Sunday 19 December 2021

The Sunday Ishmael 19/12/2021

Music of the hautboys is under the stage
Second Soldier:     Music i' th' air
Third Soldier:             Under the earth
Fourth Soldier:     It signs well, does it not?
Third Soldier:             No.
First Soldier:     Peace, I say! What should this mean?
Second Soldier:         'Tis the god Hercules, 
                                    whom Anthony loved, now 
                                    leaves him.
Act iv, scene iii Antony and Cleopatra 

How much more  can Boris take? What's next? The suggestion is that Allegra fielded even more indiscreet questions in that fake press conference last December, and they all had a jolly good giggle about Boris' Giant Propensities and bastard children. They really are a sack of rats.
The triple pillar of the world transformed into a strumpet's fool

That's enough Shakespeare. ed.
The Contenders for Britain's next (unelected) Prime Minister:
Lord David (Jack) Frost

Wasn't he the one just resigned on issues of integrity?
Tank-Girl Truss
Rishi (rentboysuit) Sunak
Order! Order! The White Guy has it.
What, Me?
Jeremy *unt
No, silly, we'll take the portly integritous one.

 It will be just like old times again - having an unelected Prime Minister - here's mr ishmael on the last one:

Now look, the Taliban tried very hard to kill me.  Well, they might have tried to kill me. At the very least, they might have thought about trying to kill me, rather as I think about killing them, all the time, when I'm not thinking of ways of punishing poor people, that is. Look, I know that they actually do kill lots of people, those chaps coming home in boxes and so on, most weeks, but that's absolutely vital if, as a nation,  we are to ensure that America rewards our senior politicians, in retirement. Now I know that some people have difficulty with the fact that politicians all have stonking pensions and free homes and furniture and directorships and so shouldn't really be getting rich from American terror companies but frankly, I think we all need to be grown-up about this and you should all fucking shut the fuck up or else we'll have to raise your pension-age to seventy.  Or eighty.  Or actually abolish the wretched things altogether, 'snot as though you've paid for them or anything. I don't actually need the money from GangsterCorp, not like Mr Blair and his ghastly Scouse bicycle,  but you  know, we Flashmans didn't get where we are by declining stolen money and when, after Christmas, the party sacks me, I might just as well go and lecture in the States. So let's have some sympathy out there;  the Talimen didn't kill me but there was a remote chance that they might have, and that's actually worse.  Look, I mean, just ask some single mother in her forties, biting her nails, in the council home she will soon have to vacate,  if she'd rather have her Darren come home dead or instead be worried by him briefly visiting Afghaniland inside a cordon of steel and  having his photo taken a lot and I'm pretty darn sure that she'd rather have him dead.  So, you see, it's worse for me. But what I always say is the we're all in this together or, as we used to say in the Bullingdon Club, which I was never in, dulce et decorum est pro Davidus mori, it is good to die for one's unelected prime minister, and these chaps are lucky we give them the chance to do so.


LT. Commander Data,  of the Starship All-In-This-Together...
His five-year Mission: To stay in office at all costs.
"Ensign Clegg, put the CIVILISATION THRUSTERS in reverse"
"Aye-aye, Pretend Captain, full speed backwards to the glory days of the Nineteen-Thirties."

And something else. We've just had a working baby, no, no, not working as in common people, working for their betters, like us, no,  fuck that, working in the sense that she's not bedevilled by the old inbreeding germs, good working order, geddit? So that's another reason to love the Coalition of which I am in charge, only not like a proper prime minister.  One who'd actually won an election, against the worst, most despised  govament in history.  Just because I couldn't even manage  to do  that doesn't mean I shouldn't be prime minister, winning elections isn't what it's all about. If I ever do win one, which I won't,  then that will be what it's all about but since I haven't, it isn't.
Now look, just like all the children, little Flo will have to make her way in the world with  the barest fortune of about a hundred million pounds to help her on her way, so, in a sense, she's representative of all the babies in the country. Flo won't have a babybung or whatever they are. And her mother certainly won't be able to stay at home all day, dossing, or bonding with baby, as the idle sluts call it.  That's what nannies and servants are for, just as long as you don't pay them too much. Spoils 'em for other employers, that does. Having little baby Flo as we just have is almost like a pure publicity stunt of the sort performed by Mr Snot, the mad fairy  and Mr Kennedy, the pisshead but Samantha and I wouldn't stoop to that, any more than I would ride my bike with a limousine following behind me, with my clothes and my comb. No, we are just like any other normal couple of fabulously wealthy, land-owning, over-privileged, inbred and actually quite ugly fuckpigs, she equine with a big hooter, and me like an android, pretending that we are all in this together. With you. As if. Why can't people just be fooled, like Mr Coulson says they will, and support the Coalition? It's what they voted for, after all. Full speed astern. Unsteady as she goes.
 The Lord Mayor of London - yes, dear non-English Ishmaelites, there really is such a thing, and it is Pantomime Season, after all; was interviewed on the last edition of the Andrew Marr show this morning. 
Well, Andrew, and may I congratulate you on your presentation of 16 years of this BBC sycophancy, and I understand that you are off on Fresh Adventures where you can be your Own Man and have your Own Voice...
Yes, yes, yes, Lord Mayor, get on with it...
Well, Andrew, they are having a Cobra meeting and they've not invited me, and I'm Lord Mayor of London.
What of it, Lord Whittington?
Well, Andrew. London is collapsing and I have taken steps.
What steps are those, may I ask? (I actually know the answer, but it sounds good). 

I have declared a "Major Incident". I'm incredibly concerned about the numbers of Covid infections. It is incredibly important that Londoners understand how incredibly serious things are. 
Lord Mayor, I put it to you that the UK Health Security Agency said yesterday that the number of deaths in England of people with the Omicron variety has risen to seven, from the previous figure of one.
You see, Andrew, you see - the hospitals are swamped. London is collapsing. Everyone must have their vaccinations. I'm targeting all the black people, Polish people, gypsy people, Jewish people - all the non white Londoners. We must prevent this tidal wave from swamping our hospitals. And I really want to go to the Ball - sorry, Cobra meeting.

Thank you, that was Sadiq Khan, Mayor of London. 
Oh yes, it was.
Now I turn to the Mayor's cat:
Cameron Bess, pansexual furry
Cameron Bess, a rich man's son, was a passenger on the space ship, Blue Origin, owned by Jeff Bezos. Cameron is a twitch streamer named Meepskitten who likes to dress up as a blue cat. It's a thing. They call each other furries. It's a sexual thing. Honest, not Invent. He enjoyed his space ride with the  five other passengers. They played with little blue footballs. Didn't seem quite as overawed as Captain James T. Kirk-Shatner.

Answers to last week's Quiz
1. Is there A SpecSavers in Barnard Castle?
A. Yes. At 21 Horse Market, Barnard Castle, DL12 8LX
2. If a roll of wallpaper costs £840 a roll and is 10.5 metres long, how much will it cost to re-paper your 4 bedroom flat? 
 A. It depends on how many drops per roll. It is estimated that the No. 11 flat redecoration cost up to £200,000, but that place has very high ceilings and you'd get away with much less in a Seventies' semi.
3. When is a blind trust (a) nothing to do with curtains (b) not very trustworthy?
A.  When it doesn't exist. Boris decided, against legal advice, to commission a non-charitable trust to accept secret cash donations for his redecoration project. He appointed Lord Brownlow, who has a bob or two, as Chair of the Trust on 10/7/2020. The Trust was never set up. Brownlow paid for the redecoration out of his own pocket. The Conservatives have been fined £17,800 for their "lack of regard for the law" by the Electoral Commission.
4. When is a Party Not a Party?
 A. When alcohol is not served, according to Nazhim Zahawi, and it is held in the work place.  
5. How many serving Prime Ministers have had a baby? Were any of them female? Is this an Equal Opportunities issue? 
 A. (a) Four: 
                John Russell (1848 and 1849 - two kids, not a long labour)
               Tony Blair (2006)
                David Cameron (2010)
                Boris Johnson (2020 and 2021) 
      (b) None of them were female - there have been only two female Prime Ministers - Margaret Thatcher (1979-1990) and Theresa May (2016-2019), and they were past child-bearing age.
       (c) Probably. Apart from Macron, who married his teacher, 25 years older than himself, male heads of state tend to marry way beneath themselves - wealth and power being such aphrodisiacs for young women - just look at Monica and Virginia; whereas women do not achieve Great Offices of State until later in life. Biology is an Equal Opportunities Issue. However, just because they can doesn't mean they should. Hard enough running a country at the best of times, let alone when you are up all night with the baby, and hyper-emotional. Look at Boris. 
6. What Fresh Bollocks is This?
A. Served hot and steaming every day this last week, it seems.
7. How much longer will the Great British Public accept being openly mocked, derided and laughed at? 
A. Forever, I should think. The Royal Family has been getting away with it for years. 

Winner of the Mid-Week Caption Contest:
 Once again, they were all brilliant. le Marquis de sardine-sarnies submitted his entry twice, but no special privileges for that. I liked the serious face caption very much, but I can't possibly choose amongst such wit and erudition, so all shall have prizes. mr mike entertained hugely with his photo-entry:
so nice to see the bull getting his own back.

Today's Competition:  Name that Film
We saw that new gay movie: The Queens of the Ringpieces. 
All those simpering, wetlipped urchin boys and musclerippling moustachioed warriors. Looks like they hired the cast from the public urinal under New Street Station. I fell asleep after two hours. mrs. ishmael was not so lucky.
Film Review by ishmael smith 
The two anthologies of the works of mr ishmael and his young friend stanislav: Honest Not Invent and Vent Stack are available to buy for mere money from Lulu or Amazon. It is cheaper to buy from Lulu. Register an account with Lulu to save a couple of quid, as going straight into the link provided below seems to make paypal think it's ok to charge in dollars, and apply their own conversion rate, which will put the price up slightly for a UK buyer. Once the new account is set up, follow our link; a pop-up box asks for age confirmation - simply set the date to (say) 1 January 1960, and proceed. (If you type the title, the anthology will not appear as a search result until the "show explicit content" box - found at the bottom left by scrolling down - has been checked.  You may also see the age verification box, as above, at this point.) 
 The full title is "Vent Stack love from stanislav" by ishmael smith, and the cover you'll see is red with white titles and a picture of Buster the Previous Blog Dog having a green thought in a green shade. 

Link for the paperback:


shorter link, which might make it easier if you wish to paste it into an email and tell a friend:

 Honest, Not Invent is available in paperback or hardback.
Link for Hard Back :

Link for Paper Back

At checkout, try PROWRITINGAID15, WELCOME15 or TREAT15 in the coupon box, which  takes 15% off the price before postage.  If this code has expired by the time you reach this point, try a google search for " voucher code" and see what comes up.  
With the 15% voucher, the book (including delivery to a UK address) should cost £10.89



Mike said...

Boris will be gone by The Ides of March. Sunak seems the clever cloggs - at least he thinks so - but when push comes to shove, in the confessional box when the Tories place their X, traditional racial thoughts will come to the fore. So it will be Truss - God help Britain, she's a warmonger - not that the UK could manage a battle, much less a decent war. It seems to be a continual downward trend in Prime Ministers. But lets be Frank, with the exposure to social media, its now not possible to have a little hanky-panky, get a few brown envelopes for services rendered, or even get drunk. So decent chaps just won't bother, and only the unemployable dregs and narcissists are left over.

julius boozer said...

et tu frosty?

julius sea-saw said...

et tu frosty?

julius snuffler said...

oh dear

friends, friends-of-friends and err...not-such-friends, lend me your small change


mongoose said...

The loss of Frost is a bad sign. A bad sign for us and a bad sign for Bojo. It is a sign that TPTB are winning in their counterattack.

The covid warriors too are massing for one last battle. The moronic variant - already everywhere and unstoppable - is basically a pretty mild cold. If you haven't had it, get it now. Nature will then not only protect you from further bouts of it but also from other variants of cv19. This time however with the lower risks of serious disease than were present with the earlier more dangerous variants. You lot down in Oz, mr mike, should open the borders immediately and hope for it to sweep through the nation. The so-called vaccines are now surpassed by nature. As was always going to be the case. You read it here last.

Will Bojo survive? He has the insouciance to prevail but has he the grit to fight on? Has he the tools to be able even to renew battle?

It is becoming a problem for the STEM-illiterate political classes. PPE and Classics don't cut it anymore. I could, if he asked me, point Boris to any number of completely honest, unable-to-lie scientists and engineers of the very highest calibre who would tell him the truth about what we know and don't know about things like climate, energy and even virology. But these folk never get to speak to people like Bojo, and Bojo doesn't even know that it is supremely necessary that he learns that they exist, and that he learns to understand them. He needs first to begin to understand that a model isn't science at all let alone 'the science'. Ho hum.

Anonymous said...

Would it (a model) be more accurately called science fiction, mr mongoose? The clever-bugger, nuts-and-bolts, thought-through kind, but fiction all the same.

btw is 25 across of your soon-to-be-posted Christmas crossword a single 9-letter answer?



mongoose said...

Buggered if I know, mr v. Just a sec...

Nope. (5,4) Well spotted. I'll fix and send to mrs i.

Anonymous said...

That's grand, mr mongoose. thanks.


mongoose said...

Regarding the science fiction, mr v, you will have noticed that we have pivoted away from "you're all going to do unless..." to "we'll have lots of cases and it will be difficult to carry on with full public services and such if lots of folk aren't available". The not available is, of course, mandated isolation rather than illness. If you get a sniffle, you soldier on and get the fuck to work. This should be true even if it is moronic sniffle.