Fucking Absolutely Shitty Slippery Hypocritical CockWaving Bastard Turd
Just Saying.
She is growing on me, Head Girl Sophie. Thought she was going to haul off and deck him, the blithering bloated bombastic mutant, during her Munich Interview with him at the foot of a very ordinary staircase on the 19th February. At one point he lunged towards her, fist clenched, but restrained himself - not a good look, that.
Thin-lipped, shaken, but admirably persistent, she politely hammered away at him thusly:
Sophe: Prime Minister, you are under investigation by the police at home.
Albino Mutant: We are going to open up the Russian Doll, as Joe Biden explained to us last night, sort out the networks of Russian finance in London and we've given £100 million in economic support to the Ukrainians.
Sophe: What?? You are choosing not to answer questions about Partygate?
Albino Mutant: I really want to, Sophie, but I'm not allowed to because there's a process underway. Not a bean am I allowed to tell you. In the meantime, I am trying to bring the world together. As our American Friends explained, what matters is the sovereignty and independence of Ukraine. We just have to focus on the things we have to focus on. Avoid a tragedy in Ukraine.
Sophe (stunned, but determined): Do you remember the image of the Queen sitting alone at her husband's funeral? Aren't you embarrassed? Shouldn't you apologise to the Queen?
Albino Mutant: I'll answer all your questions in due course because I really want to and because we are living in a Democracy and we want to make sure that Ukrainians continue to live in a Democracy. I must protect a sovereign European country from a devastating attack. I must fight Covid. I must fight Crime. I must re-open our economy. I must encourage people down the path of home ownership.
Sophe: You are as unpopular as John Major and there is no legal impediment to you discussing Partygate.
A.M. : I have explained that all questions will be answered in due course. Once the legal process has concluded. Please focus on the fact that since the Berlin Wall came down in 1989 countries could choose their own destinies and this could be the biggest war in Europe since 1945 and the world must learn the lessons of 2014. We cannot let Putin get away with it and we cannot continue to allow European dependence on hydrocarbon fuels.
Sophe: Turning to Prince Andrew's affairs, Prime Minister, is public money paying the settlement that has been made with Virginia Giuffre?
A.M.: Now, Sophie, I can't answer questions about the Royal Family.
Sophe: It is a question about public money.
A.M. No Prime Minister can talk about the Royal Family.
Indeed, not - he can talk up a war, he can remove self-isolation and free covid testing - is there anything that this canting piece of Bullingdonia will not do to distract from his uniquely contemptuous approach to the rules that he imposed on the population with no intention whatsoever of following them himself?
I daresay that most Ishmaelites read Private Eye, the last organ of independent investigative journalism in Britain. In case you missed this story, however, from Edition 1567, you'll be interested in this further example of what fun it is to work in the partying Civil Service. In response to the Eye's Freedom of Information enquiry, we learn that the Department for Education's internet security blocked more than 1.7 million attempts to access banned websites on its computer networks. During the 90 days from September to December 2021 there were 61,900 visits to betting sites at the Whitehall Department. Employees tried to access adult sites, including porn on 31,180 occasions. Also popular were visits to dating apps, more than 150,000 attempts to play online games and looking at lingerie. Employees attempted to hide their internet activity from IT administrators, with 11,896 clicks on proxies and VPNs.
In May 2009, the number of swine flu cases in the UK reached 99 on the 1st May. On the 8th May, The Daily Telegraph began publishing, unredacted, the full copy of MPs' expenses claims. Four days later, David Cameron, then leader of the Conservatives in Opposition, said he would pay back a £680 expenses claim on his constituency home and ordered fellow Tory MPs to repay thousands of pounds in unlawful claims. On the 14th May, MPs from all parties were either suspended or announced their resignations due to the expenses scandal. A few weeks later, almost 100 MPs announced they would not stand at the next general election. On the 19th May, Speaker Michael Martin announced his resignation following widespread criticism of his handling of the expenses scandal. On the 20th May, Labour Peers, Lord Taylor of Blackburn and Lord Truscott were suspended from Parliament for 6 months apiece for breaching the code of conduct and failing to act on their personal honour in the matter of the 2009 cash for influence scandal.
On the 23rd May 2009, mr ishmael posted September 1, 1939, by W.H. Auden. Rendering it in prose increased its power. It seems particularly appropriate to re-post it today, as we sit in the shadow of another European War, British, American and Russian dictators deciding whether we live or die; a global pandemic; troughing MPs selling Questions for Cash; Civil Servants busy with their gambling and porn; the Royal Family mired in sexual scandal and in selling favours and Honours for cash and so on and so forth. Didn't someone, somewhere, somewhence say it is time to drain the swamp?
SEPTEMBER 1, 1939, by W.H. AUDEN
I sit in one of the dives on Fifty-second Street uncertain and afraid, as the clever hopes expire of a low dishonest decade: waves of anger and fear circulate over the bright and darkened lands of the earth, obsessing our private lives; the unmentionable odour of death offends the September night.
Accurate scholarship can unearth the whole offence from Luther until now that has driven a culture mad, find what occurred at Linz, what huge imago made a psychopathic god:
I and the public know what all schoolchildren learn, those to whom evil is done do evil in return.
Exiled Thucydides knew all that a speech can say about Democracy, and what dictators do, the elderly rubbish they talk to an apathetic grave; analysed all in his book, the enlightenment driven away, the habit-forming pain, mismanagement and grief: we must suffer them all again.
Into this neutral air where blind skyscrapers use their full height to proclaim the strength of Collective Man, each language pours its vain competitive excuse: but who can live for long in an euphoric dream; out of the mirror they stare, imperialism's face and the international wrong.
Faces along the bar cling to their average day: the lights must never go out, the music must always play, all the conventions conspire to make this fort assume the furniture of home; lest we should see where we are, lost in a haunted wood, children afraid of the night who have never been happy or good.
The windiest militant trash
Important Persons shout is not so crude as our wish: what mad Nijinsky wrote about Diaghilev is true of the normal heart; for the error bred in the bone of each woman and each man craves what it cannot have, not universal love but to be loved alone.
From the conservative dark into the ethical life the dense commuters come, repeating their morning vow;
'I will be true to the wife,
I'll concentrate more on my work,'
And helpless governors wake to resume their compulsory game:
Who can release them now,
Who can reach the dead,
Who can speak for the dumb?
All I have is a voice to undo the folded lie, the romantic lie in the brain of the sensual man-in-the-street and the lie of Authority whose buildings grope the sky: there is no such thing as the State and no one exists alone; hunger allows no choice to the citizen or the police; we must love one another or die.
Defenceless under the night our world in stupor lies; yet, dotted everywhere, ironic points of light flash out wherever the Just exchange their messages: may I, composed like them of Eros and of dust, beleaguered by the same negation and despair, show an affirming flame.
Massive Flying Trampolines present Hazard to low flying Drones.
Showers of Drug cargoes fall from the skies into Suburban Gardens.
Mummy, the Easter Bunny has dropped off some presents. Funny, it doesn't taste like chocolate.
It's been windy down your way, I understand. Here in the Bracing Isles, it has been weather as usual. Here's a diatribe from mr ishmael, which also includes an Orkney Weather Commentary:
The
local, PBC Radio Morning Abo, it is unimaginably hateful to me - cod accents,
stagey linguistic anachronism and that hissing, Presbyterian bigotry
and racism, the moral compassing of the amoral Gordon Snot, that sort
of snooty, son of the Manse preachiness - and the English on that show
are even worse, they all sound like David and Ruth Archer, relentless,
sinister bullies, determinedly earnest and sanctimonious, people Living
the Quality of Life Dream, living in a hovel, with a rusty Land-Rover,
vile children and a couple of sickly goats which they should be banned
from keeping. They all go back South, these people, lacking the inner
resources required for island life, vulnerable beyond the fortifications
of the M25 and the M42. The Radio Orkney news is generally along the
lines of There's a big puddle on the road to Stromness; sheep are
fetching X poonds at the mart; for the fourteenth year in succession,
Mrs Annie Scragg has won the neeps'n'tatties pie-making competition at
the Mucksville Women's Guild; fairmers have expressed concern aboot the
geese annoying the coos and eatin' the seed and the weather is set to be
sunny, windy, wintry, fine, warm, very cold with sleet and snow, calm
with gale force winds.
I
have felt and seen hypodermic needles injecting anaesthetic into my
eyeballs and so I know of what I speak when I say I would rather stick
pins in my eyes than listen to Radio Orkney.
The
evening show is worse; they have music on it, local music. I saw it
once, in a community hall, that Jimmy Shand Polka music; I thought, not
for the first time, that I had wandered into a horror film; there was a
skeletal old woman, must've been eighty, thumbing away, deftly, at a
huge Fender Precision bass guitar, a wee fat man wrestling with one of
those fucking awful Hohner piano-keyed accordions, not a concertina, a
big, shiny fuck-off thing, the only appropriate setting for which is in
an Austrian Nazi oom-pah band - quite how that is traditional to the
Northern Isles I'm buggered if I know - and there was a weedy teenager,
snapping a Polka beat from a tiny wee snare drum. It is a matter of
taste, of course but I enjoy many, many types of music, from all over
the world and have even heard some amazing world music right here and
yet I couldn't find a space in my mind for this stuff. I couldn't move, I
felt as though I had been turned to lead.
Extracted from:
WOTSONTELLY. A TOTAL ECLIPSE OF THE MIND. 21st March 2015
It is a huge relief to Orcadians that the Scottish Government has finally succumbed to the pleas and lamentations of the fairmers and has agreed to send a Geese Investigation Unit to the Isles. No doubt slaughter on a Biblical scale will ensue, to protect the fields and incomes of fairmers from hungry and weary geese, pausing on their epic planetary migrations to spite the fairmers by stripping their fields and poohing everywhere.
Anagram Corner - four from mr verge this Sunday.
worthy Arab semen
mother was nearby
erase brawny moth
seaworthy
barmen
Sports Corner
UK Olympic Victory : Competitive floor mopping
Stop Press Stop Press Stop Press
Charles gives Covid to the QE11. Well, Boris says they've just got to learn to live with the Virus. Or not.
Should
you wish to read the thoughts of mr ishmael and his young friend
stanislav, there are two anthologies available, edited by mr verge: Honest Not Invent
and Vent Stack - which 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:
https://www.lulu.com/en/us/shop/ishmael-smith/vent-stack/paperback/product-q8jzk2.html?page=1&pageSize=4
Or...
shorter link, which might make it easier if you wish to
paste it into an email and tell a friend:
https://tinyurl.com/naajavmu
Honest, Not Invent is available in
paperback or hardback.
Link for Hard Back :
https://www.lulu.com/en/us/shop/ishmael-smith/honest-not-invent/hardcover/product-njr7vg.html
Link for Paper Back :
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With the 15% voucher, the book (including delivery to a UK
address) should cost £10.89
18 comments:
Auden, such a glorious, tattered man and mind. A lovable and loving person, despite it all. For sheer cleverness he takes some beating in the 20th century. This is at his heart and is true of so many of us:
".....Because there are many whose works
Are in better taste than their lives, because there is no end
To the vanity of our calling, make intercession
For the treason of all clerks....."
Lovely piece again, thank you, Mrs I.
Thank you, mr BB. In our judgmental, narrowly woke times, where academic and literary freedoms have disappeared like smoke, we will find ourselves, like the "living books" at the end of Fahrenheit 451, attempting to preserve our heritage before the work is bowdlerised and the author cancelled.
Auden is a favourite.
Boris is rapidly shaping up to be one of the worse PMs - maybe not as evil as Blair - but in some ways worse. He's lazy, easily influenced, seems to lack the proverbial moral compass, cannot manage, like licking Uncle Sam's arse, and seems overfond of the grog. He's nowhere near as clever as he thinks he is with all his cod Latin and buffoonery. And he can't control his cock. I must say that from afar (and God knows we have our own clown PM in Morrison) the UK is increasing looking irrelevant, and sad in trying to play the big boy's game. Truss made a complete arse of herself in Moscow (not reported in London media); Wallace fared somewhat better because, as a military man, he naturally showed respect to superior officers Shoigu and Gerassimov - the latter can be especially intimidating. But to their credit they responded warmly and politely to Wallace, as would a good commander with an enlisted man. When Wallace returned to London he was forced to backtrack on what he said in Moscow. Again, not properly reported on in the London media.
I don't particularly wish and ill on Brenda, as a person, but if she croaks with the virus then the UK enters exceptionally difficult times.
Personally, mrs i, I do not vote for people who are any of the following
a) a halfwit known as Ed Vaizey,
b) anyone who has been shown to have been a thief and chiseler of expenses.
A recent incumbent of my area qualified for disqualification by managing to be both a) and b) at the same time! (We must thank our small mercies because if I was fifty feet east of here, I'd have to not vote for Bojo.)
I see that the plague is over. That must be a comfort to her Maj who despite being jabbed like a pin cushion has the Rona. And she must have taken so many of the prophylactics - that don't exist because Orangeman Bad Bad Bad - that she jangles and rattles as she walks the corgis.
In other news, there are now freedom convoys all over Canada that the media will never tell you about the Grannie Trampler has gone full on loco, and in DC the government buildings are ringed with steel in preparation for something we don't want to think about but might be the Loon-in-Chief giving his State of the Union speech. This will, I hereby predict, be very short and consist of no words of greater than two syllables. It will be along the lines of "War not happen. Me did it." Get your popcorn ready.
I am alarmed, mr v, that your four anagrams seem to be one anagram. What seaworthy barmen were doing with worthy Arab semen is between presumably consenting adults but I very much hope that mother was not mearby.
Knew you'd spot that, mr mongoose, though it was a tad cruel not to have provided the usual numerical layout of letters, as follows : 3,2,5,5. (And given what's reportedly just happened, there should probably be a question mark into the bargain.)
cheers
v./
Got it now, mr v. As you say, too much data with the word lengths. I won't spoil it hough.
I see that Mr P has put the boot in as a peace-keeper. Say what you will about him, the lad has a sense of humour.
Mr mongoose: just listen to his speech. Tremendous stuff - fiery and a history lesson to boot. All but a declaration of war on the West. He's clearly had it with fools. The most forceful speech I've ever heard.
https://youtu.be/GjMnTo85S4A
The Beeb has been painting Putin all day, mr mike, as an out-of-touch demagogue surrounded by yes-men. It's all co-ordinated with Bojo's similar message and the noises coming out of the US too. It seems to me that they have all been strategically outplayed by the "independent" regions posture.
Mr m: the Western MSM has gone completely crazy. Apart from the obits in the Telegraph I try to avoid it.
Putin is a master-craftsman. Here is a good read.
https://thesaker.is/the-day-russias-patience-ran-out/
Sorry, mr mike, that m was me. (Blasted cat has cleared by browser cached form entries now. Blasted thing better learn to swim.)
They are like children. They believe what they're told to believe and just parrot it out when prodded. The BBC is ashadow of what it was. The news is now one BBC journalist - I use the term loosely - interviewing another BBC 'expert' and them both agreeing that the BBC has got this right, the Tories have got it wrong, that Kier Starmer has lovely hair, and it is probably Trump's fault.
Crikey, what a shitshow!
Yon lad Wallace, mr mike , was earlier prattling about kicking Russia's arse in the Crimean War. That'll have Mad Vlad redoing his risk assessment, oh yes.
And did nobody think that allowing the watermelon eco-loons to harangue Europe into being reliant on Russian gas was a tad on the short-sighted side? FFS the Germans are as clueless as our lot. Unless Angela was playing the long game and has stepped down in the as cunning as Baldrick nick of.
Mr mongoose: I can't even speak of Liz Truss, but the lad Wallace is way over his head. Vlad is the ultimate judo player; he has used the US and Europe's arrogance and assumed strengths against them. All the cards are in Vlad's hands; to change metaphors, he has the collective West by the balls.
Europe's strategic reserves of gas are empty; Gazprom is only supplying to long term contracts NOT the spot market, whereas Europe is buying on the spot market. Which went up around 10% yesterday before a shot has been fired. But there is no supply on the spot market. And LNG is a mere drop in the bucket. Gazprom is already connecting the gas fields that would supply Europe to the China network. Basically Russia has given up on Europe. This means not just massive inflation in the West, and the loss of competitiveness to China, but literally the lights will go out and people will freeze. And the UK isn't immune - it imports Russian LNG.
But this is one mere facet. If any one tries anything fancy militarily in Eastern Europe, then they will be smashed.
PS when I say the West I mean the US as well, not just Europe.
Mr mongoose: well, you may be onto something. Angela was East German and spoke fluent Russian, and got on well with Vlad. Who is to say which master she was serving?
I know that you meant it not as such, mr mike, but I need no lessons in the depth of stupidity being brought to bear upon energy strategy. The fuckers are insane and as scientifically illiterate as Brer Fucking Rabbit. They do not seem to understand that one cannot double the cost of energy spend without a) breaking businesses, and b) killing pensioners in the winter.
As for Angela, Sir. Give me the child...
Mr mongoose - no offense intended, I know this is not news to you, but there are others that might need a jog.
Well in the last couple of hours the war began, and initial reports are that Ukraine's military are being systematically destroyed. Also, Borispol airport is under attack, closing any escape route from Ukraine. Putin has spoken of war crimes tribunals, and that Russia has all the evidence on the guilty for the genocide in 2014/15 and subsequent. This is a cleaning of the stables (Putin said de-armament and de-Nazification of Ukraine) and nothing the West can do other than talk to each other in news conferences. This will be over in a few days. The fallout, geopolitically and economically will be immense.
I suggest time to panic buy toilet paper.
No offense was taken, mr mike.
The first fool has peeped his head over the parapet and wants a) 'boots on the ground', and b) a Trudeau-esque suspension of property rights for the wrong sort of Russian person.
The veneer is as paper-thin as ever.
Bloody terrifying, gentlemen.Well, all the General Go-lightly WarMongering Fuckyou Jockstraps, Russian, British, American and NATO, are squirming with delight. It’s finally gone Tonto (What the fuck? as we sensible peaceniks say.)
What a shame that male Ukrainians are such an emotional and belligerent race. What difference is there, to the woman in the laundry, the labourer in the factory, the child in school, whether Ukraine is part of Greater Europe or Greater Russia? “What matters it, how far we go, his scaly friend replied, there is another shore you know, upon the other side. The farther off from England*, the nearer is to France*, so turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the Dance.” (*substitute countries of your choice) All this self-determination crap is just emotional claptrappery to justify the men with medals having their wars. Doesn’t matter how many mothers’ sons they kill and maim – women can just squirt out more.
Oh, they’ll be singing sad songs of their Homeland and the heroic dead into their vodka, and telling silly stories of independence and self-determination, but life as a daily lived reality just goes on, whichever power-crazed Loony-tunes is in charge. You see where NATO’s aggressive expansion into the former USSR has got us? Bloody war. Again. Putin has told Ukraine what they should do: be neutral and demilitarised; accept the annexation of Crimea and renounce its constitutional aspiration to join NATO.
Well, why don’t they? Why plunge the world into bloodshed, terror, fear and atrocity in pursuit of some fuckedup dream of becoming a western NATO country – which just exchanges one economic disaster for another. Why not just stay nice and neutral and demilitarised? They’ll get better healthcare and education as Russia’s chum rather than America’s puppet.
The propaganda is churning out now, demonising Putin, Russia and its military goals. We will learn very soon, that the Russians eat babies. So we'll have to go to war.
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