Saturday, 15 August 2015


If Prince Gormless is really concerned about his kids' privacy his remedy is simple;


he can renounce his claim to the Ruritanian thrones and fortunes, distance himself from the family of rotten, inbred spongers which so cruelly used his late mother 

royal ponce with child-bride

and reside not in a string of stolen palaces but in RAF married quarters. 

If, like everyone else,   the Gormlesses struggle to make ends meet, then his Mrs, Dumb Kate,  can go back and work in the family waitressing business. 
As long as they have no more than the present two children, the govament - that is to say, we -  will help them out a bit. Although nowhere near as much as we do at present. 

There would be the further advantage to the country of one of its pilots doing a full year's work, uninterrupted by long skiing holidays and extravagant foreign junkets;  preparing himself, they call it.

 No, the real pilot sits in the back. OK Yah?

call me cynical but I see Knobheads's military career as nothing more than an extended, tightly-managed  photo opportunity 

Bless, a loving hisband.

and I recall the military record of his vile father, 
Gormless senior, 

 in which Brian was awarded admiralcies and colonelcies and marshalsies everytime he grounded a ship or crashed an aircraft, the useless, gibbering, cock-waving buffoon.

They really are cheeky fucking bastards, these incestuous, horse-faced,  German  parasites, bringing  all their cousins here and breeding like rabbits in order to be benefit scroungers;

 happy to be the most photographed  celebrity filth on the planet, they nevertheless now request and require the peasants only to take photographs when they are ordered-to by some screeching fag equerry; 

if this impudent cunt has his way people will be expected to avert their eyes as he passes by, in all his stuttering majesty. 

For people who couldn't spell mediaevalism, 

Yes, we are the R in RAF.
Soon get you a chestful of medals, son
You are my son, aren't you?
Hard to tell in this family.

they sure know how to act it out. 


Gormless thinks it's OK for his poisonous old granny to have her ugly mug on the currency but not OK for some snapper to try to earn himself a crust out of the same, filthy racket.

Billy Gormlesses ire was reported all over the PBC, yesterday, as though it was the Second Coming, vermin crawling from everywhere, one even suggesting that photographers be shot, on security grounds. 

 Uncle Eddie Mair, on the PM show, Radio Four's answer to Terry fucking Wogan, made the commotion last for nearly the whole programme and Nicholas Knobcheese, 

the royal correspondent, 
even though he is despised by the Windsor men, 

nearly ate his own arse,
 ingratiating and fawning, indignant, on behalf of royal scum, 
about his own trade.

It is not as though the notion of a Silly Season still held water and thus excused this arseholery - there is plenty of real news, but the Corporation serves us up this dross -
pampered git stamps his foot.
Hold the front pages. 

If this grinning prick was half a son, 
half a father, he'd fuck off out of it, as suggested above and support his own children -  y'know, doing the right thing;  instead, poncing off everyone else, he tries to browbeat us into thinking that he controls the brand which we pay for. 

Fuck off, baldy, you don't own us, we own you, you are public property - as you might find out; Mr Corbyn, I expect, alone among the squirming, snivelling shitheads,  is a republican.

Unlike Uriah Burnham, 

I just wannabeclear about this, as the leader of the Labour party the very first thing I'll do is get down on my knees before the monarchy and lick their shiny boots;  the people would expect no less from me.

I bet all the made-up money in the world that Andy Bubbles signs all his letters to his constituents just like this, that's just the kinda guy he is. 

A prince, a doxy and a prime minister.

Now look,  lessbeclear about this, at least Prince Saxe-Coburg- Wossisname, at least he's not an immigrant from Europe, coming here to abuse the system, having children and expecting everybody else to keep them in the lap of luxury. 
At least he's not one of those, not a poor person.
God save his Majesty. 
And all his heirs and succesor benefits spongers.
World without end. 



Something has gone awry, 
one of the gilded ones has been hauled into court before he dies.
Lord Tebbit will be gnashing his serpent fangs at the unfairness of it all.

As I was saying to mr mongoose, the other night, I thought I had read, seen and thought enough about what we call the Holocaust - the breathtaking, heart-stopping atrocities committed by martial Nazi Germany, crimes so vast that I believe the whole German nation was implicated and should therefore have been dismantled, the culture and property of its people forfeited - but there is always more to learn.

The Annihilation series, re-broadcast on the Yesterday channel overturns the implied Justice Has Been Served confection of  The World At War - that Justice, in the end, prevailed, the Nazi monster punished; 
nothing could be further from the truth.

Episode seven  of Annihilation,  features a then  elderly but feisty New York Jewish lawyer,

 filmed, I guess, in the 'seventies, who, in 1945, had been drafted-in to prosecute some of the Nazi mass murderers, including a commandant of one of the infamous Einsatzgruppen, the killer squads who murdered Jews and partisans as Eastern Europe and Russia were invaded; 

even by German standards,
 these were bad bastards.

The defence lawyer for this particular officer approached the New York lawyer, suggesting that because his client had  Parkinson's Disease he should  not  be prosecuted. 
Is he breathing? asked the prosecutor. 
Yes, of course he's breathing. 
Then I'm gonna indict the sonofabitch.

Defence counsel came back a bit later, pleading that his client's hands were shaking uncontrollaby. 

If I had murdered thirty thousand men, women and children, my fucking hands'd be shaking, too;
 he's going on trial. 
The accused died during the trial and was thus untried, unconvicted and unsentenced, although the evidence was overwhelming.

I was reminded of these events, today, as Janner blinked in the daylight. Demented or not, a means must be found to try him and since any disposal is unlikely to be custodial perhaps a verdict could be reached on a balancing of probabilities. 
He's breathing, isn't he?

One cannot help but suspect that Janner's complaint is a Sanders Gambit, an illness which will heal itself once the patient is released early from jail or the charges dropped. 

Let's face it, anyone with  Oily Vaz in  his corner  -

Keith Vaz helped kill a 90s probe into the Greville Janner claims: why is he silent now? 

(The Observer)

"......Vaz, who said that his close colleague (Janner)  had been “the victim of a cowardly and wicked attack”."

- defies any charge of personal probity.

The gist of that Annihilation episode was that there are always political and financial obstacles to the delivery of justice.  The New Yorker ranted that although he indicted countless German industrialists for profiteering from slave labour and murder, for the manufacture of Zyclon B, of incinerators, of all the paraphernalia of the final solution - Krupps and IG Farben, for instance -  he failed to secure one conviction, a new political landscape, a nascent GlobaCorp and doubtless an ocean of bribery defeated the evidence of countless victims, of documents, film and incontrovertible testimony. Eventually, survivors of this slavery were awarded derisory compensation

Filth like Vaz will, unchecked, make Jews and Gipsies of  our own then-children,  those violated, tortured and abused by his mate, Janner and others; 
the foul, oily bastard and his fellow-travellers must not succeed.
Law be damned, what we need is justice.


Twisted Root said...

I recall Janner's fellow parliamentary filthsters applauding him when the unfounded and scurrilous accusations against him were made to disappear back in the nineties. Heart warming it was to see them rejoice at the honourable member's reputation un-besmirched . After all where would it all end if one domino toppled? A firewall, that's all Janner is, to squirm and be defended to the last drop of blood for fear of a full exposure event.

call me ishmael said...

Sometimes, it is all so clear, so rotten; to see Vaz blustering and lying about this and so much else one wonders what must it take in order for us to start pulling-up paving slabs.

It is the thing which makes me reserved about Corbyn, he must have known about all this criminality, mr twisted root, these past thirty years and yet he has said nothing about the single most important fact of our lives - that our lawmakers are vile criminals, either by commission or omission, none can fail to know about all this, yet none speaks out; they need beating and jailing.

SG said...

Well Mr I, you may make a Republican of me yet but at present I remain agnostic about the Monarchy - perhaps for fear of something worse. One of those 'well you wouldn't start from here' things. However, I also loath "The Firm's" penchant for awarding itself medals and honours and positions that are clearly unearned. Really not much different to the likes of Dr Field Marshal Idi Amin Dada VC, who conquered the British Empire. If Harry Wales genuinely loosed off a few rounds at the Fuzzies, then fair enough, give him a campaign medal like everyone else and he can wear it with pride as far as I'm concerned. What's wrong with wearing the uniform and rank insignia that you've actually earned? They could do worse than take a leaf out of 'Der Fuhrer's' book in this respect. However, it is also interesting that some of the most egalitarian states on the plant are also Monarchies (Denmark, Norway, Sweden) - which suggests that it's not necessarily the model that's the problem but perhaps the people and culture.

Regarding Janner, there is a glimmer of hope here but I'm not holding my breath...

Bungalow Bill said...

The disgrace is indeed that Janner was not arraigned when he should have been and when he was unquestionably coherent. As Mr Twisted Root observes, there is no serious chance here of a proper verdict because that would be a disaster for the Paedomeisters. What we are currently observing is a managed pantomime designed to make the complainants appear vindictive. And yet, even that is bette than nothing.

mongoose said...

I am afraid that I can summon no more sophisticated an opinion than that Keith Vaz is a monster of the highest order and would, in any decent country, have been hanged by now. For smugness if nothing else could be turned up.

Janner does look to be gaga - and who can doubt it now that they have allowed him to be dragged into Court. As effectively silent now as any dead man would be.

tdg said...

The hereditary transfer of things is rational and reasonable, of powers, animal and extortive. It is surprising that the most intellectually sophisticated nation on earth should maintain a system of national representation founded on tribal superstition. I have never found a satisfactory explanation for it.

Doug Shoulders said...

It was a reasonably successful system 1200 years ago when the Olaf the Knut and such folk got themselves put in charge of things. If you could chop up enemies and rally others to do them same, the job was yours. A fiery beard sometimes helped I suppose.
If Captain gormless was ever on the field of battle he'd be lucky if he could muster from his troops much more than a snigger.
If only the Germans would take them back.

Woman on a Raft said...

I would not normally bother you with anything in The Express, but this picture of Camilla is a peach.

call me ishmael said...

Crashed my computer, thanks, mrs woar, the Express page. I wonder what kind of dowager Camilla will be, should His Grace, Brian, be called home to the Heaven of all faiths, there to query the architecture and bake Heavenly HobNobs.

call me ishmael said...

If explanantion be required, mr tdg, tghen bread acircuses should do it for you as does for me my oft-repeated axion (that) there is no business like showbusiness.

call me ishmael said...

I wonder how Shakespeare - or the Earl of Oxford - mr doug shoulders, would dramatise the life and times of Will Gormless, a doltish lad, whipped and scourged into line by Villainy.