Been a long time coming, this, ever since they tore up Clause Four, Labour has been heading to History's dustbin. Come now, I can hear people say, can't maintain that sort of nonsense in the modern day, people owning the means of production, distribution and exchange; well, if you can't or at least if you can't maintain the threat of it then we see what happens - GlobaCorp, the post-capitalist gangsterism which privatises profits and nationalises losses, which pays no tax, which pays penury wages and which, now, is able to sue us if we don't allow them to steal from us such endeavours as remain in collective ownership, the NHS; these are Blair's chickens come home to roost; Mandelstein's buffet of wealthy fairies, gone septic; Campbell's mendacious bullying, biting him in the arse and Brown's and Balllses bankers' prawn cocktails spewing-up, over their designer shirt fronts. The useless fuckwit - how dare anyone call him an itellectual - Miliband dutifully completed the rout of organised labour, much of it already sold-out by its union masters. I remember that prat, six-figure Dave Prentiss, selling-out his members in exchange for a handshake with Blair, the Warwick Agreement, thay called ir, and I'm fucked if I know how anyone could call Len McFuck a leftie, him crowning Miliband, when there were other, better candidates around.
This, today, is their victory, NewLabour's and the union bosses'. Fuck 'em, useless, scheming, traitorous bastards. This is Toilets Maguire's victory, a supposed socialist hack, sucking Murdoch's rank, ancient knob by night, waving a red flag by day in his shitawful newspaper. This is Polly Toynbee's victory, the Guardian's victory, it is the victory of many of those sophisticated metrosexual tossers, who thought they knew better the road to Jerusalem, even though their preferred destination was Rotherham-on-Sodom.
Look, I said it enough times,
apres moi, le deluge.
That'll be a hundred thousand pounds, please
and make the cheque out to Imelda, would you?
9 comments:
It has been an ugly day. Made so not so much because the Tory political machine has scrunched up a few more dumb buggers but that the innocents still don't seem to get it.
Weep if you can for the Dogshooters who are now back to the state they were in, I think, when I last voted for them. Pity too the poor McTribesmen soon to be all alone in London and prey to all sorts of distractions and temptations. The petty back-scratching corruption of Scotland is excellent training, and a five-year majority with which to test their purity and honour. They're terrible bastards the Tories but they are good at that shit. It is going to get even uglier.
You know me, I'm not punitive, not as a rule but i really enjoyed seeing the discomfort of the likes of Clegg and the feigned discomfort of Ed the Droid, I'm not partisan abouut this, I despise them all and I would have equally enjoyed seeing the spivs get their arses kicked, so, a day of small, serial blessings, for me - Cable and Alexander; Laws, especially; Balls; Straight Simon Hughes, Dipso Kennedy; Wee Dougie Alexander; Nigel PlaneCrash, I am delighted to see them kicked out and I don't care who got in because - thanks to Blair and NewLabour - there really, really is no difference between them, none at all.
I think you're right about Jock, in the big city, with the Ladymen, he'll soon forget Sauchiehall Street and join some parliamentary, cross-party trannies choir and dining club.
The uglier, really, it gets, the better; time to test that disgraceful fixed-term parliament shit to destruction.
One imagines that the invisible ones have set up a special division.
You are right, of course, it is good to see a useless bastard of any colour dragged screaming from the teat and cast out into the snow. Except that it will be not the snow but £500/hour in a quango or on a BBC sofa.
Cheers dude. Only having today as tribute as Cammo's such a tool but i'm only Tory coz I hate Labour. Relief rather than owt else - the work's still there, it's just fooking doogie alexander doesn't have to be minded to be anything he fucking minds to be anywhere near me.
I had to run out and buy cava, didn't plan any of this shit.
Am looking forward to the Nats' maiden speeches - like fucking Crimewatch!! Now now, 'tis everytime!
Beers, I mean Cheers, mr dick, wondered where you were. Maybe Dougie and sister, Wendy, now that they have both been dumped, could form a kind of a supergroup, and call it the Alexanders' Ragtime Band; both of them, incidentally, like the Ballses and the Milibands, Snotty's proteges. Take it easy.
Is Balls now an an albatross to Coopers election hopes? Is Ed Albatross Balls? The upsetting thing is, he was probably a better Chancellor than Osborne could ever hope to be. Rock an Roll. Winning forgives blind luck.
More to it, mr dick, than just being a good chancellor, however we judge that. I would rather that all those Iraqis hadn't been bombed, maimed, tortured, kidnapped and made refugee than that an imaginary pound went up or down on some gamblers' stock exchange. And I would rather that MPs didn't cook their expenses and flip their first and second homes, something for which I think the Ballses should have been jailed. Cooper, the Ice Pixie, is a thief and a crook, who gives a fuck what she does, she might make a better home secretary than Tracey May but that's not saying much, is it? Nick Toenails insists she will be the next Labour leader and that hubby will help her do so. Since we pay Nick a quarter of a million pounds a year we should presume that he knows something we don't know, but I dunno how he knows this one.
There were two more of them at it on Newsnight not half an hour ago. That new idiot was calling them by their first names - all in this togethering - and a more vacuous pair of dicks I have never heard spout together. "I agree with John." "I agree with Jane."
Apparently it is the fault of the electorate, especially the electorate in England, and especially the electorate in England in the South, that the luvvies are not in charge of the trainset. It had not occurred to them that their project is themselves. They are become the problem. Illiberal and dogmatic. Ignorant and bloated. Fairtrade braggarts and fools. A windmill on every hill, and for just two pounds a month you can buy a half for a maimed squaddie. You'll get a Parker pen so that you can pry the eyes out of your head and use them to block up your ears.
It's time to be done with them. The Labour MP you see with an iWatch must be hanged in Parliament Square.
Yes, I saw them, mr mongoose, three farts in a colander, four, if you count Allegra. Made me reach for the malt. And the morphine. Didn't think it could get any worse than Miliband. Boy, have I got a lot to learn.
That Evan Davies, in his rentboy suit, he's a caricature, right, the new editor of Newsnight, he's having a laugh, surely.
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