Well Done, George

mr ishmael would not have been acclaiming  George Galloway's win in the Rochdale by-election with a majority of 5,697 - a win only made possible by the Labour Party having withdrawn their anti-semitic candidate, Azhar Ali, after his social media remarks placed him beyond the pale, even for Labour. Galloway graciously marked his victory by stating:  “Keir Starmer and Rishi Sunak are two cheeks of the same backside and they both got well and truly spanked tonight.” So the people of Rochdale are now represented in Parliament by a narcissistic opportunist, described by  The Board of Deputies of British Jews as: "a demagogue and conspiracy theorist, who has brought the politics of division and hate to every place he has ever stood for Parliament. His election is a dark day for the Jewish community in this country, and for British politics in general. We believe he should be shunned as a pariah by all Parliamentarians.”  Sounds about right.  

mr ishmael wrote extensively about Gorgeous George, now known as Gaza George. Here's a couple of his pieces:

Juden Raus* 10/08/2014

* Juden Raus! (lit. "Jews Out!") is a board game published in Germany by Günther & Co. in 1936.The game was advertised as "entertaining, instructive and solidly constructed". The game's equipment included a pair of dice, a game board, and several game piece figurines with large pointed hats meant to represent Jews. Players took turns rolling the dice and moving their "Jews" across the map toward "collection points" outside the city walls for deportation to Mandatory Palestine. Written on the game board, it says "If you manage to send off six Jews, you’ve won a clear victory!"

"We don't want any Israeli goods, we don't want any Israeli services, we don't want any Israeli academics coming to the university or the college, we don't even want any Israeli tourists to come to Bradford, even if any of them had thought of doing so." 
 The not so gorgeous, angry old man, reported in the Guardian.

Been hoping for someone to speak-out against Zion-uber-alles, just wish it hadn't been Galloway. 

I never knew which was the dumber electorate, Blunkett's Sheffield or Mandelstein's Hartlepool, both could usefully be drowned in the North Sea,  they wouldn't know the difference between being wet or dry,  dead or alive. Now, there is a similarly backward and gullible electorate in Bradford West and to demonstrate that stupidity is a multi-cultural affliction this one consists mainly of the religionists of peace and of daily renewed grievance who now have their very own rabble-rousing,  jive-talking poltroon, theologian, political scientist, teevee personality, the multi-talented, multi-married and multi-salaried, dictator-worshipping old fart, ladeezangennulmen, 

one of Marxism's richest men,  George SeeYouJimmy Galloway.

Galloway, with breathtaking conceit, has recently played his own No Jews card, although he spells it No Israelis for, let's face it, there is but one God, whichever one Georgie claims to believe in at any time in his lucrative career as a paid gabshite, raconteur, didact, poseur and Big Brother housemate;

his constituency, he thunders in his best panto-prophet-voice, is now Israeli Free, 

No Jews here.
Juden Raus.

no-one is permitted to eat anchovies or pomegranates, so there, or grapefruits, see, Tony Blair, God damn you, God damn you, Tony Blair, beat that for statesmanship. 

No grapefruit. See that? No grapefruit? 

  Jews will be turned  back at the Galloway Line - Bradford West's border with sanity; Morecambe and Wise will be banned from Bradford TeeVee and Saturday will be removed from the Bradford West week.

Bradford, indeed, the whole of Yorkshire,
is now twinned with Gaza
and I now declare the holy Republic of Georgistan

Peace and blessings be upon my name.

A profound and hard-hitting package of measures to wotsaname the Jews, sort 'em out, that's it, teach them a few Islamo-socialist-Glasgow-OldLabour-NewMotherRussia home truths.  Whatever it takes, people can pay me to do it for them. I am the way, the truth and the light. So help me God. Whoops, wrong book, wrong religion. Never mind, 'sall bollocks, really; you don't think I believe in this mumbo-fucking-jumbo, do you? Nah, girl's gotta make a living, don't she?


Idiot, shitbrained fuckwit, who elected this cunt, dressed up like one of Ali Babi's forty thieves? 

Don't they see how racist this all this? Some belligerent, snuffler-bearded Weegie, acting-out a Lawrence of Arabia fantasy, don't they see they are all just extras, spear-carriers in The Revolutionary Life of George, don't they see that he and his coke-sniffing mate, 

Aye, hoosabootye, big man?
Ach, cannae grumble, George, cannae grumble.
A few whoors, some coke, could be worse. 
Hoosabootyerself?
Och, 'sno sae bad, them nignogs, y'see them, they fair luv me, so they do. D'ye want fer me t'see if  some a they other Muslim places'd stand yous, fer their MP, like, d'ye ken?

  Tearful Tommy Sheridan has destroyed the Left in Scotland and has nowhere to go but amongst those whom he can still dazzle and bamboozle with bogus, shitty oratory.  Christ, he can't even make a marriage last, never mind make a constituency flourish. All he can sing is the Discord Blues, it's the only song he knows.

Galloway, anyway, is, on the face of it, an entirely unsuitable representative of his largely Muslim constituency;  another bloated cockwaver, a preposterous, greedy  egomaniac as vain and shallow and untrustworty an infidel as one might find anywhere and although he has participated in three apparently  muslim marriages, two of which have failed,  George coyly declines to confirm or deny his conversion to Islam.  Why is that? At a time when anti-Muslim rhetoric has never been so well-nourished, why does he not make this simple clarification, it is a reasonable enough question, like asking, is Blair a Christian?

Like Boris Johnson, most of Galloway's earnings will come from outside parliament, two cheeks of the same gabshiteing, money-grubbing arse, as he might say himself, were he not head and shoulders up his own scabby arse - newspaper columns, his contemptible and risible appearances on the lewd and vulgar Big Brother Show, nothing very Islamic in that cesspit and recently as a Kremlin stooge on Russia Today.  Nothing wrong with Russia Today, per se, I watch some of it with interest, some of it is great, but it is a Putin mouthpiece, yes, that Putin, slayer of Muslim separatists, foe of Islam, generally.  I don't know that there's much to choose between Putin and Obama, save that Putin has a foreign secretary who can speak fluent English and Obama hasn't.  But both are happy to torture and murder adherents of Islam, at the drop of a hat; why is it not only OK but also seemingly part of a wider Dialectic of Muslim Liberation for  Galloway to work for the ace wogbasher, Putin?  Maybe because there's money in it, more than the average Respect voter could dream of. 

 I don't see much of him but every time I do he's dressed in ever more eccentric and expensive threads, 

elaborate permutations of beard and whiskers, resembling something half-man, half-tart, half-pasha, half money-lender;  all this old man image-burnishing must cost a fortune 

It's him, from the Galloway Spring collection.
Silly old cunt.

and if he can't wring it out of his parliamentary expenses then maybe RT will stump up for some of it, top class entertainers like Galloway don't come cheap, after all, and as a last resort, Georgie can always send some of his minders around the mosques, very charitable people, Muslims. Meantime, though, he sits in the RT studio like some bloated, farting old sultan, accompanied by a young exotic-looking lady,  underlinging, subordinately doing  his masterly bidding. Man's an utter cunt, his politics in the ditch, a flyblown mess of corruption, he reinvents his mission as often as he re-trims his beard, you wouldn't buy a fish supper from him, would you, much less a political agenda?  He reminds me, always, of that other Labour traitor-turned-hack, His Socialist Grace the Lord Roy Hatterjee, Baron of Sparkbrook. 

Of course, he slobbered, of course, I am only going to the House of Lords for the truly scrumptious free  dinners and the fine free wine list and the three hundred pounds a day pocket money and of course, I almost forgot, to abolish the place.  

Well, yes, it may well be the case that my Sparkhill constituency was, as one judge said, electorally the sort of place which would disgrace a banana republic but I was only the elected MP for twenty years, what's all that got to do with me?   What's that?  Yes, I will take more foie gras, just a small second helping, no, no, man, not that small.  Don't you know who I am?  I used to be half of the Dream Ticket. Yes, me and Neil Kinnock.  Yes, that's him, useless Welsh git and thieving bastard. Yes, him and his Mrs. Europe? Yes, made a fortune, they did. No, no, was never asked......damn shame, really, understand they have some rather fine restaurants.

Georgie would have you believe that, given the chance he'd be like Samson, heaving at the pillars of MediaMinster, in order to bring it crashing down,  that's the only reason he's there.  Never fails, that one.

  It's not funny, though, this arse, prancing about, gabshiteing, like he was personally related to Mohamed, peace and blessings be upon his name.  It's the easiest thing in the world to denigrate Tony Blair, probably just as easy to bamboozle big-hair, white-teeth bought-and-paid for Senators but Galloway's bizarre position as an MP for Muslims stinks a bit of racism, doesn't it?  Me your white brother, me can speak whiteman language in house of big white chiefs.  If his is a Muslim constituency why doesn't it have a Muslim MP,  why doesn't he work towards that end? Because  there's no fucking Georgemoney in it,  that's why. And it's the same as that old Tory argument about women, No, no, no old chap, you have it entirely wrong, we select purely on merit and not on any airy-fairy notions of a representative legislature.  George Galloway, the most meritorious Muslim-or-not in   West Bradford, eh, God fucking help us all.

Of course Georgieboy will argue that Bradford is seventy per cent white British  and that he therefore has a multicultural mandate but the psephological truth  is far from that. Of the fifty per cent who voted, the majority were young muslims.  All are agreed that he swung his massive by-election swing after targeting young Muslims,  rightly fed-up with the corrupt practices of their Labour-voting fathers and uncles - Gosh, if only Glasgow could see that particular light - and by  denigrating British foreign policy, well, the anti Muslim part of it.

Galloway  is four times married, bless,  these women, what are they like, eh, wedded to the best thing since Allah and they still won't do as they're told. Galloway is a career politician, having switched constituencies several times, been thrown out of NewLabour, formed his own one-man party, a la Mr Farage, and has been on the public purse and at the public trough since 1987.  Where, once, in true JockLabour style,  he told his voters that their continued poverty and ill health could only be remedied by voting Labour for another hundred years, he now tells Muslims that he, uniquely, will recalibrate the measure of the Middle East, of South Asia, of MediaMinster and of Washington DC, when, in fact, as the dogs in the street know, Galloway is MediaMinster; blowhard, emotional traincrash, bully, hypocrite, TeeVee slag and parasite, this rotten, shouty old  ponce  could be its mascot. He did nothing for Glasgow but plenty for himself, he did nothing for Tower Hamlets but plenty for himself, he will do nothing for Bradford West, claiming, like the revolting Gordon Snot, that his invisibility in parliament is actually a demonstration of great principle, his absence due to him writing literally thousands of letters on behalf of his constituents; even though he always claims the maximum in office and admin. expenses, I suppose that George, hommes des lettres, author, commentator, wit, philosopher and cultural historian - he really, really values John Lennon's odious, hypocritical dirge, Imagine, considers it part of his credo - George just has to be there, to make sure the right postage is paid on all the letters to dustbin departments, street lighting executives and passenger transport operatives and that, Whoops, genuine mistake, some entranced, junior Georgite doesn't submit an expenses claim for her master's Christmas cards, not that he's a Christian, or anything, and that's why he can't appear in Parliament, got far more important things to do, licking envelopes - although it is remarkable that his epic  of correspondence doesn't keep him from the RT studios, where, unlike the situation within his real employment - as a member of the legislature - he actually does have to turn up in order to be paid. 

I suppose that ultimately Galloway is Blair's creature. Unlike many of the left-leaning - me, for instance -  Galloway, in voting for himself, voted for Blair to form that government which he now decries, upon which he bases his whole act.  If Blair had given him a ministry, made him a right honourable - and don't forget they stay right honourables, it is a mealticket for life - things would have been very different.  Let's face it, Blair gave Tony Banks a ministry and he was far more disloyal and naughty than George had ever been.  He could have given George Overseas Aid or Fishing, something that not even he could have fucked up.  And George  would've swiftly become accustomed to being limousined and Yes, Ministered, like the scabby phoney he is; he'd have loved all that bowing and scraping, people kissing his arse; he'd have loved the salary,  the pension, when it came and the directorships.  Just look at John Reid, fellow Glaswegian Marxist-Trotskyist-Leninist, fellow personal fuck-up, fellow thug, bully and gabshite, blatantly unsuited for ministerial responsibility and yet he did them all - only for about a fortnight, granted, staggeringly incompetent but now wee Lord John is coining millions in retirement.  If only Blair had appointed Galloway,  the nation would have been spared his noisy hysterics-for-money and perhaps the people of Bradford West might - just might - have a member representing their interests instead of his own.

At least, though, unlike the rest of MediaMinster, George remains uncontaminated by recent disclosures.

Showbiz celebrities embrace, bless.

 Who Owns the Street? 30th August 2014

A punch in the face is no laughing matter. Showbusiness, of course, depicts people being drop-kicked and pistol-whipped, smashed full in the face with a nailed boot, yet laughing and grinning ruefully, just  a few moments later. The older I grow the more these enactments frustrate me;  the human body is, no other word for it, a miracle, its powers of reconstitution and repair beyond the wildest imaginings of technology;  to kick it about and wound it deliberately seems wanton and stupid; 

 to invite violence on oneself is not the conduct of a wise man, for it begets itself, time and again and hurts others; it is the soft words, rather than the vain, gabshite grandstanding, which turn away Wrath.

That the disgusting old whore, Galloway, should be struck, while posing for pictures is a bitter-sweet irony which will be lost on him;  that there is at least one person in the UK unenthralled by his shouty, undiscerning celebrity he can probably live with but even that fact will chafe a little  at our great people's champion and poseur.  It will be interesting to see if, as it should, this episode knocks Georgie off the plinth of his own vanity or if it becomes embellished the more  with the facetious mythology of his unending struggle for the creation of a (now) Islamo-Socialist Republic On Earth.

A spiritual Native American, I never permit my photograph to be taken, believing, like them, that it amounts to theft of the soul.  That Galloway cannot live without his image being endlessly cosmeticised,  tailored and widely reproduced, this alone bespeaks his unworthiness.