoch, anyway,  has  sought to levy a subscription from online readers and in an attempt to glamourise his product, to entice unwary readers into parting with their money in exchange for his  cruel, bigoted drivel,   he has acquired the serialisation rights to Lord Crabs'  latest bouillabaisse  of gossip, innuendo and lies, entitled, and herewith is the apology heralded, The Third Man.

For much of the NewLabour epoch, through personal disgrace,  Mandelstein was, like Mr Alistair Campbell,  unelected, so appointment, rather than election to office should not so nonpersonalise Mr Campbell, nor airbrush him from the sides of both Blair and Snotty, as Lord Crabs has managed, remarkably, to do. Mandelstein was, perforce,  a little more open about his homosexuality than Mr Campbell; where Mandy now publicly revels in his relationships with gay gangsters as well as with previously-owned Brazillians,  such as Reinaldo de los Tory rentboys,



Campbell maintains his fiction of happy domesticity with the  unbeguiling, woefully  hatchet-faced Ms Fiona Miller, formerly Imelda Blair's  paid best friend, by whom he has some children - none of whom, we surmise, he would willingly sacrifice to one of Mr Hoon's illegal fragmentation bombs, however great the 45-minutes-to-toast imperative.

Seeing Mr Campbell teasing and flirting recently with the oafish Adam Lard of skymadeupnewsandfilth, himself wed to former Blair servant, Anji Hunter, was hugely entertaining; heterosexuals, in my experience, seldom play the bitch and the coquette as convincingly as did Campbell, maybe it's just a skill he learned serving the  BitchBlair, a pretty, straight guy and the ButchBrown, happily wed and quite normally fathering children in his dotage, or maybe,  like so many in NewLabour, he swings both ways, any way, as the song goes, the wind blows. It may be that Campbell, in Mandy's memoir,  is seen, if at all, only through frosted glass because he is an oik, cffective at ramrodding the craven filth in the Lobby but plain vulgar,  whereas Lord Crabs, we should remember, confided to the nation, whilst stuffing the Millenium Dome with rubbish, that he was "born to govern," his grandfather virtually a post-war Labour aristocrat, Campbell's, if he knew him at all, probably worked down the pit. And drank pints.

One would think it a snobbery too far to expunge Mr Campbell from the record as Mandelstein has done but Peter is, by his own account,  the owner, the trademark holder of the QueerProject which begat NewLabour and he should know; his, as Rupert will insist, is the Inside Story of  Ruin and if he says there were but three gay conspirators - two with attendant  lavendar spouses - then three it was and all the imagery of Ali and Tony closeted together deciding our fates to the clunking accompaniment of a Prime Minister's Edition Fenders Stratocaster must be errant imaginings, les dossiers sexy et fabrique, we must have dreamed them, Mr Campbell's mateyness with John Shit-Scarlett of MI5, his castration of the BBC and the mysterious matter of the Lonesome Death of David Kelly,  these must be the doings of a lowly penpusher and not a member of the Ruinous Gang of Four, for as Lord Crabs tells us in his penny dreadful it was but a Ruinous Gang of Three. And it was his. Mea culpa, mea culpa.


THE THIRD MAN.

Saturday 17 July 2010

TORY GLAMOURPUSS IN CAR CRASH. Zac Goldsmith makes an arse of himself about election expenses (C4 News,...




One of CallHimDave's A List celebrity wankers, now an MP, crashed his car all over the Channel Four News studio last night. Mr Zac Fishpaste, son of the happily late Sir Jams Fishpaste, thug, bully and philanderer, brother of the uberslappertotty, Jemimah-Kahn-Fishpaste and dilletante environmentalist chum of CallHimHighness Charles Windsor, Zac, like his Dad, is an obnoxious prick, his veneer of civility bubbling and peeling away rapidly should he not get his way. Unlike CallHimDave, whose drug use is "private," Zac was expelled from Eton for smoking dope - no, really, maybe the Head loathed, as did most people, Zac's pater, must have been something special in Zac's case, or they'd have been throwing-out all the little fuckers - but is otherwise as repellent as, well, most of the front bench.

Friday 16 July 2010

SCOTLAND, BEST PART OF ENGLAND. McSKYMADEUPNEWSANDFILTH.

ListenToMe McWhirter, of the Glasgow Herald 
and scourge of the workers.

For those dwelling outwith the best part of England, unaware of Scottish, for want of a better word, journalism, this pinstripe prick is Scotland's Mr Politics, a McMuffin of reconstituted yesterday's Radio Four programmes rewritten in Tomorrow's Herald  with a bit of Andrews Neil and Gobsley thrown in - the suit, and the torrent of self-serving, ListenToMe drivel, of course.

  Ian McWhirter is run  by the  US GannetMedia  Filth-o-Corp  which, through a subsidiary, Newsquest,  owns the Glasgow and Sunday Heralds and much else of the UK's opinion-forming rubbish-sheets.

“Newsquest’s purchase of the Herald group was backed by assurances that they would maintain standards and not cut editorial budgets,” the NUJ quoted Cathy Peattie Scottish Labour Member of the Scottish Parliament for Falkirk East as saying. “The Competition Commission may have decided that too much time has passed for it to be able to do anything, but that doesn’t change the fact that Newsquest gave assurances via the commission to the people of Scotland, and those assurances now look worthless,” she added. She was not surprised staff had walked out.
“They have a long list of causes for dissatisfaction - redundancies, staffing shortages, poor working conditions and high stress levels. This is damaging the health of the workers and the health of the paper. Rather than discuss the problems, Newsquest has derecognised the NUJ,” Peattie continued.

It is as one of Newsquest's favoured  sons that McMuffin, once a Brown cheerleader,  dashes, made-up,  from studio to studio, applauding the cuts in the public sector. They've had it too easy, he laments, for too long, time they had some pain, rather like his former colleagues, betrayed  at Newsquest.  This ghastly  spiv  is on record as saying that politicians, like hacks such as he, are all in it only to help people, work terribly hard  and are all decent people.  They all play footba' together up here, the hacks versus the slags, give each other awards and after shitting in our faces presumably use the same bogroll. It is the Scottish media, representeed by Ian  McMuffin which has so ably covered-up the noncing-by-numbers  scandal of Holly Greig which would so embarrass so many  honest lawyers and jolly decent Scottish politicians. McWhirter would sooner expose himself than expose Scotland's mountainous graft and  her criminal-establishment  conspiracies and thus he is  the ubiquitous mouthpiece of the Unspeakable ones, his attack on the workers unremarkable, viewed alongside his determination to shield the noncing Sheriff.

Scotland, being the home of bullying,  hypocritical Brownian Presbyterianism,  is not short of   commentators like McWhirter, indeed, there is nothing in the Herald or the Scotsman, save the readers' letters, worth reading but McWhirter's eager presence across Scots media is an affront to all citizens, nationalist or unionist, his lying gob the truculent, white collar version of SeeYouJimmy? thuggishness, directed not at those who shit in our faces but at their target.

For McWhirter's information, aside from local Chief Execs and Directors of Services, it is a long time since public sector workers lived the same life of Reilly that he does, in exchange for sucking Power's cheesy knob, down on his pinstripe knees.  In all sectors these past few years people's workloads have doubled and tripled, vacant posts remain unfilled, staff expected to cover the work of colleagues absent or simply not replaced after departure,  terms and conditions incessantly cheesepared away until the lowliest, the least well-cushioned are expected virtually to work for nothing, to provide out of hours cover, for nothing, whilst Chief Execs and Directors, useless fucking bastards all of them,  primp and preen their millionaire way upwards, assisted by the likes of McWhirter.


Like so many of them,  McWhirter's dress gives him away, he sees himself not as a mere reporter but  as  some sort of powerbroker, some elegant AlphaMale, wise, smart and well-connected, his every utterance worth money. In a place as institutionally corrupt as New Scotland,  McWhirter, establishment whore, is worth his weight in gold, just as long as it is not from his master's purse but stolen from the people.

LEAKING PRESIDENT SHUT



Environmentalists in the US were today hopeful that the pollution leaking from the uncapped Barack Obama had finally been halted. Good ole boys have been listenin' to that shit fer ninety fuckin' days and we thought it wasn't never  gonna stop, we thought that cocksucker'd carry on spillin' shit out  until Kingdom fuckin' Come, said the Reverend Beauregard Coonbasher  the Third, pastor of the Louisianna branch of the Southern Church of Christ the Shrimphishin' Motherfucker, Inc.

Hallelujah and Yes We Can shut that motherfucker the fuck up, was the refrain all around the Gulf Coast as Merkin fishermen and their bitches rejoiced at the capping of Obama, Y'know, first Hurricane Katrina and now the disaster of Obama, sometimes folks round here think that God got it in fer us, but I blame the nigras, never shoulda freed them sonsafuckinbitches, look, we even got us a nigger in the White House, continued Reverend Coonbasher.  But now they done put a cap in his mouth, mebbe we can get back to some decent Merkin pastimes.

 
Southern States Americans at worship.

FIRST THING IS KILL ALL THE LAWYERS.

TORY LAWYERBASTARD NICKED

John Taylor,  given a consolatory peerage by Major, because he claimed his local, then Cheltenham,  Tories had no time for nig-nogs,  has done quite nicely from the House of Lords but his eleven grand fraudulent expenses claims have tried the charity of  even the CPS, normally to be found bent over backwards, evading the prosecution of the unGodly and Taylor is to face charges.  It will be, I guess, useless to claim, as he did in the Cheltenham by-election, that people had it in for him because of his race, can't see him down Marylebone Nick saying Is It Because I Is A Black Lord That You Is Nickin'Me? Even though it probably is.




John Taylor, Baron Taylor of Warwick

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Lord Taylor of Warwick
John David Beckett Taylor, Baron Taylor of Warwick (born Birmingham 21 September 1952) is a British politician and Conservative member of the House of Lords.
His father was a professional cricketer from the West Indies and his mother was a nurse. Taylor attended Moseley Grammar School in Birmingham where he was head boy, then Keele University where he studied English Literature and Law, followed by the Inns of Court School of Law in London.
  • 1976 - BA (Hons) Law Degree
  • 1978 - Gray's Inn Advocacy Award winner
  • 1978 - Called to the Bar, Barrister-at-Law
  • 1997 - Appointed by Lord Chancellor as Judge
  • 1999 - Honorary Doctorate in Law, LLD, Warwick University
  • 1986-90 - Solihull Borough Councillor
  • 1990-91 - Special Adviser to the Home Secretary and Ministers of State
  • 1997 - Introduced and carried through the Criminal Evidence Amendment Act 1997
  • 2007 - All Party Parliamentary Information Select Committee
He stood unsuccessfully for the Conservatives in the 1992 general election in Cheltenham, losing to the Liberal Democrats in a campaign influenced by the issue of race, with Taylor's West Indian background causing concern to some members of the local Conservative party.[1]
Concern was also expressed by the way the Liberal Democrats, who overturned a Conservative majority of over 5000 campaigned in the seat, stressing that their candidate (Nigel Jones) was 'local' and that the Conservative candidate was not. However, campaigning on the strength of a candidate being 'local' is normal in elections and does not depend on race.
Taylor was made a Life Peer as Baron Taylor of Warwick, of Warwick in the County of Warwickshire in 1996, as the first black Conservative peer. He was also Chancellor of Bournemouth University.
TV and Radio Presenter, Crime Stalker (Carlton TV), Talk About (BBC1), The John Taylor Programme (BBC Radio2), Powerhouse (Channel 4). In September 2007 Lord Taylor of Warwick was a guest presenter for Talksport while James Whale was on holiday.
  • Non-executive Director, Mottram Holdings plc
  • Consultant, Kleinwort Benson Bank
  • Chancellor, Bournemouth University
  • Chairman, Warwick Communications Ltd
  • Vice President, National Small Business Bureau
  • Vice President, British Board of Film Classification
He has lived in Ealing since 1995. There appear to be questions around the expenses he claimed from the House of Lords. [1]
Lord Taylor is divorced from Jean Katherine Binysh (a pediatrician), (married 1981); and has teenage children: Laura and Alexandra.

EVENSONG, HAIL, HAIL, ROCK'N' ROLL, RICHARD THOMPSON.

Thursday 15 July 2010

WHAT THE PAPERS SAY, THE GUARDIAN, JACK TORTURE.

Thursday, 15 July 2010


HEROES OF  NEWLABOUR 
RT. HON. JACK TORTURE MP




The torture files: Downing Street's role (SM21)

These documents show Downing Street's interventions to deny consular services to detainees held in Guantanamo Bay and elsewhere. A telegram despatched by the foreign secretary, Jack Straw, to the embassy in Washington, shows that the government supported the transfer of British detainees to Guantanamo Bay.

Covert words that paint a vivid picture of complicity in torture

• Foreign Office and No 10 interventions revealed
• Emails and memos began months after September 11
Omar Deghayes, a Libyan-born British resident.
Reports sent by an MI5 officer reveal a clear awareness of the mistreatment of Omar Deghayes, pictured. Photograph: Lucie Goodayle for the Guardian
Early January 2002. The Taliban regime in Kabul had been toppled, Nato forces were spreading out across Afghanistan, and the initial military response to the events of September 11 appeared to be running smoothly.
But in Whitehall – and particularly at the Foreign Office – there were the first signs of nervousness over the proposed manner of dealing with one problem that had arisen in the country: a small number of British citizens and residents, all Muslims, had been detained by US forces.
A mass of documents disclosed during high court proceedings show how rapidly the government became involved in the abduction and torture of these individuals in its attempts to secure the UK against attack by al-Qaida.
They also appear to show how little regard was given within the government to the illegality of its own actions.
On 4 January 2002, a memo circulated to the secretaries of the junior Foreign Office ministers Ben Bradshaw and Lady Amos, as well as to the Foreign Office press office and the department's senior legal adviser, Sir Michael Wood, notes: "Public opinion has on the whole shown little concern about the welfare of the British detainees, or the legal terms of their detention. But the issue is clearly of sensitivity to Muslim opinion in the UK and abroad."
It adds that the FCO should be "seen as applying our normal standards of consular assistance as far as possible". Consular officials had not seen these detainees, however, and "our holding line, that we are first seeking to establish identity details, is wearing thin", not least because extensive reports about one individual had already appeared in the press.
At this time, the fact that "rendition" – abducting an individual and moving them against their will from one country to another – was illegal appears not to have been a concern. A document disclosed by the Foreign Office, dated 10 January 2002 and entitled Afghanistan UK Detainees, expresses the government's "preferred options". It states: "Transfer of United Kingdom nationals held by US forces in Afghanistan to a United States base in Guantánamo is the best way to meet our counter-terrorism objectives, to ensure they are securely held." The "only alternative", the document adds, would be to place these individuals in the custody of British forces in Afghanistan, or to return them to the UK.
At around the same time Jack Straw, then foreign secretary, was sending a telegram to several British diplomatic missions around the world in which he signalled his agreement with this policy, but made clear that he did not wish to see the British nationals moved from Afghanistan before they could be interrogated.
"A specialist team is currently in Afghanistan seeking to interview any detainees with a UK connection to obtain information on their terrorist activities and connections," Straw wrote.
"We therefore hope that all those detainees they wish to interview will remain in Afghanistan and will not be among the first groups to be transferred to Guantánamo. A week's delay should suffice. UK nationals should be transferred as soon as possible thereafter."
In the event, the "interview" process in Afghanistan took considerably longer. The manner in which some were conducted is revealed within the reports that an MI5 officer sent to London after each of his encounters with Omar Deghayes, a Libyan-born British resident who was being held at the US air base at Bagram, north of Kabul, in June and July that year. Deghayes is one of the men currently suing the government.



















The MI5 interrogators were clearly aware of the manner in which Deghayes was being mistreated. Their only emotional reaction to his plight appears to have been disgust at his physical condition. Considering him to be insufficiently forthcoming, they decided to abandon him to further treatment at US hands.
Some of the disclosed documents are fragmentary and partially intelligible.
Much to the anger of lawyers representing those men suing the government, a number have been blacked out completely, leaving only a date.

A page of one document bears the MI5 letter head and logo, but has been so heavily redacted that only one word, "conclusion", remains visible. Among the papers is a handwritten note, headed "Warriors 14/1", that appears to relate to the state of a detainee in Afghanistan. It states: "Interview conditions: cold beaten up." According to one of the claimants' lawyers it dates from a period when MI5 officers were interviewing detainees in Kabul. The note appears to end with a list of options which includes "collusive deportation extradition".
There is a clear account of the fate of Martin Mubanga, another of the men suing the government, despite the large amounts of black ink that were used to conceal parts of the documents relating to his case before they were handed over.
A joint Zambian-British citizen, Mubanga travelled after 9/11 from Afghanistan to Zambia, where he was detained in March 2002 by Zambian officials accompanied by Americans. A number of messages between the British high commission in Lusaka and the Foreign Office in London show that Blair's office had decided that "under no circumstances should Mubanga be allowed to return to the UK". Should consular officials obtain access, however, there was a danger that the Zambians would hand Mubanga over to the British.
The exchanges become increasingly irate, with one official complaining about "the schizophrenic way in which policy on this whole case was handled in London": one half of the Foreign Office was insisting that Mubanga was entitled to consular assistance, and the other half was saying it should not take responsibility for him.










It had put the British high commission in Lusaka "in an impossible position", and there was a need for "co-ordinated thinking" to avoid such problems arising in future.
The documents show that there had been a proposal to put Mubanga on trial in the UK, but as a consequence of the British decision to wash their hands of him he was flown to Guantánamo, where he spent the next 33 months.
It was not the only time the prime minister's office intervened to thwart attempts by Foreign Office officials to obtain a degree of protection for British citizens, according to the documents.
Minutes prepared for the Home Office terrorism and protection unit after a meeting in April 2002 of officials including John Gieve, the Home Office permanent under-secretary, state that the American authorities had been informed that the British government might begin making public requests for legal access to British men held at Guantánamo. "FCO had wanted to do this (and wanted to be seen to be doing it) but had been overruled by No 10," the minutes say.



The same minutes show that while consideration was being given to the prosecution in the UK of some individuals in Afghanistan, David Blunkett, home secretary, warned there would be questions about the public interest in prosecuting "young and ill-informed individuals who may have been manipulated by others".


Missing from the documents so far disclosed is a copy of the secret policy that governed MI5 and MI6 officers interrogating detainees held overseas between mid-2004 and earlier this month, when it was revised on the orders of the coalition government.
The court had ordered that it be handed over by last Friday, but it failed to materialise. Instead, lawyers for the six men were given the chapter from MI6's manual that deals with detainee operations. This explains that MI6 officers are involved in detaining suspects or helping others do so; interviewing; and preparing reports based on details passed by overseas agencies.
When detaining suspects themselves, officers should consult superiors and consider where the detainee will be held and how they will be treated. There is another consideration. "Is it clear that detention, rather than killing, is the object of the operation?" the manual asks.
This document was handed over instead of one that is known to be extraordinarily sensitive. Ministers of the last government repeatedly insisted that the secret interrogation policy of recent years should never be made public.
The former foreign secretary David Miliband even indicated to a Commons select committee that to do so would "give succour" to the nation's enemies.

Redactions

The black ink that obscures parts of Security Service and Foreign Office papers has frustrated lawyers for the six claimants. Known as redactions, the boxes hide information deemed too sensitive to release on national security grounds. Sapna Malik, representing Binyam Mohamed, complains that they make it hard to reach a settlement and avoid protracted litigation. Any assessment is made "very difficult by the limited nature of the disclosure provided to date, the heavy redaction of the handful of potentially relevant documents … and the refusal of the [government] to provide meaningful answers to the claimants' requests for further information".
Nonetheless, despite so much being withheld, the release of security service reports of interviews with detainees in Guantánamo Bay and other overseas detention centres is almost unprecedented.

SOMETIMES SATAN COMES AS A MAN OF PEACE. ULSTER FUCKPIGS CONDEMN RIOTING.

ROBINSON, BAGGOT AND McGUINNESS, 
THE BREMNER, BIRD AND FORTUNE 
OF THE SIX COUNTIES.

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 Don't know, so I don't,  why these young men are out rioting 
when they could be doing something useful,
like gangbanging my dear wife, Iris,
so they could. 

Aye, Peter, right enough, so you are, is the old slapper off suicide watch, then....and by the way,  is this the new Chief Constable of my police service? 

thinks.....If I was a real copper I'd nick both of these cunts.


Thrown out by his Westminster electorate a few weeks back, cuckolded, guttersnipe buffoon, Pete Robinson, clings to his post as MLA and First Angry Orangeman of Northern Ireland; the decent thing, of course, would be for him to resign in shame and embarrassment but rather like his mainland mentors, Tony Blair and Peter Mandelstein, Gobby Pete's ethical spectrum ranges from Greed to Greed completely by-passing Honesty; the horrible fuckpig has made himself a millionaitre several times over out of the Ulster Jamboree and he's not going to give up his lucrative position voluntarily and, in any event, without his stern, sanctimoniou presence, the fucking wanker, the whole Peace Proh-cess'll collapse in a pile of shit, apres moi le deluge de merde, he might boast, if he could speak anything other than Gutter-Presbyterian.

Torturer, arsonist, extortionist, pimp, protection-racketeer, serial mass murderer and Pete's Deputy in the ghastly, wee  Ulster Parliament of Freed Terrorists, Marty Kneecaps McGuinness has devoted his life to peace and public  service, burying women alive, savagely crippling naughty teenagers and blowing innocent citizens to fucking pieces.  So he's very concerned about the current spate of rioting in Belfast, undemocratic he calls it,  flanked by the howling ghosts of thousands, men, women and children, slaughtered at his hand or at his command, despatched to their Maker, in flames and sharp metals, entombed in rubble, gutted and flayed,  blinded and maimed that this unspeakable monster might strut his wicked, patriotic shit down the corridors of Power. 

Usually so sensitive to the ire of taxpayers, unelected PM, CallHimDave and his bumslave, Nicky the Gimp,  have so far failed to comment on either Robinson's larceny or McGuinness's total unsuitability to be an elected representative, both, surely a shocking example of the public sector gone stark, raving mad. Gosh, if only they were poor and ill, such heroism would they incite from the public school frontbenchers; as it is, the thought of wee Marty probably makes them shit themselves.

This  Ulster stuff, this wilderness of betrayal, this dogshit justice, these pampered, protected chauffeured gangsters, this is what they call democracy in progress, the people who would, pious and futile,  nation-build among Afghanistan's scattered, doped-up, illiterate, tribal belligerents.

Wednesday 14 July 2010

FLASHMAN OVER AFGHANISTAN.

Remember chaps,dulce et decorum est pro obama mori
as we say in the better schools.

 Speaking as a military man, I can only echo what Mr Ishmael said rccently that the right way to conduct a war is to pay our enemies  vast sums of money to fight alongside us against themselves and shoot us when we're not looking, this is a brilliant, groundbreaking strategy. And this coalition will continue to press for it, it may be stupid, it may be unpopular. But it's what I came into politics for. 

It is only by building-up the Afghani forces with our taxpayers' money that we will be able to achieve this remarkable feat; the alternative is to spend the money on poor and sick people at home and that is simply not what I came into politics for. And if it doesn't work we can always blame the other side. Even though we supported them in getting into this shitstorm in the first place. It's what I and Mr Gimp came into politics to do.

And now a word from my batman, Lance corporal Clegg.

Rt Hon Mr Nicky Gimp, MP.

Thank you, Master. Well,  people may say that my party was opposed to the two old parties, both of which are younger than my party, and their wars against working class people all over the world but that was  before my master  offered me a job as HM Principal Gimp and so it doesn't matter. If Coalition policy results in our troops, to whom we all....blah blah blah....being shot in their beds by the people thay are supposed to be helping well that's a price well worth them paying so's I can continue playing the Gimp. It may be stupid, it may be unpopular and nobody voted for it but it's what I came into politics for. The Liberal Democrats are entirely opposed to the occupation of Afghanistan, apart from when it's necessary to usher in  the New Politics, in which you won't be able  get rid of me.  Vote Yes in the S & M referendum.

Sunday 11 July 2010

MORE OF THAT ALL IN THIS TOGETHER SHIT.

I was just discussing the crisis with the blogdog, Buster.  Seeing as how he's the oldest, sickest and most vulnerable person in Ishmaelia, it's only right and proper that he bear the brunt of our very necessary deficit reduction.

Heedless of the cost, Buster has grown accustomed to eating regularly and healthily, sometimes four sachets of Caesar Senior dogfood per day, sometimes six.

Lets be clear about this, he can no longer afford to eat like this
and so we decided to halve his food.

But on reflection we decided that we could cut further,
without it harming us.....

.....like this, it's not popular with Buster but we are all in this together.



Buster's drug bill has grown exponentially as he has aged 
and this simply cannot continue.

By all means let him have the occasional aspirin, washed down with free water
but all these heart medicines  and trips to the Vet are an extravagance we can no longer afford.



Flashy clothing, too, it simply has to go if we are to balance the books.



In the cold he'll just have to exercise, a swift run along the beach'll do it, 
followed by a healthy snack of grass.

His bedding allowance, too, funded, let us not forget, by other people,
is scandalously high and we simply cannot afford
for him to lie around in comfort all day.

There, cold, hungry, comfortless, neglected and frightened; 
the weak and vulnerable
appropriately punished for the crimes of the rich.



THE PRODUCERS WOULD LIKE TO POINT OUT THAT DURING THIS PHOTO SHOOT THEY HAVE NOT ACTUALLY HARMED ANY VULNERABLE OLD PEOPLE. WHICH IS MORE THAN CAN BE SAID FOR THAT CUNT NICKY GIMP AND HIS LOATHSOME, HYPOCRITICAL  SHIT-EATING PARTNERS IN CRIME, MAY GOD SEND A FIERY PLAGUE UP THEIR POXY ARSES.





ps, he's ok, really