Friday 11 December 2020

Obituary: A Nation Mourns

 


83-year-old Barbara Tits is dead. Sombre music, black gloves, black borders to the pages. The nation's favourite porn star/pub landlady/consort of gangsters has left the building. Get your priorities right, Britain. Never mind French cheese becoming mindbogglingly expensive 
after January; crowds romping into shops in order to buy sweet and silly Christmas things and a nice case of Covid for the grandparents; Scotland squaring up to become a strong, successful, independent, bankrupt nation, see you Jimmy, the important thing, the really important thing is that Dame Commander Tits of the Order of the British Empire died peacefully in her care home of Alzheimer's. Her heartbroken 57-year-old husband, Scott Mitchell, (Phwoar), presumably didn't have sufficient cash left from Dame Tits' glittering career as a masturbatory icon in order to have her cared for privately in her own home. But he is heartbroken and told reporters: Dame Tits' last weeks were lived with her customary warmth, humour and drama. 'Kinell - that must have been downright terrifying for the staff. 
"Fucked both the Krays, din't I, lovely boys, and that Sid James, and that Kenneth Williams, ooermissus, he come wiv us on our 'unnymoon, me and Ronnie. Shall I get me tits out now, luv, or d'you wanna see my Peggy Mitchell? Nah, never wanted no kids, me an Ron an me an Stephen and me an Scott we dint want no kids, get in the way, like, so I 'ad 5 abortions, as you ave to, for the sake of yer career, like, an yer public."
 
A proper Lahndunner, born in Shoreditch within the sound of sumpin or uvver, our Babs was the nations' good-time girl - to be entirely distinguished from street prostitutes, who got no better than they deserved when offed by a combination of Peter Sutcliffe and a wholly bovine Yorkshire Police Force.
 
Here's how the nation likes to remember our Babs:


And, from mr ishmael's  obituary following the flash mourning for the late, great Cilla:
 
We're joined now by cultural icon
Barbara Tits


 Barbara, you knew Cilla Black, say something chirpy an' a bit smutty about her for us would you?

Oh, Kirsty, you are a one

.......wanna see my tits? 

But no, she was a proper dahlin', was Cilla. An' when I 'eard, about her passin' like, cor, I cooden Adam an' Eve it, I felt proper Moby, I did. 

We did fings togevver, like, me and Cilla
proper chinas we was.

But wharrahwoodsay, Kirsty, dahlin', is that this never woodofappened, norrif Ronnie and Reggie Kray was still alive. Diamond geezers they was, them boys, loved their old mum2bits, they did, an' everybody in our bizness is a bit gay, like them,   ain't we, Kirsty, dahlin';  
 
fancy a suck on me ol' melons afterwards, do ya? 

 Nah, not Cilla, too busy countin' her millions, she was, 'er an' er ole man, but no she were a Great Star, bit like meself, really, I got me 'undred year old tits fer you to gawp at and she 'ad her 'undred year old hit record. Diddden 'ave no tits' erself, like, an' the ol' BoatRace wasn't nuffin t'write ome abaht, 
 
more rodent than dolly bird,
them Hampsteads, in that Norf'n'Souf,  but ugly or not, she were a Great Star, were Cilla, a proper dahlin'. But no, I mean, Kirsty,  when them boys was around, Ronnie an' Reggie  you could leave yer door open and nuffin' wooduv 'appened.  

 

Wish I could say the same about me Mystic Megs, open them up an' 'alf a the East End'd be around, eh? 


 high-pitched shrieks and cackles and  cries of Cheeky!
 as old lady staggers, top-heavy, from the studio on impossibly high heels.
............................................................

Wrong Babs Tits, but I thought you might enjoy it:

WHAT THE PAPERS SAY 23/1/10

WORKERS CRUSHED, A TRIUMPH FOR THE PEOPLE, THE PEOPLE WHO MATTER.

BY SIMON HEFFELLATIO, IN THE DAILY FILTH-O-GRAPH.

As I pause in my Yuletide act of cunnilingus on my masters’ dog – a small gesture in recognition of their largesse - I cannot but reflect that I am beside myself with joy at the news that Mrs Justice Helena Knobstrangler, an eminentqueuecee, has outlawed workers’ rights. These people are worse than terrorists. At least the wogs manage mainly to blow themselves up more often than not but these union Johnnies threaten the very fabric of worthless tossers like me, after a year writing what my owners - currently the Bizarro Twins, but previously other distinguished criminal lunatics such as Sir Conrad Blackstockings and his fragrant, albeit dog-eared wife, Lady Barbara TitsOutForTheEditor – want me to write, being able to patriotically leave this great Realm and fuck off to the Caribbean with our baggages and bints and privately educated little vermin and enjoying purselves, lording it among the jet-set of international criminalati, such as Tony and Imelda Blair and whichever of the Gibb brothers is not dead from a drug overdose, taking every opportunity to suck on as many powerful knobs as possible, it’s a dirty job, but few can manage it as well as we in the Street of A Thousand Arseholes. Thank Goodness, I say, for Mrs Justice Knobstrangler, what we need is more of her kind, well, not exactly her kind, no more of the brogues and cigarilloes brigade, enough of them on the Treasury bench, fuck me, have you seen that Angela Eagle, case for squared-off broom handles if ever there was one but more of her opinion when it comes to where the national interest lies. I can let you have a few tickets for Any Questions. Cheap. No names, no pack drill. Wishing all my red-faced, psychotically indignant readers, but not Mr stanislav, the plumber, obviously, a bilious and sclerotic Filth-O-Graph Xmas; down on my knees in some Barbadian cottage, I shall be thinking of them. God bless them all and Death to the Poor.

In the High Court today, Mrs Justice Vera Knobstrangler, QC, said that she would be failing in her duty to her career in the Supreme Court if she did not rubbish the right of workers to withdraw their labour. I would be failing in my duty to myself if I did not uphold the claim of the plaintiff, Lord Wally Wanker of Terminal Five, to be able to steal his workers’ rights and terms and conditions and to do so on the flimsiest technicality I can find, ie that he doesn’t like it and nor does the GovernmentOfAllTheBankers. I rule, therefore, that the people have no rights in this matter and as precedent I cite the recent ruling by the noble and learned and bought-off members of Mr Straw’s Supreme Court, in the case of the People versus The RobbingBastardBankers in which Their Supremenesses judged that when it comes to Money, the Banks own it all, obviously, and the people should consider themselves, in Their Supremenesses not very humble and learned opinion, extremely fucking fortunate that the Bankers allowed they, the plaintiffs, to borrow-back some of their own money in the first fucking place and never mind fucking whining about being charged thirty-five fucking quid for a poxy, tuppeny-fucking-halfpenny, computer-generated, Oi! Cunt, Memorandum of fucking Usury. So there, bollocks. Appeal Court? Don’t make me fucking laugh.

For the govament Generalissimo Snot said that he was pleased by the Court’s ruling. We are Labour. We are at our best when we are stood together. Grinding the People’s faces in the dirt. We, the Labour Party, consisting of the Courts and the Bankers. Against the People. That is the message at the heart of this great movement of ours. And the Army, them, too. The Government and its Army, standing firm against the people. Mow the fuckers down on the street, Mr Tiny Speaker. The very idea, the very idea, Mr Tiny Speaker, that workers might withdraw their labour and thus disadvantage their betters at holiday times is just the sort of thing I joined the Labour Parrty to help stamp out. Does it not say in the Book of Isiah, Mr Deputy Speaker, that the people who walked in Darkness had better fucking-well behave themselves? Unlike the party of Charlies opposite, who have opposed, Mr Tiny Speaker, opposed Mr Tiny Speaker, opposed, Mr Tiny Speaker, the very necessary, modernising, civil liberty of a national DNA Data Base, of a National ID Card, of wall-to-wall surveillance, supervision and interrogation and, Mr Tiny Speaker, in the finest traditions of the Labour Party, the introduction of a heavily-armed unaccountable police service, led by hatchet-faced carpet-munchers, roaming the streets in high-powered vehicles, coked out of their gelled-up heads and machine-gunning completely guilty innocent passers-by in an orgy of automatic-weapon discharging gay male bonding. Or female. These, Mr Tiny Speaker, are very necessary reforms which Labour has brought to the country. Indeed, Mr Tiny Speaker, it is hard to think that just twelve years ago we inherited a nation in which people were entitled to jury trial and were considered innocent until fitted-up by the West Regional Crime Squad, operating out of the Edgbaston Masonic Temple and including, then, on its payroll Mr Justice Igor Judge, QC, as bent a lawyer as ever cheated a client or framed a citizen and now, quite properly, Mr Deputy Speaker, the Lord Chief Justice of England and Wales. Only not in Scotland, the best part of England, where they make other arrangements. Who better to have, Mr Tiny Speaker, as head of the judicary than a rotten, thieving piece of shit, like Mr Justice Judge? The British people, Mr Tiny Speaker, can be assured that their ancient liberties are safe in the hands of myself and the learned gentlemen –and split-arses, I have nothing against lesbians, Mr Tiny Speaker, indeed, my own, dear, official wife, Sarah-George is a fully paid-up muff-diver and only holds her present position for the eventual book rights and I am sure, Mr Tiny Speaker, that few seeing us canoodling and kissing like young lovers in our photo opportunities would imagine that she shrank from my touch as repelled as I from hers – of the Bench, the Bar and the Temple. (Sings in doleful brown voice) O Come, all ye faithful….

Joyful, all ye nations rise

...................... 

mr ishmael's essays were:

a fragment from THE DAY THE WORLD CAME ON HOLIDAY - published 4th August 2015

 WHAT THE PAPERS SAY            drafted     23/1/10

 



Naff orf that's not an icon - that's an icon -


 

16 comments:

Mike said...

I used to enjoy the old Carry On films, fitted the times; the saucy postcard era. Couldn't be done now. Old Syd James would be run out of the country. Can't blame an East End girl making the most of what she had. Whether it qualifies for a Damehood - well by current standards, probably yes.

mongoose said...

I think that that is about right, mr mike, about Babs. It was all quite innocent risque tits'n'bums silliness really. The national mourning of the 'tragic' death of a properly aged citizen is a bit OTT of course but that is where we are.

In other news, SCOTUS says that it election tomfoolery is none of their business, and Brexit arrives at the place it always had to arrive at. Which if either of these two world-shaking events - which must be transacted to the death over the next couple of days - will get honest discussion in the Press?

Mike said...

What's your betting Mr mongoose? Will Boris fold? I'm tending to think no, or he would have done it over his fish supper - the cheeky bastards.

mrs ishmael said...

Sorry, gentlemen, can I gently point you towards a more feminist perspective? Not wanting to preach or be boring here, but really? Really?
The argument that the past is a foreign country where they do things differently is regularly trotted out to excuse the most appalling predatory sexual behaviour, a past where, it seems, Saville's predelictions and actions were well known and tolerated, where Sutcliffe murdered thirteen women and attempted to murder seven others between 1975 and 1980 because he liked that sort of thing and because the police were hampered in their investigation by their beliefs that prostitutes were a second rate species of womanhood.
The Carry-on films were not just a bit of seaside bawdiness - they were a product of and fed into sexual mores in a deeply-damaging cycle of stereo-typing objectification of women that poisoned relationships between men and women. I see that they are being re-run on TV in some cack-handed tribute to the Dame.
Then there's the issue of being best and bosom friends with Britain's most dangerous and psychotic gangsters, and her 21 year long marriage to Ronnie Knight, another gangster and convicted criminal who was a ten year escapee on the Costa del Crime.
Naff orf, with the cheeky chirpy Cockney sparrer routine.
The fact that Britain is now engulfed in flash nourning for this woman who represents the dark underbelly of British working-class culture says a lot about Britain today. Maybe the nation has collective Alzheimer's.

mongoose said...

"Seemingly innocent tits'n'bums tosh but thoroughly demeaning to women." Shall we settle on that, mrs i? We bets not talk about Benny Hill and his lot though.

I think, mr mike, that Boris cannot cave completely or he is done. I suspect though that a piece of paper will be waved at some point this month and everyone will claim victory. The first bit of EU silliness should be met with a 50% tariff on German cars.

There never could have been a proper "deal" - from the very first day, this was true - because that would have necessarily been a redrawing of terms rather than a severance. As we have discussed here endlessly, the UK fucked itself over because TPTB were constantly trying to arrange BRINO. The sensible thing to do is to walk away and crreate the reality of no relationship.

On Jan 1, I would publish "the UK Fishing Rules" and invite any fisherman who wants to fish in UK waters to purchase a licence and sign a contract. Just cut the EU off at the fucking knees and go to the people. And likewise other arrangements drawn up in the clear dawn air.

inmate said...

Agreed Mrs I, the victims of predators and murderers and of course the police. Women have been and still are treated appallingly by some men, however dame tits had a choice, whether her marriages or her abortions, her film or TeeVee career. She made a fortune from being the show business slut.
Can’t fault the logic in anything you say there mr mongoose, we’re being played. For fools.

Mike said...

If I had to choose which Dame to go to dinner with, Dame Tits or Dame Dick, it would be the former.

The general theme of the Carry On films was domineering women (Hattie Jaques, Silvia Sims, even Babs in a different sort of way) and weak men. BTW my mother loved watching those films, and she was no shrinking violet - she could have commanded a Panzer Army.

I agree Sutcliffe was evil, but was his evil inherent or caused by watching Carry on Films? In those days, I think the prevailing attitude amongst most men, particularly the working class, was to be protective towards women. Less so now - you have to think twice about giving up your seat on a bus or opening the door for a woman. I don't think attitudes amonst men have improved towards women recently despite the rise of feminism and political correctness, in fact the opposite has happened and men are emasculated and marriage and birth rates are in decline in the West in general.

Mike said...

Apologies, Joan Sims not Silvia - although I liked Silvia.

mrs ishmael said...

I don't think there is a word that describes the female equivalent of emasculated. Effeminated? That sounds like something you'd apply to a bloke. Just looked up emasculated - the definition is "a man deprived of his male role or identity" And I was right, effeminate is described as "a man having characteristics regarded as typical of a woman; unmanly." So all roads lead back to the bloke as the gender by which all else is defined.
Of course Dame Babs was not a victim - she was a powerful agent, amassed personal wealth and achieved recognition and respect. She did this by demeaning women AND men - not single-handedly, of course, but as part of a soft porn industry that rendered toxic the relationships between men and women, by trivialising and ridiculing sex, destroying the magic at the heart of the pair bond, and rendering men impotent and comic.
I don't think she's responsible for declining birth rates - now, that WOULD have merited a Damehood, as over-poulation is the greatest threat to the survival of the human race - that has more to do with female education and reliable contraception.

ultrapox said...

@mrs ishmael

where the blazes was the #metoo-movement when - with the full backing of feminist-icon hillary clinton - obama's drone-programme was massacring and maiming muslim women - and their children - in afghanistan?

where the hell was the #metoo-movement when - with the full backing of feminist-icon hillary clinton - obama's missiles were murdering and maiming muslim women - and their children - in libya?

where in god almighty's name was the #metoo-movement when - with the full backing of feminist-icon hillary clinton - obama's bombs were butchering muslim women - and their children - in yemen, pakistan, and somalia?

where in the lord god almighty's name was the #metoo-movement when - with the full backing of feminist-icon hillary clinton - obama and biden were - in a disgustingly immoral attempt to overthrow president assad of syria - arming al qaeda to-the-teeth, and thereby intentionally fostering the creation of the woman-enslaving islamic state?

where in the name of jesus christ son-of-god was the #metoo-movement when - with the full backing of feminist-icon hillary clinton - the military intelligence agencies controlled by president barack obama, vice-president joe biden, prime minister david cameron, and then home secretary theresa may were evilly encouraging young men and women, from western countries, to join the islamic state in its cia-facilitated struggle to overthrow president assad of syria?

where in the name of the father, son, and holy friggin' ghost was the #metoo-movement when, in deprived areas of northern england, poor under-age white girls were - with the tacit consent of the #metoo-ing neo-liberal establishment - routinely, and systematically, being groomed, and abused, by adult male criminals?

where in christ's name was the #metoo-movement when - for the multi-billion-dollar-benefit of his neo-imperialist mining-mates - president bill clinton ordered the cia-orchestrated overthrow of zairean president mobuto, and in-so-doing, ignited a blood-mineral genocide - further fuelled by president obama - which ultimately cost the lives of over ten million congolese - many of whom were also the victims of systematic rape?

where in the lord jesus christ's name was the #metoo-movement when, for reasons of local political allegiance and expediency, feminist-icon hillary clinton turned a blind-eye to the growing islamist insurgency, in northern nigeria, which resulted in the kidnapping of nearly 300 hundred school-girls - not-to-mention the mass-murders of many nigerian tribespeople?

continued in part two below

ultrapox - part two said...

continued from part one above

well, i'll tell you where the #metoo-movement was:

it was waiting for the advent of a trump-led republican administration, under the convenient cover of which harvey weinstein's close friends in the democrat-party - namely the obamas and the clintons - would no longer be prone to suffering such acute political embarrassment at this predatory film-producer's public denunciation as a sex-offender.

to be honest, the #metoo-movement - like the black lives matter movement - has constituted nothing more than a barely disguised partisan attack, by the democratic party, upon president donald hump.

the #metoo-movement has always been completely controlled by democrats, thus there's no doubt that, under a hillary clinton presidency, horney wienerstrain would have continued to enjoy the ongoing protection of his corrupt close friends in the whitewash-house - and that, in the absence of the politically approved exposure of mr molestamax, the #metoo-movement would never have received the neo-liberal establishment's tactical turbo-charging, which ultimately proved so critical to the #metoo-tag's global adoption.

all said, #metoo is a highly discriminatory and disingenuous movement, which exists exclusively for the benefit of rich white women - but also, tragically, as an unhelpful, and even deliberate, political distraction from the neo-liberal establishment's ongoing ideological campaign of mass oppression and genocide against non-white women in africa, asia, and the middle-east.

public perception deems the #metoo-movement to have definitely become an exclusive democrat-aligned club for rabidly anti-trump white millionairesses - who are now desperately seeking to smooth out the bumps in a guilt-trip produced by the manner in which they have personally climbed the greasy career-pole - and moreover, due to its life-affirming party political affiliations, #metoo - just like black lives matter - really cannot claim to be a generic grassroots civil rights movement.

after all, where is the mountain of #metoo and black lives matter criticism which could, and should, have been levelled at the racially and sexually aggressive joe biden - yet, due to the abject political dependence of these politically phoney puppet-movements on white democrat-establishment-support, of course never will be?

i mean-to-say, where was the black lives matter movement during the obama administration's genocidal assault upon countries in the middle-east, africa, and asia?

oh where has the black lives matter movement been during the endless congo genocide, which was originally triggered by president canibill clinton's neo-imperialist orchestration of blood-mineral-wars - and from which a minted multitude of clinton mining friends, the corrupt chasm of the clinton foundation, and even the gobby-gangster biden-family have all obscenely profited?

indeed, where has the black lives matter movement been during the eu-empire's twenty-five-year-long facilitation of the neo-colonial blood-mineral-trade - which is permitted to flow freely from an african continent already suffering historic eu economic oppression?

yes, sadly, one must conclude that black lives matter is no more part of the true - pan-african and black liberation - rbg-movement - which, on universal matters of race, has consistently challenged trump and biden in equal measure - than #metoo is part of any true feminist movement.

ultrapox said...

mrs ishmael,

how can you not appreciate the hilarious politico-historical satire of the mutinous maritime masterpiece carry on jack, or the revolutionary-ridiculing carry on don't lose your head, or the rude roman romp carry on cleo, or the royal-ripping carry on henry - starring sid james and barbara windsor?

how can you not appreciate the perfect parody of policing in the very silly hammer-horror-sendup carry on screaming...?

or the lavatorial lampooning of the left in the striking socio-political satire of carry on at your convenience...?

or perhaps the subtle satire on sexual politics bursting forth from the consummate carry on cabby?

there's a complete and well-rounded education to be gleaned from those classic films.

mrs ishmael said...

mr ultrapox,thank you for your critique of American foreign policy, the dirty Democrats and their links to metoo and BLM - not a foot wrong, sir; totally agree with you and your righteous indignation.
As for the Carry On films: were they sending up or perpetuating stereotypes?

ultrapox said...

the carry on films, mrs ishmael, merrily reinforce the notion of the archetypical strong woman...

and realize this noble aim, comedically, by setting she who must be obeyed in stark aesthetic contrast with the archetypical dumb blonde - usually played by barbara windsor...

although in all fairness, i must confess that, in her final epiphanic performance as turpin's partner-in-crime, in carry on dick, barbara windsor does in fact successfully shed the rôle of erotically exploited and sexistly repressed female - which so tragically dogged her earlier carry on career - and in this frolicking farewell film rather appears to achieve some sort of carry on catharsis.

mrs ishmael said...

My issue with these stereotypes is that they stand in the way of authentic identities and relationships. If they reflect life, which I doubt they ever did, they reinforce these one-dimensional types, reflecting the reinforced type back as a limited range of possible role models for the developing girl to identify with. She does not see her own tastes, interests, preferences and body shapes depicted within these few possible versions of womanhood presented by the media and so concludes that by some dreadful mischance, she is in the wrong body and so demands gender re-assignment. And the impact of these these limited narratives of womanhood on developing boys is toxic. The fact that the Carry On films were technically, cinematically and comedically effective is fairly irrelevant in comparison with the damage they did.

ultrapox said...

@ultrapox - 5 january 2021 at 03:57

the last paragraph of the above comment would better read as follows:


"however, i must confess that, by virtue of her epiphanic carry on dick performance as turpin's partner-in-crime, the ever bubbly barbara does in fact successfully shed the rôle of erotically exploited and sexistly repressed female - a recurring rôle-type which so tragically dogged her earlier carry on career - and in all fairness, it is through the assertion of her positive side, in this frolicking farewell film, that ms windsor ultimately appears to achieve some sort of carry on catharsis."


as regards, the carry on casting and character development, mrs ishmael, i simply cannot agree that this could ever be considered one-size-fits-all or even off-the-peg, for that matter.