|seeds in their apple pentagram
- Fix the price of stuff
- Fix the price of wages
- Reduce taxation so that people have more money to buy stuff, thus stimulating the people that make stuff into making more stuff, so that there's more stuff than money.
- Increase taxation, so that people can't afford to buy anything with their money and close your ears to cry from the street - after all, if they want to eat they should marry a billionaire wife with non-dom status.
- Ignore it all and let the Bank of England sort it out. And say, look, it's not my fault.
- Print more money - after all, it's only an idea - and give everybody a wheelbarrow to transport their cash to buy a loaf of bread.
|Poppies and borage
|yellow loosestrife and cultivated thistles.
Think different is shit.
I go to sleep at night - when I go to sleep at all - worrying about a chap in a TeeVee commercial. He's not very bright and he has a demanding daughter, you know the type, the country's plagued with the little bastards, gotta have a gap year, le grand tour de nos jours, before she goes to Uni.
But I suppose the gap-year brat is just an extension of Thatcher's property-owning democracy bollocks, in which people shackle themselves to a tiny, rudely built and unimaginably over-valued house, one they can only afford by both of them working their arses off, and then when it's paid for, selling it to pay for social care - to be bullied and abused, pinched and prodded, wrongly medicated and left in piss-soaked bedding by very welcome, culturally enhancing and totally necessary Polish immigrants, without whom we simply cannot do, the fucking horrible bastards, smirking that they've come here to make better life, no; and so everybody bend over or get out of their way. Why don't they stay and make better life in fucking Poland, eh? Why not make Poland better place. Making better place was what Britons did, after the Hitler war, fought on behalf of Poles and French and Dutch and countless others, all now berating Brits for their temerity in wanting to leave Greater Germany.
Scottish catering is full of them, Poles, and everywhere you go in hotels and restaurants there're little saucers with pound coins in them, so's we can help these horrible fuckers make better life by giving them free money, as well as free health care and education. Oh, but mr ishmael, they work so hard. No, they fucking don't, they just say they do; they can't even speak English most of them, and they make that your fault, you should learn Polish to help Magda make better life. I knew a Magda, in social care, she was a liar, a cheat, an incompetent, a right monster, hostile, belligerent; a bully, untrainable, every constructive suggestion eschewed as being inspired only by racism - is because I am Pole, that you criticise.
I already have an i-Pad, one with no apps, and I am continuously receiving billing enquiries, threats to cut me off because I don't use the AppStore. I really do believe that Apple and Facebook and Twitter are an insidious consumer tyranny, le totalitairianisme consumeriste nouvelle. That the TeeVee is used to define good parenting as the gifting to non-productive children of Apple's current model is not only wicked in itself but is a slap in the face - another one - for the majority of parents, who are unable to spend so extravagantly.
Aspirational, it was one of Cameron's favourite words, him, the one with the family money, or some of it, in an offshore tax haven, he loved to describe the voters as Aspirational, meaning poor and stupid, believing that they, too, can be filthy rich, even though the number of rich people has to be strictly limited, otherwise what's the point of it, there have to be far more poor people than rich people, otherwise the rich people cease being special and become almost like poor people, only with money, and what would be the point of that? If everyone had lots of money then what would be the point of Lewis Hamilton, people'd think he was a fucking lunatic, he's got loads of money and here he is, risking his life, driving like a nutcase, he could be roasted alive, what's the point of that? And if pretty young women were rich then why would they want to snuggle-up to a suicidal lunatic with a bizarrely stupid beard, whose greatest thrill is squirting champagne over other suicidal lunatics, only not as suicidal as him, because he's the world's champion suicidal lunatic. And as for Mutant Murray, well, if everyone had money then nobody'd go and watch him, punching himself, having Turette's Syndrome and smashing his racket to pieces, climbing into the crowd and snogging his own mother. And if everyone had money then everytime Prince Brian opened his gob he'd get a fist in it or a boot. Keeps things in proper order, it does, most of us being skint, and only a few of us being minted.
MPs still manage the impudence of second and third jobs, Michael Spit, MP, this week, working-away for Mr Murdoch, interviewing Donald Trump, and writing for the Times regularly;
|The MP for Surrey Heath attends to his constituents' interests
The reality - rather than the aspiration - is that a proper society would hound the Apple trash-people into the Thames and burn their bright, shiny shops to the ground. As it is, the Apple adverts will continue to taunt those outside the charmed circle of discretionary, disposable income, whilst its owners will continue to brazenly evade lawful taxation to which the rest of us are compelled by fear of imprisonment.
Stop me if I've mentioned this before but Apple founder and whiz-kid, Steve Jobs, was a pathetic Bob Dylan freak,
he could never get near Bob but when a chance came up to date his fellow-Californian, Joan Baez -
Dylan's cruelly humiliated former lover -
Stevie jumped at the chance.
Weird, really, but then he was.
One day billionaire Stevie said,
Hey, babe, I saw this really cool little French dress, in a couturier's over in Santa Barbara, wanna take a ride over and have a look? Baez says that she thought what any woman would think in that situation but when she did him a twirl in his recommended garment he said, Yeah, I was right, it does suit you, Joanie, you really should buy it.
Now, that's what you call Thinking Different.
If the above essay has whetted your appetite for more from the originator of Call me Ishmael, look no further than Ishmael’s Blues - which is now
published, in both paperback and hardback editions; both editions are
immediately available from lulu.com.
The paperback is also listed on amazon. Honest Not Invent and Vent
Stack, the first two books in the sequence are also available from Lulu
and Amazon. If you buy from Amazon, it would be nice if you could give a
review on their website.
Ishmaelites wishing to buy a copy from lulu should follow these steps :
The book’s full title is "Ishmael’s Blues – further Chronicles of Ruin", and the cover you'll see is red with white titles and a picture of blogdog Buster retiring from the fray, cat gloating from a safe distance. The cover is the same for both editions.
Link for Hardcover : https://tinyurl.com/je7nddfr
Link for Paperback : https://tinyurl.com/3jurrzux
At checkout, try WELCOME15 in the coupon box, which (for the moment) takes 15% off the price before postage. If this code has expired by the time you reach this point, try a google search for "Lulu.com voucher code" and see what comes up.
|Don't Leave Us This Way.