THAT'S ANOTHER YEAR UP THE JUDGE'S ARSE,
as the Lifers say.
There you are, banged up, with some dodgy stranger, your every bodily noise witnessed, and not by an indulgent lover - for fuck's sake, but by someone who will inflict serious harm unless you can sweet-talk him into momentary acceptance. When the night cramps and the night lusts strike in a little room 13 foot by 7 foot by 9 foot high, you'd better be shit hot at talking. And you'd better forget about sex and drugs and rock n'roll.
HM Prison Birmingham, known locally as Winson Green, was built between 1845 and 1849 in the west of Birmingham. Initially the Birmingham Borough Gaol, it had in total 321 cells for men, woman and juveniles. Now housing more than a thousand male prisoners, it was designed on the “Panopticon” principle by Birmingham architect Daniel Rowlinson Hill, with four wings radiating from a central rotunda. The main gate was designed to resemble a castle.
It opened on the 29th of October 1849 and its first governor was George Glossop who was rapidly succeeded by Captain Alexander Maconochie. He experimented with various prison reform ideas before he was sacked in 1851 for being too lenient.
We're not talking TVs, mobiles and laptops.
It now looks like this
Well, they shoulda thought of that before they did whatever they did.
Shouldn't we all?
If only we could link consequences to actions. If only we could avoid the I'll get away with that thinking. If we could be charismatic, beautiful, charming, wealthy....
Anyway, that's another year up the Judge's Arse. Another year of being played and played....
Here's how it goes, the ecumenical year for the Brendas and Eddies:January/ February: doleful, dietary, eat out of the freezer
Easter - Buy and eat chocolate
Summer - Holiday, holiday
Autumn - Guy Fawkes, Hallowe'en
Fucking Christmas again
And around and around we go.
We're supposed to do reflecting on 2022. I could give you snapshots of the year in politics - dear Boris, mad Liz, utterly scary Richy, but the msm have given you that. We could shake our heads about identity politics, about the end of freedom of expression and the whole AnimalFarmery of it all, about the risible clapping for the NHS coupled with the contempt for workers whose wages fall way beneath inflation, of Richy's solution for industrial unrest being further restriction of the right to strike - but it really doesn't matter.
This is what matters.
How are you on Pacifism? Willing to be locked up for it? Ready for that small cell in Winson Green? Fuck's sake, I'm hardly brave enough to speak up at a Dinner Party.
No, mrs ishmael, if the Germans were invading Britain, wouldn't you fight for your patch of land?
Well, I'd hope the law would protect my title.
No, the soldiery'd be busy raping your daughters and drinking your single malts. Wouldn't you die in defence of your country?
Well, if I was dead, I couldn't defend anything.
Wouldn't you fight and kill to keep what is yours?
Well, I don't think killing is acceptable. I'd give someone a slap, no bother, but killing is a whole step up. One person would be unfucking believable, but 25 is really beyond belief. Someone I know, ordinary person, like, ordinary husband, bloke in his fifties, goes to the supermarket, caught short, goes to the toilet, sitting in the cubicle, when some kids come in, largeing it, banging on the doors, piss on his shoes for a laugh, like, he comes out, says which of you punks did that? And they object to that. The 14 year old slices into him with a knife from his mum's kitchen drawer. Lucky strike, straight into the heart, through skin, fat, past ribs, into the heart. You don't know you've had your death blow, hold your chest, blood coming through your fingers, say no, I'm not good, and die. On the supermarket floor. Just meant to get a bottle of wine and a light bulb. Wife at home thinking where is he? Didn't he swear he'd come straight home? Glass of wine and a little endoftheweekpassion? What's that car outside?
No, really, mrs ishmael, say Germany invades England.
Not likely, really, not these days. They gave up that ambition in 1945. No, it's more like Scotland and England.
What?
Scotland secedes from the United Kingdom. There's all these pillocks - like you, like me, high and dry, English, came to Scotland to make better life, tide went out, suddenly Scotland isn't part of Britain any more. This English rump, bum, disenfranchised GoodLifers, high and dry in a Scotland that always regarded them as braying, over-privileged fuckers that have dinner parties, for fuck's sake, rather than popping round for tea. Hey, we don't want them in our jobs, voting for our politicians, squatting in our best housing, best round them up for their own safety. And England, aware that their nannas and uncles on the oil rigs are having a tough time, square up to Gnasher Sturgeon and say Hey, Let my people go.
No, mrs ishmael, you're off your head. We're talking Russia, here. It's like Satan. Bad, Evil. Orcs and stuff.
So. Pacifism. It's like Vegetarianism. I couldn't kill the animals but I'll sure as hell eat them, sliced up and in a little plastic tray from the supermarket and make it large like this is organic shit, the beast had a perfect life and just loved us until we snuck up and fucking sliced its throat and it has been braised in good olive oil (not crap olive oil) and good red wine ( yeah, not crap etc). The ultimate hypocrisy is little Harris being encouraged to eat less favoured animals - come on, darling, here's a little organic chicken with a soupcon of wild salmon, come on, baby, eat for mommy, cos mommy loves you. You need to keep your strength up.
Some people we kill. Some people we eat. Some people we kill and feed to people we love. But, hey, we hate Russians, right?
Oh, for fuck's sake. That's your round-up for 2022. I'm thinking of starting my own religion. Do what thou wilt, shall be the whole of the law. Or what you can get away with. Oh, no, that's taken. How about this?
Or this?
17 comments:
Mrs I: I'm pleased to hear its not just my 2 pugs (Mr Pug now has a younger companion, Ms Pug) who like organic chicken and wild poached salmon - now I am relaxed they aren't being spoiled. But I take your general point.
I'm off on a Camino at the end of april - Camino del Norte. Its the last recognised Camino route to Santiago I haven't walked. I had a dream the other night: I was robbed of everything in darkest rural Spain. Everything; money, passport, phone, even clothes. Stark bollock naked alone in the wild. The dilemma was do I meekly submit hoping to avoid harm, or fight. In my dream I fought like a thing possessed, to inflict maximum damage. I think it was the thought of being left not just stranded but naked that tipped me over the edge. My inner primate. Fortunately I woke up all sweaty before the final act. Who knows how we would act when pushed to the limit?
auto-immune haemolytic anaemia is a recognized and reported adverse reaction to the mrna coronavirus-vaccination:
don't die of ignorance: tell the nhs to shove its mrna-vaccination where the sun don't shine
yahoo news has published a most interesting article on the so-called 'paxlovid rebound':
“paxlovid rebound,” as it’s known, received a lot of media attention when president biden and first lady jill biden, as well as drs. anthony fauci and rochelle walensky, director of the centers for disease control and prevention, all experienced it last year after taking the medication...
...paxlovid is an oral antiviral pill that can be prescribed to people who come down with covid-19 and are at risk for developing severe disease. this can be individuals who are unvaccinated, the elderly or people with other medical conditions, such as cancer or diabetes.
so are we then to take it that joe 'n jill jab'em, dr faustus, and dr richpill walensky have all not been vaccinated against the dreaded corona-lurgi...?
uk to send challenger-2 tanks to confront nurses
neo-imperialist news
meghan and harry offer threesomes to ukrainian nazis in bid to boost frontline-morale and turn back tide of russian imperialism
Welcome back, mr ultrapox - been off sick, have you? Me, too.
Another Camino, mr mike? How splendid. Can we ask for a traveller's tale from you, and photos?
thanks for sorting out the strangely disappeared comments, mrs ishmael: unlike boris bio-weapon's bonking-mad downing street administration and our intrepid anti-monarchist - yet still staunchly neo-imperialist - zebra-couple in sunny california, the straight-laced spam-filter just doesn't seem to be into threesomes.
i'm sorry to hear about your sickness, and wish you a speedy recovery.
in my case, i haven't been sick as such - except with that flu-like bug which was doing-the-rounds over christmas; no, mrs ishmael, i had to spend a month, or so, concentrating upon eating and sleeping sufficiently, in order to help myself recuperate from unfortunate extant health-issues of which i have previously apprised you ad infinitum - and in fact it's rather the sickness of other folks which has been absorbing my inexpert medical attention.
good luck with completing the camino-hike, mr mike, and heed well the subconscious messages imparted via your kafkaesque dreams - for life sure can prove dangerous in them there foreign parts...
take for example a recent trip i made into the woolly windy wilds of the welsh riviera, during which i happened upon a labour-oriented local lad who insisted, without the slightest hint of irony, or apology, upon back-justifying st tony the baptist's illegal, and immoral, invasion of iraq, on account, apparently, of the 'homeland' it has accidentally carved out for the kurdish people – an ethnic group who, after all, were so beloved of georgie bushwhacker senior, cannibal clinton of the congo, george dubya bushwhacker, and bazza obomba that it was never provided with the means by which to defend itself, and was genocidally gassed in halabja by cia-backed saddam, all thanks to the export of us chemical weapons sanctioned by dear old ronnie raygun's rogue-republicans.
disturbingly, dr kelly's suspicious death remains a mere statistic to new labour war-mongers, one must imagine.
anyhow, once safely back home in london, i mentioned this chilling visitation, by a neo-con cheerleading spectre, to some rasta-acquaintances of mine: a couple of the crew politely enquired whether welsh people perhaps still resided up trees, or in caves devoid of internet-access, whilst the remaining brothers appeared double-keen to travel directly down to the land of green green grass to procure whatever the brythonic brethren were smoking...
however, to be fair to the welsh, it should herewith be noted that the afore-mentioned new labour apologist was hard-core - labour - establishment, and not a common-or-garden grass-roots leftie.
errm...so for what brand spanking new neo-imperialist war of mass-destruction is sir keir storm-trooper pencilled-in, one wonders?
On form, mr ultrapox - I see your regime of eating, sleeping and visiting the Welsh has done you a world of good.
As for Sir Keir - he'll do whatever he's told by our masters. Have you read J.K. Rowling? Transgressive literature, now, it seems. She describes how new prime Ministers are inducted into what is really going on. First evening in Downing Street, after all the victory partying, a strangely dressed bloke steps out of the fireplace amid smoke,soot and a whiff of sulphur and lays it all out.
thanks for the encouragement, mrs ishmael.
wasn't “blonde bombshell” rowling that awful blair-groupie who was so hideously popular in the era of political correctness, but as high-church irony would have it, is now getting roundly spit-roasted by the über-progressives in the ladies loo?
such a terrible shame, an' all that.
still, i suppose worse things happened in baghdad...
no, i have not read any potter - being a bit too old when the spoilt little brat was conjured-up out of a kerchinging new labour cash-till. actually, it was the colonially and unconsciously biased enid blyton, aided by her famished famous five, who taught me to read.
oh please, mrs ishmael, desist from summoning up these noxious neo-imperialist ghouls from illegal interventions-past, for these die-hard new labour nazis really give me the fucking creeps...
indeed, all this retro-adoration of blair and his celebrity brown-shirts rather reminds me of those unfortunate japanese soldiers who, thirty years after the american micro-waving of hiroshima, used to be discovered, all alone on remote pacific islands, still resolutely defending their positions in hides they'd constructed up palm-trees.
desperate dave lammy, yvette stuka, baroness angela schmidt, ed sillibrand, kommandant healey et al...
fucking tragic really
...and what good's dave lammy gonna be in the fight against russia? i mean, let's face facts, the cunt's far too fat to fit in a ukrainian fox-hole.
in the covid-era, mrs ishmael, the welsh government has become more repressive and ideological than that of saudi arabia; in fact, in remoter regions of the country, the covid-cult is now so fanatically established, and fear of the disease so deeply entrenched in the local psyche, that the infected and unvaccinated are ritually shunned in a manner evocative of movie-scenes from the wicker man...
however, given the dysfunctional state of the nhs, and decimation of the education-system, which one inevitably encounters once west of offa's iron-curtain, then this severely adverse reaction to a statistically fabricated pandemic, along with an irrational faith placed in a vaccine granted emergency-approval - despite the existence of no actual emergency - is, i suppose, almost forgivable.
how the welsh got their curls
of course, even as a confirmed anglo-saxon, i will always harbour a soft spot, and the most profound respect, for my cantillating cambrian cousins - essentially due to their undisputed status as the indigenous tribespeople of these great brittonic isles.
indeed, it is a little known fact that the original settlement of this our home-turf by brythonic homo sapiens immigrants, circa 44000 years ago, was pretty much contemporaneous with the colonization of the australian continent by aboriginal folks - who as a consequence of rising sea-levels, subsequently experienced genetic isolation from the rest-of-the-world – and thus when we gaze upon indigenous australians, we are also gifted with an anthropological snapshot of indigenous britons, as they appeared 44000 years previously...
ipso facto the original welshman was a blackfella.
now, according to wikipedia:
“the english words 'wales' and 'welsh' derive from the same old english root - singular wealh, plural wēalas - a descendant of proto-germanic *walhaz, which was itself derived from the name of the gaulish people known to the romans as volcae and which came to refer indiscriminately to inhabitants of the western roman empire. the old english-speaking anglo-saxons came to use the term to refer to the britons in particular; the plural form wēalas evolved into the name for their territory, wales. the modern names for various romance-speaking people in continental europe (e.g. wallonia, wallachia, valais, vlachs, the german welsch, and włochy, the polish name for italy) have a similar etymology.”
and so in nutshell, the anglo-saxons and romans always viewed the welsh as 'wogs', or 'other', probably on account of the indigenous - welsh - britons, during roman times, still possessing a darker skin-tone and distinctively curly hair.
now, if you have difficulty reconciling the modern welshman's appearance with that of his 44000 year old brythonic ancestor, this is because, roughly 3000 years ago, historic hanky-panky with the immigrant irish celts – who were actually pale-skinned migrant kurds – turned the black welshman white.
No, really?
Thanks, mr ultrapox
yep, no word of a lie, mrs ishmael: i read all about it in the daily mail and other rags a few years back - following publication of comprehensive genetic research into the dna of british and irish populations.
as i recall, the most interesting conclusions drawn from this study were as follows:
1) the so-called celtic peoples of the uk and ireland do not share homogeneous pre-historic dna.
2) the irish originated from the pontic steppe.
3) the roman, norman, and viking invasions did not leave particularly significant traces in the british dna-record - only in our language and culture.
4) the welsh were the earliest inhabitants of the uk - and therefore constitute the true indigenous britons.
and i therefore conclude that the welsh woz 'ere first, and were sorta well err...fuzzy-wuzzies.
i mean, take for example cheddar man, a dark-skinned curly-haired western hunter-gatherer who lived about 10000 years ago, and whose skeleton was dug up in gough's cave, cheddar gorge – complete with watermelon smile, a pile of discarded chicken-bones, a ghetto-blaster, and a huge fuck-off spear...
or perhaps ken, the dark-skinned curly haired western hunter-gatherer who lived about 14000 years ago, and whose bone was discovered in kendrick's cave, llandudno:
wouldn't, today, these guys be regarded as 'black'?
now, i admit to getting the dates and details a little wrong regarding the immigration-wave of light-skinned neolithic farmers from the near east, who in fact entered britain around 6000 years ago, and were not substantially connected with the modern irish - the irish originally descending from light-skinned pastoralists, who migrated to britain from the pontic steppe just over 4000 years ago...
and as an amateur delver, i also confess to a certain amount of enthusiastic conjecture and extrapolation...
however - despite wikipedia's contradictory entries on european pre-history comprising almost as much a pickle as the human-genome – i can hereby state, with some simplistic authority, that the early european modern humans – or cro-magnons – who populated britain from before the start of the last glacial maximum – 33000 years ago – were darkies, and that the western hunter gatherers, such as cheddar man and ken, who began to populate britain from the end of the last glacial maximum – about 15000 years ago - possessed dark curly, or wavy hair, and dark-to-black skin.
ultimately, of course, it was the early european farmers from anatolia – about 6000 years ago - and then the western steppe herders from the pontic steppe – just over 4000 years ago – who, in an uninvited double-whammy influx, turned the black british population white, the dirty rotten bastards...
so ok, yeah: no wonder we don't fucking trust immigrants.
Every day's a school day, mr ultrapox - fascinating stuff. I've kind of been aware that the Welsh have curls - but never thought it through. There's something funny about the ginger gene as well, I seem to recall.
I am your Hamlet of the night. Far too much booze in imagined elysium. My heart, as always x
Booze careful in that good night, good my lord.
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