As the holiday season is now firmly established - we had two liners into Kirkwall on one day last week, with a capacity of 5000 passengers and god knows how many crew heading for the charity shops with empty suitcases to stock up on smelly old vintage clothes to take home for resale, it is timely to consider a moral dilemma.
Imagine you have in your possession the key to your next door neighbour's house, obtained entirely legitimately - say you were entrusted with it so you could go in to water their house plants whilst they were away on a cruise to the Caribbean. Or they were expecting a delivery whilst visiting their parents/delinquent drug-dealing son/attending a JustStopOil protest in Manchester. Would you take the opportunity of having a good old nose round their house in their absence?
Assuming you did decide to have a look around, would you have a root through the drawers? Top Tip- the best thing to do is to take a photo of the drawer's contents first, then you can return them to the correct configuration, having had a good look, tried on the strap-on and smoked the weed (just a little). Would you then take a look in the loft, just to see if they had stashed up there the tree loppers they borrowed five years ago? If you do, for god's sake don't tread between the joists and do take a mobile phone with you to summon help.
But what if you discovered a corpse wrapped in a rug? Do you report it to the police? Can they act upon evidence obtained illegally? Not in the USofA, which has the preposterous fruit of the poisonous tree doctrine, which prevents evidence obtained in violation of the Fourth Amendment from being admitted in a criminal trial. In England, au contraire, the get stuck in there, son, doctrine obtains. English courts have relied on an 1861 verdict, R v Leathem, to admit evidence irrespective of the legality of the source: the doctrine having been established in the case of R.v. Leathem* (1861) 8 Cox CC 498, in the following words: "It matters not how you get it; if you steal it even, it would be admissible in evidence."
So, you determine to go down the cop shop and tell them all about it. But wait! Burglary, also called breaking and entering (B&E)] is the act of illegally entering a building or other areas without permission, typically with the intention of committing a further criminal offence. And you've committed the offence of smoking the neighbour's weed (although undesirable, it is possibly not an offence to try out the neighbour's strap-on). But I had a key, you may cry - sorry, but no. In common law, Breaking does not require that anything be "broken" in terms of physical damage occurring. A person who has permission to enter part of a house, but not another part, commits a breaking and entering when they use any means to enter a room where they are not permitted, so long as the room was not open to enter. And you only had permission to water the house plants.
Given the fact that Britain's prisons are full, you'll probably get away with a non-custodial. Whereas your neighbour will receive the commiserations of the Court for the invasion of their privacy and a donation from the Poor Box.
So, when approached by a neighbour bearing a house key, back away in horror, hands raised in repudiation, stating loudly and clearly: "Fuck Off! Get away from me, you honey-trap, with your weed and your strap-ons and your corpses in the attic. Your house-plants may wither and die before I even go so far as to look in your sitting room window in passing."
* A tip on legal pronunciation. The v. is not pronounced v. or versus. This is the English law, not a football fixture. It is pronounced and. As in Donaghue and Stevenson (Donoghue v Stevenson [1932] AC 562), the snail in the ginger beer bottle case, the case that established your right not to be poisoned by the product manufacturer.
The other day, a straight, white, middle aged, middle class acquaintance mused:
"You used to be a probation officer, mrs ishmael. Did being exposed to the underside of human nature affect you?"
"What are you really saying here? Did it rub off on me? Criminality? Is it catching?"
My favourite statistic to confound those who like to believe that criminal behaviour is some sort of rare, low life trait is that 1 in 3 men born in 1953 have a criminal conviction. I don't know if it was a particularly juicy year. The Ministry of Justice Statistics Bulletin for England and Wales, published 15th July 2010, gives the conviction histories of offenders between the ages of 10 and 52 of those born in 1953:
33 per cent of males born in 1953 had been convicted of at least one standard list offence before the age of 53. Just over half of these had been convicted on only one occasion and 18 per cent had been convicted more than 5 times.
9 per cent of females born in 1953 had been convicted of at least one standard list offence before the age of 53. Three-quarters of these had been convicted on only one occasion and 5 per cent had been convicted more than 5 times.
I daresay Scotland is worse.
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We are now in the run up to the General Election. This means that the leaders of Britain's political parties are vying to woo us with their charm, charisma, intelligence, probity and sheer suitability for high office. For our overseas readers and those who haven't paid much attention (and who can blame you?), here is Sir Edward Jonathon Davey, Liberal Democrat, first class Honours in Philosophy, Politics and Economics from Jesus College Oxford and former Minister for Postal Affairs at the time of the Horizon Post Office scandal that resulted in the wrongful prosecution of hundreds of sub-postmasters. He did say sorry and blamed Post Office officials for misleading him. So that's alright, then.
I think we should have a Dimblebore back for the Election coverage. We didn't get one for the Royalthing - you know, the Coronation of King SausageFingers, as I complained at the time:
Hello, Huw Welshman yere.
No, go away and bring me a Dimbleby.
It is very much a matter of National Regret, look you, that the BBC has run out of Dimbelbys.
What, no more Dimblebores? What about that one who fooled us all into believing spaghetti grows on trees? And whispered through the Coronation of the QE2? And reverentially laid to rest George VI, J.F.Kennedy and Winston Chuchill?
Quite dead, mrs ishmael, ma'am, a nation mourns his loss.
Or that one that got Brian to spill about Wife Diana and Mistress Camilla?
That Dimbleby is getting on a bit, 79 in July, even older than the Anointed One, and has been Outspoken - 'e said Brian was disgusted and horrified, look you, by everyone swearing allegiance through their tellies, like.
Okay, then, Welshman, get the Dimbleby that planted Diana, you know, when they made little Harry, 12 years old, walk behind his mother's coffin in public and fucked his little ginger head right up? And Queen GinandTonnix, and Maggie, Maggie, Maggie,out,out,out, and the QE2?
With grave respect, mrs ishmael, ma'am, that Dimbleby did, indeed, specialise in funerals, but he's ancient now, look you, 84 if he's a day. I can do it, I can.
Fuck off and die; it is I, Huw Welshman, and this is my gig. "Few broadcasters have the privilege of working on a coronation and I’m delighted to be involved. People will be relying on the BBC for coverage of what promises to be a memorable weekend."
And, now we can't even have Huw Welshman back for the big night, as he has been suspended and subsequently resigned from the Beeb because of the dirty pictures scandal-that-never-was, because the 17 year-old Not-Victim's mum and stepdad objected to the 63 year old Christian and regular church goer, Welshman, paying the lad for photos of his privy member. Honestly, these Christians.
Looks like we're getting Clive Myrie, Chris Evans and Controversial Laura Kuenssberg instead. Time for mr ishmael:
Looks like we're getting Clive Myrie, Chris Evans and Controversial Laura Kuenssberg instead. Time for mr ishmael:
OBNOXIOUS BULLY EJECTED FROM THE PBC'S POLITICAL COMEDY SHOW
This is the news that ghastly old man and hereditary broadcaster, Dave Dimbleby
is finally to be ejected from his tax-payer funded life of luxury. I mean, said one viewer, the mad old bastard's eighty and yet they kept him up all night recently, banging away about the election, eighty fucking years old three question marks. Up all night, exclamation mark. Is this what it's come to, question mark, string of exclamation marks. Is this really, bold capital letters, what it's come to six question marks, demanded Mr Giles Prat from Hertfordshire. It's no wonder the young people - the Inkies, the Trannies, the TinFaces and the Uglies - are up in arms, or would be if they could be arsed. Is there really, in all of showbusiness, no-one other than this decrepit old louse, who's capable of co-ordinating an all night comedy show, six question marks. Nobody at all, another six question marks. I think it's downright cruel, apart from anything else. I'm not saying I'm ageist or anything, but it's just common sense. That Laura Wotsername, she obviously takes drugs, to keep her going, it's obvious, isn't it, sat there jabbing at her iThing and going Eeek! Eeek! Eeek! like that noise in the shower scene in Psycho...... I'm hearing this bit of gossip, yes, I'm really hearing this bit of gossip, that's what my sauces are saying Eeek! Eeek! Eeek! Did I say sauces? I meant sources. I'm Scottish and I can't speak properly. Eeek! Eeek! Eeek! Eeek! Eeek! Eeek! I mean, it's a shit way of doing things, a mad bint peddling anonymous bits of gossip from some vile, scheming, cowardly cunt of a cabinet minister and calling herself a reporter.
And we pay this manic little harpy a quarter of a million pounds a year.
You may as well read the fucking tea-leaves.
We probably buy the shoes and clothes, as well.
I saw Pilger, the other night, on Russia Today. I can very quickly have too much of him being so hard-core up his own arse but even so, he's a proper journalist and he was saying that where there used to be reporters, investigating, now it's mainly blowhard commentators, and he's absolutely correct.
I can't wait to see what Tracey Ullman makes of Laura Eeeksberg, on the Tracey Ullman show. It's a bit grim, isn't it, that the only proper criticism directed at Queen Gnasher comes from a pop-singer turned comedian. I think Tracey Ullman should do the PBC Election Night Show.
...................................................
Who'd have thought it - since mr ishmael wrote the Obnoxious Bully short essay, not only have Huw Welshman's inner demons been exposed - to his subsequent disgrace, Kuenssberg has become a broadcaster of repute, Sturgeon has resigned and been disgraced, her hubby charged with the embezzlement of over £600,000 of the supposedly ring-fenced referendum cash, and Russia Today has been blocked from broadcasting to Britain, to prevent the Great British people being exposed to alternative interpretations of the Ukrainian war. And even the Jordan river has bodies floating. Oh yes, and we're on the Eve of Destruction.
If you would like to read some original ishmael or stanislav, then the four-volume Call Me Ishmael oeuvre, collected and curated by editor mr verge, is available on Lulu and Amazon.
Honest Not Invent, Vent Stack, Ishmael’s Blues, and the latest, Flush Test (with a nice picture of the late, much lamented, Mr Harris of Lanarkshire taking a piss on a totem pole) are available from Lulu and Amazon. If you buy from Amazon, it would be nice if you could give a review on their website.IIshmaelites wishing to buy a copy from lulu should follow these steps
please register an account first, at lulu.com. This is advisable because otherwise paypal seems to think it's ok to charge in dollars, and they then apply their own conversion rate, which might put the price up slightly for a UK buyer. Once the new account is set up, follow one of the links below (to either paperback or hardback) or type "Ishmael’s Blues" into the Lulu Bookstore search box. Click on the “show explicit content” tab, give the age verification box a date of birth such as 1 January 1960, and proceed.
Link for Hardcover : https://tinyurl.com/je7nddfr
Link for Paperback : https://tinyurl.com/3jurrzux
https://www.lulu.com/shop/ishmael-smith/flush-test/paperback/product-9yjvn7.html?q=Flush+Test&page=1&pageSize=4
With the 15% voucher, PB (including delivery to a UK address) should be £16.84; HB £27.04.
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| I'm not standing, no, no no. |
16 comments:
I think we'd best draw a sterilized veil over the strap-on business, but is the corpse-in-the-rug-in-the-attic thing derived from a Probation Days event?
v./
Allegedly, apparently, so I’ve heard, honest not invent. The tories are 200, yes two hundred candidates short for the upcoming game of musical chairs. So sir Ed arfamillionquid Davey may well end up in one of the big boys seats, at the top table.
An they’ve, the tories, only got seven days to find ‘em, to be registered with the electoral commission.
I’ve also read that ‘I do not consent’ written on the ballot form has to be counted, for legal purposes and read out at the final count, in each constituency. I shall look into this.
A picture of a Cock n Balls or fuck off you’re all cunts, is classed as a spoiled ballot so can be thrown in the bin, same as ‘none of the above’
Funny you should ask me that, mr verge - but, yes, indeed. Long ago and far away, a 16 year old boy failed to come home one night. We'll call him Darren. The distraught mother organised family and friends and vigilante groups searched the housing estate (called scheme in Scotland, hence Schemies as a term of abuse for ne'er do wells who live on housing schemes). Days went by, and one young man, we'll call him Jaysun, when he reported in to me for his Probation appointment, told me he'd been out until the early hours, joining in the search, going through sheds and nearby woodland. I knew the family well, because I'd previously had his dad on Probation - I'd once actually saved his life, by whisking him into A&E when he'd taken a vast quantity of paracetomol whist depressed, his wife having left him on account of his alcoholism. When I'd phoned to check on him and give him an appointment, he'd said I'm glad you rang because I've changed my mind about killing myself. I loaded him into the car and drove him to A&E, where they sorted him out. His wife got back with him after a sentence of imprisonment got him off the booze and the three of them lived together in a neat little house on this vast council estate. So I was in the habit, when Jaysun reported in, of asking, and how's your dad? Jaysun said he was ok, still off the booze, but mum was away, visiting her sick sister. She was due back on Saturday, when she'd sort them all out. I took that to mean that they'd got behind with the washing up and vacuuming, and thought nothing of it.
When I got in to work on the Monday, I learned that mum had indeed sorted them out - called in the police to deal with the body in the attic. You see, Jaysun and his dad, taking advantage of mum's absence to use the living room for an impromptu heroin party with Darren, had been appalled when young Darren had died of a heroin overdose. Instead of calling an ambulance, they rolled him up in the living room rug and stuffed the body into the attic, for mum to sort out when she came home. God knows what they'd thought she might do - maybe get them digging the foundations for a new patio, to dispose of Darren?
The thing that really got to me was that Jaysun went out with the search parties when he knew full well that Darren was up in the attic.
Schemies, eh? What are you gonna do?
I just had te misfortune to see the "highlights" of today's debate between Dumb and Dumber. After a couple of minutes I was filled with a feeling I've never had at a General Election before. "Please just let it stop!"
And the Fridge man showed up in some ten second tik-tok blather I didn't understand but has something to do with milkshakes.
I am off to hide under the bed for five weeks with me fingers in me lugs.
Mr mongoose: thank the Lord you are not American and have to endure the upcoming shitshow there, which makes a Sunak/Starmer thingy look like a tea party.
The yanks, mr mike, and hello btw, are burning down their republic. Shame on them. It seems to have occurred to a few of them that this latest Trump trial-without-a-crime-that-I-need-to-actually-identify is a step too far. But the loons are so far off the edge now that now they just have to continue. Or they'll hang alone.
Will Trump win? Of course not. They'll steal it again. What will happen?
It is the problem with penants and sentiment. Eventually one is the next in turn to lie and cheat. I have voted in my time for everyone - except the LibDems! I hope that if it came to the choice one day to either betray my country or my friend or my political allegiance, I would have the courage to tell the truth and do the right thing. I feel that I am part of a waning cohort.
I turned on the telly for the Leaders' debate, fully intending to watch it - but, like you, mr mongoose, I just couldn't. Sunak went at Starmer like a nasty little attack dog, shouting, talking over him, making up spurious costs of Labour's promisings - which have been revealed to be a load of madeupliesandfilth by Tory apparatchiks, not the civil service, nothing to do with the Office for Budget Responsibility. Sunak claims Labour will cost taxpayers an extra £2grand - whereas the Spectator has worked out that Tory promising will cost an extra £3grand. And Farage has weighed in - presumably abandoning Trump. I was quite disgusted that a youngish woman thought it perfectly acceptable to throw her banana milkshake over him - I suppose that is mild from a generation that thinks it honourable to throw tomato soup on Van Gogh and cut up a portrait of Lord Balfour.
Democracy and legal process have been abandoned and we are left with the barbarians with their wokery and intolerance of any opinion not their own. They would laugh themselves sick at the concept that I might not agree with what you say but I would defend to the death your right to say it.
And a mere 80 years since we fought and won a war that ended Nazi anti-semitism and their extreme genocidal cruelty, ruthlessness and efficiency, anti-semitic marches are now tolerated, nay, enabled, in the cities of Britain.
It is easy to despair.
Welcome back, mr mike - you've been missed. Its a shame that of all the Allied leaders invited to the Battle of Britain celebrations, no invitation was extended to Putin and broadcasters were chortling about it. For shame. What a missed opportunity to extend a hand of friendship and to mingle our tears at the Allied dead.
Mrs I: I've been away in Spain for the last 5 weeks. But keeping an eye on events.
Its a great shame the Europeans failed to take the opportunity to reach out to Russia; in fact, the opposite was the case; it was a petulant and ignoble snub. We all know the sacrifice the Soviets made in WW2, without which the Normandy landing would not (could not) have happened.
Sooner or later (it will be the latter) Europe will realise that it is Russia that is its friend, not the US. The longer it takes for this lesson to be learned, the greater the damage.
"Its a great shame the Europeans failed to take the opportunity to reach out to Russia; in fact, the opposite was the case; it was a petulant and ignoble snub."
Our woke politicians demand that all such occasions are subservient to the the issue-du-jour Mr Mike. Thus the parasites Zelensky and Zelenska were present, representing who and why? Ukraine did not particate in D-Day, and he an unelected nobody. As to my own country, why would we suffer an imbecile that invited a nazi into parliament (and give him two standing ovations) to represent us?
Our veterans deserve better, and it is too bad they pander to these nobodies. Silly-Billy Windsor and the awful King Charles with racks of participation medals bestowed by mummy on their chest I have more respect for scouts with their merit badges sewn on their sweaters arms.
In Spain, mr mike? Another Camino? Or just tootling around, sight-seeing?
I feel quite sick at the demonization of Russia by the West, after their massive, population-destroying fight against Nazi Germany, which allowed its Western Allies to win the Second World War. And the shameful Western spinning of the Russian invasion to continue the fight against Nazism in Ukraine and protect Russians in eastern Ukraine who were being given a hell of a hard time by the terrifying Azov Brigade; as some vanity project of Putin.
As for the Puppet Parasite Dwarf Zelensky, mr cascadian, never forget that he was a comedian and an actor - right place, right time. He was quite a good comedian - that sequence of him playing the piano with his penis, trousers round his ankles, has me chuckling every time I see it. And his whole life at present is a masterly piece of acting and self-presentation - the decision to always appear in a version of military uniform is a great piece of PR, projecting the image of a no-nonsense, practical warrior, brave and beleaguered by the forces of Mordor. Obscures the truth of his happily throwing his citizens into a ruthless fighting machine and swallowing western military resources to fight the American proxy war against Russia. The sensible ones all headed out of Ukraine as soon as they got a whiff of his intentions, preferring to become refugees ahead of the game. Ben Wallace, Secretary of State for Defence, had a great put-down, when Zelensky presented his list of demands for expensive, state of the art weaponry - "I am not Amazon, Mr. Zelensky."
Yes Mrs I: another Camino, in fact I combined 2 lesser known ones: the Camino de Madrid and the Camino Invierno. Both are infrequently walked, but very remote and in the case of the Invierno very beautiful. On the Madrid, I saw only 5 other walkers in 10 days.
It was quite cold. 8 degrees walking out of Madrid. On day 3 on a steep and difficult climb to Segovia it fell below freezing. At one point on the climb I heard a slight noise - I imagined the pitter-patter of tiny mice. It was in fact snow, something I hadn't seen for 30 years!. How quaint. As the climb got steeper the snow fell harder. I had no gloves or jumper, but I put on all the clothes I was carrying. Soon the path, which was loose scree, was covered and it became quite slippy and dangerous. I was unsure it was in fact a path. My hands were so numb I couldn't unzip my fly to pee. I stated to get a little worried as I hadn't seen anyone all day and being lost on this mountain was a real possibility.
I took out my phone to get a fix on google maps, but my fingers were numb and the home button was frozen. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I reached the crest and started down. Once in the pine forrest I found the track and about 10kms later made the beautiful town of Segovia. A memorable day.
Mr cascadian: the symbology of Zelensky at D-Day could not be worse. He represents a fanatical neo-nazi government; look up Stepan Bandera and the atrocities his followers committed in WW2 on jews, Poles and Russians; hundreds of thousands; and today they celebrate him in Ukraine. Western leaders have lost their minds.
My sincere congratulations on your Camino Mr Mike it sounds more like a survival course than a pilgrimage.
Deserves a rousing rendition of verse one.
Who would true valour see,
Let him come hither;
One here will constant be,
Come wind, come weather
There's no discouragement
Shall make him once relent
His first avowed intent
To be a pilgrim.
Zelensky's presence at the event was abominable, but such is the woke leadership we struggle with today who do not understand Europe's history. A country has been utterly destroyed, and will never recover, all to cover up f*ck Joe Biden's family grift. It is my sincere hope that Zelensky and Zelenska are given the Ceaucescu treatment and quickly too.
On this occasion Mrs Ishmael I will disagree with your characterisation of Zelensky's attire, it may fool the likes of Nancy Pelosi and Kamala Harris those great sages, but olive green tee shirts, and tactical pants (trousers) speaks more of a slovenly coke-head. One description I thought apt was he looks like a Kiev strip-club doorman.
That is excellent, mr cascadian - I've never been to Kiev, and have no intention of so doing, and I don't even like Chicken Kiev, but I feel quite sure in my bones that Zelensky is rocking the strip club doorman vibe. Especially with the brutalist hair-do.
In May and June 2023, we ran with Mr Mike's Camino diary, illustrated with his own photographs. For those who missed it at the time, just enter "Mr Mike on Pilgrimage" in the search bar. There are other entries in May. It is worth having a look, for the tale of an epic walk. If you want to send me your 2024 Camino diary and pics, mr mike, I'll be happy to run it. Your climb to Segovia sounds brutal. Well done!
Thinking about our correspondents missing in action, we haven't heard from mr ultrapox in a while - are you ok, mr u?
Well done, mr mike. Glad to hear that you are safe home.
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