The Sunday Ishmael: 07/12/2025

 Scotland is very worried because it has the flu. Not quite the usual flu, but a mutated variant of the H3N2 virus, which is known for causing more severe illness, particularly among older adults. The situation has led to restrictions on visiting hospital wards, returning to wearing face masks, hand washing and urging the public to have the vaccination. Public Health Scotland reported that in the week of 24-30 November, lab-confirmed cases rose to 1,759 compared with 845 the previous week. Hospital admissions as a result of the illness also rose by 70%, from 426 to 724.

This is Neil Charles Gray (born 16 March 1986), Cabinet Secretary for Health and Social Care. A member of the Scottish National Party (SNP), he has been the Member of the Scottish Parliament (MSP) for Airdrie & Shotts since 2021. Interviewed on the Scottish politics shows this morning, he was suitably lugubrious, given his "you will all die" message, but warmed up when the interviewer mentioned Scotland's summer of sport, becoming very excited indeed. "I'm very excited" he said. 

It seems that Scotland, contrary to past performance, has won some football matches. Now, you know that I don't do football, at all, especially Scottish football, where the boisterous booziness of the fans outclasses the tedium on the pitch, but Scotland's World Cup 2026 certainly excites Neil Gray: Scotland will play Haiti, Morocco, and Brazil in the World Cup group stage, in Boston and Miami, kicking off on June 13, 2026, and concluding on June 24, 2026. 

Then there's the Commonwealth Games, being held in Glasgow from July 23 to August 2, 2026, with 74 nations and territories competing in 10 sports and six Para sports including Para Powerlifting. 

Can't wait.

Not least is the inaugural Nations Championship, with  Scotland competing against Argentina, South Africa, and Fiji in July 2026, and culminating with matches against New Zealand, Australia, and Japan in November 2026. 

Yum.

Never mind the bloody flu, eh? 

The oaf, Gray, is an Orkney lad, born and brought up here and educated at Kirkwall Grammar School. Please don't run away with the idea that the name "Grammar School" is an indicator of excellence, it is simply the state secondary school attended by children living in one half of Orkney and the isles. Stromness Academy takes the rest of the kids. "Academy", equally, is meaningless. Following Kirkwall Grammar, the oaf Gray went on to gain a B.A. in Politics and Journalism from Stirling University. He was selected to stand as the SNP candidate in Airdrie and Schotts, amid the usual SNP nonsense - one chap, SNP Councillor Alan Beveridge, resigned from the party in February 2015 after Neil Gray was selected, claiming that there was a "climate of fear, intimidation and false allegations within the party". Sounds about right for the SNP. Just as a sidebar, a degree in Scotland takes four years to achieve, the vaunted Scottish Highers being in no way equivalent in length or academic calibre to A levels, so the first year of degree studies covers A level ground. It's ok, though, Scottish tuition is free, on account of Scotland being progressive and its broad-shouldered citizens bearing higher tax burdens than in England, thusly: 

the basic rate is 19% levied on incomes up to £27,850; 

20% on income between £27,851 and £43,662 and 

41% on income between £43,663 and £150,000.  

Should you be lucky and broad-shouldered enough to earn over  £150,000, you will be taxed at 46%. 

Honest, not invent. 

Back to keen athlete, the Oaf Gray, (he buggered his knee running in the 400 metres). In November 2024, he used his official ministerial car to be chauffeured to watch four Aberdeen F.C. football matches. Gray registered the events as official government visits, on account of being Cabinet Secretary for Wellbeing Economy, Fair Work and Energy at the time. In a statement to the Scottish Parliament, he also admitted using an official car to attend five Scotland matches, saying all the engagements were "official ministerial business" and that summaries were available for all of the meetings, but apologised for not attending "a wider range of games", and for creating the impression that he was acting "more as a fan and less as a minister". The Scottish Conservatives accused Gray of having a "jolly to watch the football" at the expense of the taxpayer and called for the costs to be refunded in full, while the Scottish Greens predictably criticised him not for misusing his ministerial perks, but for not using public transport. First Minister John Swinney (SNP) told journalists that he would not refer Gray for investigation under the ministerial code, and that he considered the matter closed. Not everyone was so satisfied, however, and in January 2025, a Freedom of Information request revealed that no note was produced of  Gray's meeting at the 2023 League Cup final at Hampden Park. Gray subsequently apologised to the Scottish Parliament for making a misleading statement. John Swinney re-iterated his support for Gray and insisted that the Health Secretary had made an "inadvertent error". In June 2025, it was revealed that in 2024 Gray had also used his official ministerial car to be chauffeured to a pub before an Aberdeen F.C. match. The journeys were logged in the official ministerial register as trips to and from a "personal address, Aberdeen". These entries were amended after an investigation by the Scottish Daily Mail showed that no evidence of such an address could be found. Officials acknowledged that Gray had no home address in Aberdeen; the Scottish Government insisted there had been an "administration error", and the First Minister John Swinney said, "The ministerial car was used in accordance with the rules that have been set out within the guidance on this occasion. And those rules that are clearly and publicly advertised have been followed on this occasion."

So that's alright, then. Nothing to see here, move along, business as usual for the SNP. What did happen to that £600,000, by the way?

It hasn't done Gray's career any harm at all, of course, what with all that support by John Swinney.

Now Cabinet Secretary for Health and Social Care, Gray is responsible for handling Scotland's response to the flu epidemic, god help us. His interviewer this morning on the  politics show had a little dig - "Minister, it is well known that you are a keen football fan" - like water off a duck's back, it was.

So why should our English readers care? Maybe because Scottish football fans attending matches in England in their uncounted hordes spread Covid, urged on by Gnasher.

When Scotland sneezes, England catches a cold.

It seems that The Punditry is never tired of repeatedly telling the nation that Covid Lockdown was a generation-defining catastrophe, that children are feral and teenagers unemployable because their schools closed, that mental illness seized the nation, that men and women forgot how to get it on and that the economy will never recover. I seem to have been in a different universe - my recollection is that lockdown really didn't last very long at all, and that being sent home from work with a laptop was a delightful interruption of the daily misery. The weather in May 2020 was fabulous and the sea sparkling blue as I took my state-sanctioned daily walk, and I spoke to neighbours I'd never even noticed before, (socially distanced, of course), as we passed while walking. 

This construction of a false narrative, that by repetition becomes the new history, has been perfected by the Labour Party, who told us, with appropriate gravitas, all about the Conservative Black Hole.

You may have already come across the following - if not, enjoy:

There are four splendid anthologies of the writings of stanislav and mr ishmael, compiled by his friend, mr verge, the house filthster, at Amazon or Lulu. Here's how:

Honest Not Invent, Vent Stack, Ishmael’s Blues, and the latest, Flush Test (with a nice picture of the late, much lamented, Mr Harris of Lanarkshire taking a piss on a totem pole) are available from Lulu and Amazon. If you buy from Amazon, it would be nice if you could give a review on their website.

IIshmaelites wishing to buy a copy from lulu should follow these steps 

please register an account first, at lulu.com. This is advisable because otherwise paypal seems to think it's ok to charge in dollars, and they then apply their own conversion rate, which might put the price up slightly for a UK buyer. Once the new account is set up, follow one of the links below (to either paperback or hardback) or type "Ishmael’s Blues" into the Lulu Bookstore search box. Click on the “show explicit content” tab, give the age verification box a date of birth such as 1 January 1960, and proceed.

Link for Hardcover : https://tinyurl.com/je7nddfr

Link for Paperback : https://tinyurl.com/3jurrzux

https://www.lulu.com/shop/ishmael-smith/flush-test/paperback/product-9yjvn7.html?q=Flush+Test&page=1&pageSize=4

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.

With the 15% voucher, PB (including delivery to a UK address) should be £16.84; HB £27.04.

We'll tax that, too.

And that - nice country residence.

The Sunday Ishmael: 30/11/2025

 The rabble cheered, waved their order papers and congratulated themselves on forcing the Chancellor to bend to their will. The House was in uproar and had to be quelled on several occasions by tiny Deputy Speaker Nusrat Ghani, who had turned up as a railway ticket inspector, under the impression she was attending a fancy dress party.

Chancellor Smug sat down to the customary good patting administered on these occasions. 

Smugness and self-congratulation were rapidly beaten out of her by Kemi Badenoch, who delivered a swift rub-down with a housebrick with aplomb, perfect vowels and sisterly bitchiness, speaking woman to woman. The rinsing was so thorough I almost but not quite felt sorry for the Chancellor, with her stumbling, nasty north London diction.

In went Kemi, with her pit boots on: You're an Arse, aren't you, Chancellor?  An unmitigated horse's arse of an Arse? Yes? The House agrees that sitting opposite me is an Arse. An unprincipled, spiteful, cowardly, Arse, being wagged by Labour's backbenchers. An Arse with a deep loathing of the middle class. An Arse brownly blowing its own trumpet. An Arse with a Chip on its shoulder so deep it descends into its own arse crack. A sixth-form politics Arse waving its own poverty-stricken childhood in lieu of its over-exaggerated  Curriculum Vitae. You never were an economist at the Bank of England, were you, Arse-Woman, you never were an economist at HBOS - you ran a small administrative complaints department, sitting on your arse. You were unemployed for a year before getting elected. Aren't you a horse's lying arse of an Arse?"
Well, actually, she didn't say any of that, more's the pity.

She did rip her a new arsehole, though, saying: "People out there aren't complaining because she's female, they're complaining because she is utterly incompetent. This Budget could have saved £47billion including £23billion from welfare. She could have abolished stamp duty on homes to get the housing market moving, abolished business rates on shops to breathe life into our High Streets. She should be on the side of people who get up and go to work, people who take a risk to start a company, people working all hours to keep their business afloat, she should be on the side of the farmer trying to hand something over to the next generation, the investor deciding whether to spend their money in the UK or elsewhere."

Kemi. My hero.

It hurt. When, out of a spirit of pure mischief, the BBC invited both Rachel Reeves and Kemi Badenoch onto their Sunday morning politics show, 

Kemi looked at Rachel with amusement, while Rachel from Accounts looked anywhere but at her. She complained that she had been made 'uncomfortable' by the Opposition Leader's brutal attacks on the Budget in the Commons, and whined that she doesn't make personal attacks on people and she didn't like it. To which Kemi robustly said: 'my job is to hold the Government to account, not to provide emotional support for the Chancellor'.

I must admit I have skin in this particular game. I had hoped for a little something to stimulate the housing market, as I nourish a small ambition to downsize. Cancellation, or, at least, reduction,  in stamp duty, would, like a Prune and Laxido Smoothie, get things moving again, free up big houses so middling house owners can move up, sell their little houses to aspirant home owners, create work for estate agents, lawyers, removal firms, carpet manufacturers and layers, paint and wallpaper retailers and decorators, new kitchen and bathroom manufacturers and installers, curtain and blind makers and all the rest of them. Overseas readers will be astonished to learn that, in addition to having to find a deposit of 10% of the purchase price, a mortgage at 4.5% interest which will beggar you unto death and beyond, the British house buyer has to pay a tax on the purchase price of the house, currently sitting at £15,500 on a £510,000 house or £41,000 if you are buying it as a second home. That's going to make you sit and have a little think. No wonder Big Ange Rayner did that soft shoe shuffle to claim she was not buying her Brighton flat as a second home. Maybe that small debacle which lost the Ginger Growler her Cabinet position is the reason Rachel from Accounts felt unable to stir up that particular hornet's nest again.

Instead, of course, she bowed to the pressure of the anti-welfare cuts back benchers and delivered a true tax and spend traditional Labour budget. 

The most controversial aspect has been the removal of the two-child cap on benefits payments. For our overseas readers and those who prefer not to pay attention, in Britain, if you are unemployed, or are employed but on low wages, the state will step in and give you a welfare payment called Universal Credit. This benefit is intended to keep the wolf from the door by a calculation based on a standard allowance with additional elements for specific circumstances, and deductions based on income. These circumstances include an additional amount for each child you have, up to a limit of two children. The total Universal Credit amount is reduced based on your income. For every £1 you earn over your work allowance, your Universal Credit is reduced by 55p. 

If you had three, four or more children, you wouldn't get any more income. Universal Credit, and its predecessor benefits, was never intended to provide  a disincentive to seeking work by providing more than the minimal income. It is a massive indictment of Britain that wages are so low that the state has to step in, with my money, to top them up. Now that Rachel has removed the two-child cap, she has removed any lingering disincentive for poor parents to have large families.

You may think that this is a good thing, given that  the UK’s fertility rate is currently around 1.5–1.6 children per woman, well below the replacement level of 2.1. This means that, without immigration, the population would gradually shrink and age. So, paying people to breed seems a sensible move forward. Not so, in class-ridden Britain, where Universal Credit claimants are regarded as the wrong sort of people. We don't want any more of those sort of people. We'd rather import religious nutjobs from mediaeval desert cultures than encourage Britain's poor to bang out more kids. There'll be none of that "Have one for the nation, madam". France, Hungary, and Nordic countries all provide generous child allowances, subsidised childcare, and tax breaks to support families, but in Britain  direct financial incentives have been politically problematic. The two‑child cap was framed as preventing “welfare dependency,” while its removal is now being criticised by some as “rewarding breeding.”  There’s a persistent stigma around benefit claimants, with critics suggesting that state support encourages “undesirable” fertility. When someone talks about “perverse incentives” they really are wanting to restrict breeding to those seen as a “desirable” parent. Are you getting a faint whiff of eugenics, here? 

Rachel from Accounts is sticking to her script that she is lifting 500,000 children out of poverty, which is nonsense, of course. Poverty at the bottom line is certainly about enough food to eat, clothes to keep you warm and modest, a roof over your head. You know, like in Africa, where we've been sending charitable funding - "international aid" for all of my life, with no discernible positive outcome. The black babies still have flies in their eyes, distended abdomens and have to walk miles for a drink of dirty water - or so the charity bandits tell us, with heart-breaking pictures that I swear blind are recycled.

Poverty in Britain is defined thusly: Relative poverty refers to people living in households with income below 60% of the median in that year, while Absolute poverty refers to people living in households with income below 60% of median income in a base year, usually 2010/11. This measurement is adjusted for inflation. (source: House of Commons Library)

But, despite this dry definition, the word poverty is bandied about by Rachel Reeves as a signifier of being a good person, a civilised person, intended to conjure images in the listener of those babies with flies in their eyes etc. 

God knows, during my professional career, I have been in enough miserable homes, where the dogs' excrement is uncleared, the semi-clad toddlers crawl on sticky floors, the walls are damp and mouldy, the kitchen is filthy, the bin overflowing.....but this is not the result of cash poverty. It is a consequence of poverty of aspiration, exclusion, the breakdown of neighbourliness, ignorance, illiteracy, addiction, the absence of fathers from the home, the breakdown of the extended family, the death of religion, just not knowing how to do things better, how to live better than this. Giving parents more money is throwing a fig leaf over Britain's endemic problems that actually require a lot more money than Reeves is proposing, to the cheers of her party and the contempt of our Kemi.

As for taxing the property-rich; I'll refer you to the magnificent John Steinbeck in his book Travels with Charley: 

"The concept of real property is deeply implanted in us as the source and symbol of wealth. And now a vast number of people have found a way to bypass it...It is obvious that within a very short time a whole new method of taxation will have to be devised, else the burden on real estate will be so great that no-one will be able to afford it; far from being a source of profit, ownership will be a penalty, and this will be the apex of a pyramid of paradoxes. The pressure comes from our biologic success as a species. We have overcome all enemies but ourselves."

................................................................

Emergency First Aid Tip:

Onions can help with ear infections due to their antibacterial and anti-inflammatory properties. On being stricken with an ear infection, slice an onion in half, boil or microwave to soften it, allow it to cool until warm, wrap in a cloth and apply to the ear. Then try to get an appointment to see your doctor. 

There are four splendid anthologies of the writings of stanislav and mr ishmael, compiled by his friend, mr verge, the house filthster, at Amazon or Lulu. Here's how:

Honest Not Invent, Vent Stack, Ishmael’s Blues, and the latest, Flush Test (with a nice picture of the late, much lamented, Mr Harris of Lanarkshire taking a piss on a totem pole) are available from Lulu and Amazon. If you buy from Amazon, it would be nice if you could give a review on their website.

IIshmaelites wishing to buy a copy from lulu should follow these steps 

please register an account first, at lulu.com. This is advisable because otherwise paypal seems to think it's ok to charge in dollars, and they then apply their own conversion rate, which might put the price up slightly for a UK buyer. Once the new account is set up, follow one of the links below (to either paperback or hardback) or type "Ishmael’s Blues" into the Lulu Bookstore search box. Click on the “show explicit content” tab, give the age verification box a date of birth such as 1 January 1960, and proceed.

Link for Hardcover : https://tinyurl.com/je7nddfr

Link for Paperback : https://tinyurl.com/3jurrzux

https://www.lulu.com/shop/ishmael-smith/flush-test/paperback/product-9yjvn7.html?q=Flush+Test&page=1&pageSize=4

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.

With the 15% voucher, PB (including delivery to a UK address) should be £16.84; HB £27.04.

Let's tax it!

The Sunday Ishmael: 23/11/2025

 I'll confess that I was a bit dim as a child. The neighbourhood kids who took me out were older than me and infinitely more sophisticated. Autumn and winter were prime begging season, despite the bitter Yorkshire cold and the agony of chapped bare legs inside Wellingtons: In November there was Penny For the Guy, then December had us stumbling through  Give Me Some Figgy Pudding and We Won't Go till We've Got Some. We didn't actually want Figgy Pudding. No-one wants Figgy Pudding. There's always left-overs of Figgy Pudding after the Christmas Feast. Jamie Oliver has this recipe which involves spreading old figgy pudding, left over mince pies, grated apples and chopped dark chocolate over filo pastry, rolling it up, brushing it with egg wash, baking it and serving it up with custard. Prior, no doubt, to heaving it into the bin.

Ma mère, not being native here nor to the manor born, was not keen, but, after I earnestly explained about Guy Fawkes, Santa Claus and the Baby Jesus, she let me go with the older kids. I believed all three were gods. A sort of Winter Trinity. When I was taken to Lewis's in Leeds to visit Santa Claus I was absolutely terrified, especially when invited to sit on the god's knee and tell him what I wanted for Christmas. (It was a train set. I had in mind a miniature railway with platforms and villages that I could set up in the garden. We had a big garden. After all, why wouldn't a god be able to give me such a thing of wonder? And he had asked. I got a model railway - but it was a little thing, with a circular track.)

Probably worth a fortune if I had it now.

 I digress. Back on track now (see what I did there?).

Of the Trinity of Guy Fawkes, Santa Claus and The Baby Jesus, it turned out that only one was real. The terrorist who attempted to blow up the Houses of Parliament, complete with legislature. Remember, remember, the fifth of November. Gunpowder, treason and plot. We have not forgot. Still burn the poor man in effigy, he who had avoided the vicious sentence of execution of being hung, drawn and quartered by jumping off the scaffolding in order to break his neck before they got down to the disembowelling bit.

Anyway, the world not being confusing enough, we still tell lies to children, presumably in order to set them up with the requisite degree of gullibility for adult life.

One who has made a living by exploiting gullibility is Zack Polanski, the Leader of the Green Party in England and in Wales (in Scotland we have our own nutters).

Zack reclaimed his surname from his family's efforts to avoid anti-Semitism by changing their surname to Paulden after escaping to England in the early twentieth century from Europe. He didn't like his first name, either, despite sharing it with King David of biblical fame, deciding that Zack was just more Jewish. Polanski worked with the theatre company DifferencENGINE as an immersive theatre actor, including appearances in The Hollow Hotel and The People's Revolt (in the Tower of London). He taught at the Academy of Live and Recorded Arts and the National Centre for Circus Arts. Polanski sang for the London International Gospel Choir. He also worked as a hypnotherapist. Pretty cool guy, you might say, taking in the almost-beard and the gap-toothed grin. Unfortunately, his fancy led him into politics. Initially attracted to the Lib Dems, he put his name forward in the Richmond Park by-election held in December 2016 but the selection list was restricted to local residents. According to Private Eye, Polanski was dismayed at the decision and requested the decision be reviewed, feeling that the party was not interested in what he could contribute as a "gay Jewish renter".  I think he meant home renter, not rent-boy renter. So off he hopped to the Greens, where he has done very well - on 2 September 2025, Polanski was elected as leader of the Green Party in a landslide, with 85% of the vote share. 

The problem is that Polanski is simply not a serious politician. Are any of them? Aren't they all just careerist chancers? Aye, right, but Polanski may well understand stage craft, know what sells with the general public, be a fluent communicator and hypnotist, but he doesn't understand economics. Again, do any of them? Isn't it all made up nonsense? Well, to an extent, but this man, setting out his economic stall on the Laura Kuenssberg politics show this morning, has all the hallmarks of a man who has set himself to believe six impossible Green mantra things before breakfast and is going to tell the world about them, however divorced from reality are his economic plans around borrowing, investment, bond markets, and challenging the economic status quo. Zack tells us that inequality is the biggest crisis Britain faces, it is causing a divided and unstable society and Britain needs an alternative economic paradigm. He wants a wealth tax not to reduce borrowing to fund the undertakings of the state, but to reduce inequality and stop billionaires from hoarding assets. He thinks borrowing more is a good idea - borrowing money into existence - (where have we heard that before) and is ok because we'd be borrowing from the Bank of England, which we own. Jeremy Hunt, former Chancellor of the Exchequer, and Andy Haldane, former Chief Economist at the Bank of England, looked on, aghast.

Our Zack makes Rachel from Accounts look like a safe pair of hands. I'm eagerly awaiting her budget on Wednesday.

The train shudders, a carriage of damp coats and muttered sighs,

Santa lumbers in with a sack of toys and mince pies,

Zack Polanski waves leaflets like semaphore for the just,

And Guy Fawkes sits glowering, smelling of sulphur, muttering “Powder or bust.”

The train rattles through drizzle, its tannoy announcing delays with the cheer of a funeral bell. Three unlikely passengers share a compartment:

• Zack Polanski, Green Party deputy leader, clutching a reusable coffee cup.

• Guy Fawkes, smelling faintly of gunpowder and damp cellars. 

• Santa Claus, chubbily cheery.

Santa: “Ho ho ho! Free gifts for all, though the elves are striking over pension reform.”

Polanski: “Solidarity with the elves. But perhaps we should electrify the sleigh, cut emissions, and pay them fairly.”

Fawkes: “Bah. I say burn the sleigh, burn the triple lock, burn the timetable. Only fire wakes the nation.”

Santa: “But if you burn the timetable, how will children know when I arrive?”

Polanski: “We’ll publish a transparent schedule, with community oversight. And fewer plastic toys.”

Fawkes: “Plastic toys? I wanted barrels of powder.”

Santa: “Powdered sugar, surely. For the gingerbread.”

The train lurches. A commuter drops his newspaper, headline screaming about wealth taxes.

Polanski picks it up: “See, we need systemic change. Not just fireworks.”

Fawkes mutters: “Systemic change tastes better with sparks.”

Santa offers a mince pie: “Gentlemen, perhaps revolution can be sweetened. The economy’s simple — give gifts, spread cheer, and hope the elves don’t strike before Christmas.”

Polanski (earnest): “Santa, that’s charming, but we need systemic fairness. Elf pensions, sleigh electrification, and a green industrial strategy. The economy must serve people and planet, not just stockings.”

Fawkes (snarling): “Stockings? Pensions? You patch a corpse with slogans. I sought to blow the chamber sky-high, not balance its books. The economy is corruption in coin form — it deserves fire.”

Polanski looks hard at Santa - "You must be a billionaire. All those toys. A mansion at the North Pole."

Santa, smugly replies: " Ho, ho, ho. You'll not tax me, lad, I don't live in your jurisdiction. And if I did, I would move out of Britain sharpish."

Polanski: "If you don't want to pay your tax, good riddance to you. And to your polluting reindeer.  Tax the billionaires, invest in renewables, and stop pretending mince pies are fiscal policy."

Things are looking uncomfortable when the tannoy announces: “Passengers for Compromise Halt, please alight.”

Santa and Polanski shuffle off, still quarrelling about electrified sleighs, cutting reindeer poop emissions and elf pensions.

Fawkes remains seated, staring at the tunnel ahead, whispering:

“Redistribution? I redistribute ash. Your reforms are lullabies for the complacent. I would light the fuse again — the economy is a powder keg, and Parliament its vault.”

Now the carriage is dim, rattling through drizzle. Only Guy Fawkes remains, rigid, eyes like flint, muttering about powder and corruption.

The lamp flickers. A hush falls. And then — impossibly — the Baby Jesus appears, swaddled, radiant, seated opposite him.

Fawkes (startled, then grim): “A child? Yet not just a child. You too were crushed for defiance. You too were a martyr.”

Jesus (quiet, piercing): “I was born into poverty. You sought to blow up the Chamber; I sought to overturn the Tables. Both of us faced power, and both of us were silenced.”

Fawkes (leaning forward): “Then you understand. The economy is corruption in coin form. It deserves fire.”

Jesus (firm, but gentle):“Just remember, remember - martyrdom worked well for both of us."

The train rattles on, carrying only two passengers: one with powder, one with parables.

They sit in uneasy alliance.

Outside, the stations blur past. Inside, the whisper is shared:

“The fuse is eternal. The economy itself is the powder keg. And the politicians ..... devils in disguise.”

So, as Britain doesn't have a blasphemy law, I've been able, with impunity, to introduce the Baby Jesus into my Learn Economics 101 with Zack Polanski and Santa Claus. (A fail grade will result in detonation by Professor Fawkes.)

Again, as Britain doesn't have a blasphemy law, you'll not be surprised to learn that Hamit Coskun's  conviction for a religiously aggravated public order offense for burning a Quran outside the Turkish consulate in London has been overturned on appeal. He was found guilty by Westminster Magistrates’ Court and fined £240, with a £96 surcharge. The CPS used that catch all public order offense in lieu of a blasphemy law. We have a similar catch-all offence category of Breach of the Peace here in Scotland. One chap was found guilty of Breach of the Peace by dancing naked in his own house, to the offence of the lieges. Honest, not invent.

At sentencing, the Bench stated that while burning a religious book is offensive, it is not necessarily disorderly, but the timing and location of the act made it so. Mr Coskun, who had experienced a tough time with the religion of peace in Turkey, had also shouted "Fuck Islam" which the Bench found prejudicial towards Muslims. In support of how offensive it was to ordinary, peaceable Muslim citizens, 

Moussa Kadri, 59, pictured above with knife prior to attacking Mr Coskun, saw him setting alight the text and shouted "hang on a sec", before going home to collect the knife. Launching himself into the fray to protect his religion, as he put it, Kadri yelled: "I'm going to kill you" before slashing at Coskun with a knife. So excitable, these foreigners.  Kadri was sentenced to 20 weeks in prison for protecting his religion, suspended for 18 months.

So, all well and good. The nasty CPS who brought the non-blasphemy-law prosecution in the first place, were firmly put back in their box by Mr Justice Bennathon, sitting with two Justices of the Peace. In 15 closely-argued pages of remarks, summarising the law and case law, he overturned the original conviction. He stated: 

 "There is no offence of blasphemy in our law. Burning a Koran may be an act that many Muslims find desperately upsetting and offensive. The criminal law, however, is not a mechanism that seeks to avoid people being upset, even grievously upset. The right to freedom of expression, if it is a right worth having, must include the right to express views that offend, shock or disturb.  

We live in a liberal democracy. One of the precious rights that affords us is to express our own views and read, hear and consider ideas without the state intervening to stop us doing so. The price we pay for that is having to allow others to exercise the same rights, even if that upsets, offends or shocks us. "

I said you would not be surprised that this ridiculous conviction was overturned. What should surprise you, though - and which downright shocked me, is that the CPS has launched an appeal in the High Court against the acquittal of Hamit Coskun, no doubt with reckless disregard to the taxpayer's (that is, mine) money. The CPS just won't give up - they are determined to introduce a blasphemy law (but only in respect of Islam) through case law. Root and branch reform needed.

..........................................................................

There are four splendid anthologies of the writings of stanislav and mr ishmael, compiled by his friend, mr verge, the house filthster, at Amazon or Lulu. Here's how:

Honest Not Invent, Vent Stack, Ishmael’s Blues, and the latest, Flush Test (with a nice picture of the late, much lamented, Mr Harris of Lanarkshire taking a piss on a totem pole) are available from Lulu and Amazon. If you buy from Amazon, it would be nice if you could give a review on their website.

IIshmaelites wishing to buy a copy from lulu should follow these steps 

please register an account first, at lulu.com. This is advisable because otherwise paypal seems to think it's ok to charge in dollars, and they then apply their own conversion rate, which might put the price up slightly for a UK buyer. Once the new account is set up, follow one of the links below (to either paperback or hardback) or type "Ishmael’s Blues" into the Lulu Bookstore search box. Click on the “show explicit content” tab, give the age verification box a date of birth such as 1 January 1960, and proceed.

Link for Hardcover : https://tinyurl.com/je7nddfr

Link for Paperback : https://tinyurl.com/3jurrzux

https://www.lulu.com/shop/ishmael-smith/flush-test/paperback/product-9yjvn7.html?q=Flush+Test&page=1&pageSize=4

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.

With the 15% voucher, PB (including delivery to a UK address) should be £16.84; HB £27.04.

The Sunday Pissoir: 16/11/2025

 

Well, Lord Copper, on the facts as reported, one can only surmise that the former Chancellor of the Exchequer, former Bullingdonboy, former Conservative MP for Tatton, former editor of the Evening Standard, former advisor to the asset manager for BlackRock, investment banker at Robey Warshaw, chairman of the British Museum, and proud father of the imaginatively-named Luke Benedict, Liberty Kate, Beau, Arthur and Pax, is a piss-poor dinner party host.

One may surmise that the conversation went like this:

Baron Mandelson (aka The Red Baron): Please may I use your toilet?
The former Former: No, piss off.
Baron: Oh, please, I'm desperate.
Former: I said piss off, nonce-adjacent Gayman, we've drunk your Chilean wine, so piss right off.
Baron: Can I wait inside for my Uber?
Former: What did I say?
Baron: Was that piss off?

A Leak in the Establishment: 

Leaked WhatsApp Chat: Mandelson & Osborne

Time: 00:47 AM

Location: Somewhere between Notting Hill and Uber Purgatory

Mandelson: George. I’ve just urinated on your perimeter wall.

Long wait for Uber. No loo access. Regret nothing.

Osborne: Peter. The wall is Grade II listed. Was it respectful?

Mandelson:  I whispered “Third Way forever” as I relieved myself.

Uber arrived. Driver said I was "Epstein's nonce friend." And left.

Osborne: You should sue.

Mandelson: I’m saving my lawsuits for the BBC. They edited me to sound like I endorsed Donald Trump.

Osborne: Unforgivable.

Mandelson: Anyway, your wall now bears the mark of New Labour. History will judge it kindly.

Osborne: I’ll send the butler with a towel.

 BBC Internal Email

From: Tim Davie & Deborah Turness

To: All BBC Staff

Subject: Managing Peer-Related Wall Incidents with Discretion

Dear Colleagues,

In light of recent media speculation surrounding a senior peer’s alleged interaction with a Grade II listed boundary wall following a private dinner at a former Chancellor’s residence, we wish to offer guidance on how to respond with professionalism, discretion, and editorial neutrality.

What Happened (Officially)

We do not confirm, deny, or editorialize reports of Lord Mandelson urinating on George Osborne’s garden wall while awaiting an Uber. We acknowledge that masonry was involved, and that the peer in question may have been suffering post-loss trauma.

How to Respond

If approached by press or public:

• Use the phrase: “We are aware of the reports and are reviewing the editorial implications.”

• Do not use the phrase: “He peed on the wall.”

• Refer to the incident as a “moment of personal expression in a transitional urban space.”

If asked whether the BBC will cover the story:

• Say: “We are committed to impartial coverage of all masonry-related events.”

• Avoid: “We’re saving it for Have I Got News For You.”

Editorial Considerations

This incident raises important questions about:

• The boundaries between public and private relief.

• The symbolic resonance of masonry in post-Blair Britain.

• The role of Uber in shaping elite urinary behaviour.

Final Thoughts

Let us remember that we are not just journalists—we are custodians of a National Treasure. When a peer meets a wall, history listens. Let us ensure our microphones are pointed in the right direction.

Yours in editorial solidarity,

Tim & Deborah

(former)Director-General & CEO of BBC News

BBC Press Release

Title: Lord Mandelson and the Wall: A Statement of Regretful Ambiguity

Issued by: BBC Communications Office

Date: 16 November 2025

In response to recent media coverage concerning Lord Mandelson’s alleged interaction with a boundary wall following a private dinner hosted by former Chancellor George Osborne, the BBC wishes to clarify its position with the appropriate level of editorial distance and architectural respect.

The Incident

We understand that Lord Mandelson, while awaiting transportation, may have engaged in a moment of personal relief. While the BBC was not involved in the dinner, the Uber, or the masonry, we recognize the public interest in matters involving peers and boundaries.

Editorial Position

The BBC does not condone, endorse, or editorialize acts of urination, symbolic or otherwise. We remain committed to impartial coverage of all bodily functions when they intersect with heritage property and political legacy.

Regretful Ambiguity

We regret any distress caused by the reporting of this incident, and acknowledge the complexity of the social, architectural, and micturitional contexts. We are reviewing our protocols to ensure future wall-related events are handled with greater nuance and fewer puns.

Moving Forward

We will not be commissioning a documentary at this time, though we remain open to exploring the broader themes of masonry, power, and post-Blair bladder control in future programming.

We thank the public for their continued trust in our editorial discretion and our ability to navigate the delicate intersection of politics and plumbing.

Stanislav say:

BBC involve in everything except truth. You film fucking puffin fucking but miss peer peeing on history. Stanislav intersect with toilet daily. BBC intersect with nonsense hourly.

Stanislav navigate plumbing. BBC navigate fog. Fog of fear. Fog of fudge. Fog of piss. Sofa cunts.

AN ECONOMIC ILLITERATE SPEAKS TO OTHER ECONOMIC ILLITERATES.

Well, Conference, there may well be growing govament debt, wages may well be worthless; the only growth is in house prices and tax fraud but look on the bright side, apprenticeships are providing very useful - £2.55 pence per hour - slave labour to businesses, as well as teaching our young people valuable skills such as grass-cutting and floor-sweeping, sometimes for as long as ten hours per week, but do not worry, Conference, we will try to drive these wages down further and spread the culture of zero-hours contracts to all, apart from ourselves (cheers and applause from elderly, bilious Tories;) we have cleared the way for asset-stripping companies, such as the recent owners of Phones4You, to borrow money at almost zero per cent, load it onto the balance sheet of a perfectly healthy company, extract and pay themselves bonuses and expenses in excess of thirty million pounds - paid, of course into tax-free accounts overseas - and then crash the company, throwing 5,000 proper taxpayers out of work, depriving the Exchequer of proper tax revenues (cheers, whistles foot-stomping.) Best of all, building on the work of the last lot, we have extended the practice of borrowing-money-into-existence and passing it to our friends in the banks in order that they may loan it to the public in the hope that mortgage holders and businesses may in due course be robbed by the banks of their lives' work.

Unemployment, homelessness, illness, slavery and usury; these, conference, are what we proudly offer you; mock growth, mock jobs, a mock health service and every other shop in the High Street a loan shop. No-one can say I'm making a fuck of the economy, I am proudly and determinedly making a mock of it.

(Conference erupts in tears of jubilation, no-one present having a fucking clue how money works, much less economics. Well, they wouldn't be there, wouldn't be Tories, if they did, would they?)

The front bench anal fistula, Osborne, looking as sickly-pasty as if he had fellated half the hall and was about to throw-up.

A Prime Minister speaks:

Here at home, we spend only 16 billion pounds a year on the War on Drugs.

And yes, I know, half the legislature is on cocaine.

But they only use taxpayers' money for it. Quite proply, in my judgement.

Yes, I know, it is mad, isn't it, Mr Tiny Speaker, declaring war on inimitable things. No, no, I mean indeterminate things. Wossat? Inanimate things. OK. Woddever. But it's what we do now, declaring War with a capital doubleyou on things. Yes, War. On things. Yes, yes, and where was I? Yes, the War on Drugs, after having spent a fucking fortune the fucking things've never been fucking cheaper or more fucking plentiful. Yes, even though we've spent - wossmore'n'a trillion, George?

Chancellor Osborne, in charge of HM Voodoo Economics policies.

A gazillion, boss.

Right, right, thank you, Chancellor, we've spent gazillions of your taxpounds on the War on Drugs, here, in this theatre of operations, and it's made drugs easier and cheaper to come by than even when I was at Oxford.

Not that I was.

No, I was at Oxford, yes, getting the best degree you can buy, a double-triple, I believe it was called. Only not taking any of TheGoodStuff, I mean cocaine. No, no, my sepsus, I was born with a perforated sepsus, and if you don't believe me I can show you an X-ray of Lady Hague's uterus, to prove I'm not gay, and sleeping with a pretty young blade, I mean aide. And no, it is simply not fair to describe the Chancellor........

An I'm gonna be hi-i-i-i-igh as a kite by then. I'm a Regency Rocket Man.

...........as a victim of the War on Drugs.

He's always had enough money to buy them,

whatever the price.

Not that he does.

..........................................................

Thank you, mr ishmael. (Satire, Remember?)

Returning to Stanislav AND the BBC

Stanislav, a young Polish plumber, writes:

Stanislav fix leak in flat of Mrs. Thatcher’s ghost when hear:

“Donald Trump suing BBC for billion dollars.”

Stanislav laugh so hard, he crack cistern.

Soft-palmed, Oxbridge BBC sofa-cunts, edit Trump speech like it TikTok for fascists. Cut, snip, paste - make him sound like declare war on grammar and democrats.  Trump say: “I want apology and billion.” BBC say: “We regret your feelings but not our actions.” Stanislav say: “In Poland, when broadcaster lie, get slap with kielbasa and sent to fix roof. In Britain, get pension and podcast. BBC all about drywank jawdrop apologies. “We take this seriously” have soy chai and hire diversity consultant to explain facts are fascist.

Stanislav go back to pipe. It leak like Beeb credibility.

Stanislav is young Polish plumber. He come to England to fix leaks, not watch nation drown in bullshit. 

Stanislav know BBC. He fix boiler in Broadcasting House once. Whole place smell like fear and hummus. People there speak in apology. Not English. Not Polish. Just apology.

Trump want billion dollar. BBC say no. They clutch pearls so hard, pearls file restraining order.

Stanislav fix leaks. Unclog truth. Not edit speeches to sound like fascist karaoke. Today, Stanislav hear new news:

BBC say won’t pay Trump because it’s license payers’ money.

Trump say: “No problem. Pay from own bank accounts. Name names.”

BBC panic. They say: “We regret the impression that our impression may have impressed upon you, but we cannot pay because the money belongs to Mrs. Penelope in Croydon who watches Antiques Roadshow”

Trump say: “Name names.”

Trump want names. BBC give job titles.

 BBC Internal Memo

From: Tim Davie & Deborah Turness

To: All BBC Editorial Staff

Subject: Editorial Excellence, Ethics, and Navigating the Post-Trump Terrain

Dear Colleagues,

As we reflect on recent events - including the regrettable but artistically necessary misrepresentation of President Trump’s speech, we wish to extend our heartfelt thanks for your continued commitment to editorial nuance, progressive signalling, and strategic opacity.

Your ability to balance truth with taste, and taste with trending hashtags, remains the envy of broadcasters worldwide.

Praise for Contemporary Ethics:

We are particularly proud of the following achievements:

• Rewriting historical documentaries to include more feelings and fewer facts.

• Replacing “women” with “pregnant people” while maintaining a facial expression of studied neutrality.

• Ensuring all wildlife programming includes a climate change mention.

These are not just editorial choices—they are moral victories.

How to Get Away With It

In light of the Trump lawsuit, we offer the following guidance:

1. Apologize with Ambiguity

Use phrases like “We regret any impression that may have been formed”. Never admit fault. Fault is for ITV.

2. Invoke the Licence Fee

Remind critics that compensation would come from the public purse. This shifts blame to the viewer, which is always safe.

3. Name No Names

If pressed, refer to “editorial teams” or “production units.” Never name individuals. Individuals have pensions.

4. Deploy the Diversity Cloak

If criticism escalates, issue a statement reaffirming our commitment to inclusion. This creates a moral smokescreen and confuses the tabloids.

5. Use the Word “Complex” Liberally

All errors are “complex editorial challenges.” This implies depth, even when the mistake was cutting a sentence in half and adding ominous music.

 Final Thoughts

We are not just a broadcaster. We are a beacon of curated truth, a lighthouse in the fog of nuance. Let us continue to lead with empathy, edit with flair, and apologize with plausible deniability.

Yours in broadcast solidarity,

Tim & Deborah

(former) Director-General & CEO of BBC News

“Honest, not invent.”

................................................................................

If you have enjoyed this pastiche of Stanislav and a genuine essay by mr ishmael, you can find four splendid anthologies of the writings of stanislav and mr ishmael, compiled by his friend, mr verge, the house filthster, at Amazon or Lulu. Here's how:

Honest Not Invent, Vent Stack, Ishmael’s Blues, and the latest, Flush Test (with a nice picture of the late, much lamented, Mr Harris of Lanarkshire taking a piss on a totem pole) are available from Lulu and Amazon. If you buy from Amazon, it would be nice if you could give a review on their website.

IIshmaelites wishing to buy a copy from lulu should follow these steps 

please register an account first, at lulu.com. This is advisable because otherwise paypal seems to think it's ok to charge in dollars, and they then apply their own conversion rate, which might put the price up slightly for a UK buyer. Once the new account is set up, follow one of the links below (to either paperback or hardback) or type "Ishmael’s Blues" into the Lulu Bookstore search box. Click on the “show explicit content” tab, give the age verification box a date of birth such as 1 January 1960, and proceed.

Link for Hardcover : https://tinyurl.com/je7nddfr

Link for Paperback : https://tinyurl.com/3jurrzux

https://www.lulu.com/shop/ishmael-smith/flush-test/paperback/product-9yjvn7.html?q=Flush+Test&page=1&pageSize=4

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.

With the 15% voucher, PB (including delivery to a UK address) should be £16.84; HB £27.04.

The Sunday Ishmael: 9/11/2025

  

You can put your bleedin' poppies where the Sun don't never shine
For hypocrisy's your only creed, you ain't no friend of mine
You ain't no friend of no-one's, if the truth was only told
To the boys you send to bleed and die and never to grow old.
It wouldn't do for your sons, all to the manner born
To die alone in foreign fields, forgotten and forlorn
To die alone in foreign fields, forgotten and forlorn
That's the stuff for me and mine, our bodies ripped and torn. 

(extract from Poppies, full poem in: call me ishmael: AT THE GOING DOWN OF THE SUN

AT THE GOING DOWN OF THE SUN

"The first Two Minute Silence in London (11 November 1919) was reported in the Manchester Guardian on 12 November 1919:

The first stroke of eleven produced a magical effect. The tram cars glided into stillness, motors ceased to cough and fume, and stopped dead, and the mighty-limbed dray horses hunched back upon their loads and stopped also, seeming to do it of their own volition. Someone took off his hat, and with a nervous hesitancy the rest of the men bowed their heads also. Here and there an old soldier could be detected slipping unconsciously into the posture of 'attention'. An elderly woman, not far away, wiped her eyes, and the man beside her looked white and stern. Everyone stood very still ... The hush deepened. It had spread over the whole city and become so pronounced as to impress one with a sense of audibility. It was a silence which was almost pain ... And the spirit of memory brooded over it all." wiki

Here we go..... Again

The UK has agreed to provide military support to Belgium after drone incursions on its airspace that are suspected to have been carried out by Russia, the new Chief of Defence Staff, Air Chief Marshal Sir Richard Knighton, said today on the BBC’s Sunday Morning With Laura Kuenssberg programme.

“And the UK, alongside our other 31 allies in NATO, will work to support each other, and that’s why the defence secretary and I are very happy to see UK military personnel deployed to support Belgium.”

He certainly looks happy. Culmination of his life's work, and all that. Take Great Britain into World War Three. All that climbing the Greasy Pole was worth it after all.

Sir Richard happily told Laura: “ Russia is the most pressing threat right now.......The illegal invasion of Ukraine has shown the barbaric nature of Russia's war efforts.”

Laura was pretty shocked. "It's serious, then?"

Too late now - she should have had a very serious word with Boris when she had him on that bench. Antagonising Putin, on purpose, in support of the Warmongering Dwarf Zelensky could only ever have had one outcome. And we're just about to dive right into that outcome. Couldn't someone have exercised a little real politic, a tiny bit of appeasement, attempted to make an ally of Europe-facing Russia, instead of driving her East towards China and North Korea?
Sir Richard said: “It is important to be clear, though, that we don’t know – and the Belgians don’t yet know – the source of those drones, but we will help them by providing our kit and capability, which has already started to deploy to help Belgium.”  The Kremlin has denied any involvement.

The BBC is a bit to blame as well as Boris for whipping up the anti-Russian rhetoric following the invasion of Ukraine. Couldn't someone have shrugged their shoulders and said Paris is worth a Mass? Or the Donbas and Crimea, in this instance. 

The BBC is finally in trouble for its brass-necked bias  propaganda lies. Lisa I'm-sorry-I- didn't meet the highest standards-about-the-appointment-of-David-Kogan Nandy, said today that she's always telling the Beeb off about its reporting of the Palestinian invasion of Israel and its misrepresentation of President Trump's defeat speech. 

I expect we will look forward to more "unbiased" reporting of the forthcoming war, as NATO rallies around Brussels and our personnel are deployed.

I was on the first morning flight one Monday out of Kirkwall Airport to Aberdeen. I was on my way to a work-related event. There were the usual ill passengers on  their way to see their consultant at the Aberdeen Royal Infirmary. There may have been a politician or two, on his way to be important in Westminster. But, mainly, the flight was occupied by big, noisy, very smelly, still drunk from the weekend, men, going back to work on the oilrig after their shore leave. No, but, they took up a lot of room. A lot. And the smell was challenging, shall we say. Compounded of stale sweat, stale beer, rancid breath, unclean botties and spilled food. I've never known anything like it. They were jovial, reminiscing about the fun they'd had. The stewardess had to instruct them to remain seated whilst the plane was still in the air, in case they created flatulence turbulence.

So I was unsurprised when I learned that thousands of the buggers are being required to lose weight in order to keep their jobs, as the rescue helicopters cannot hoist workers weighing more than nineteen and a half stone. Thousands of them. Weighing more than 19.5 stone. How much more?

Perhaps Happy Sir Richard Knighton might commandeer these tough little Scottish helicopters that  are deployed to carry up to 19.5 stone of Scottish manhood above the North Sea.

Anyway, Kirkwall Airport. Brought to a standstill, not by Russian (we deny any involvement) drones, but by Ross Buchan, who was described by his defence lawyer as suffering from ADHD, Autism and Oppositional Defiance Disorder. I wonder if that's the same thing that used to be called Attitood? On the morning of the 4th January, he repeatedly phoned Kirkwall Airport. The first time he said: "Boom. Aeroplane goes boom". In a later call he said: "Up the Kremlin. Justice for the Motherland." The airline declared a bomb threat. The airport was closed, luggage re-scanned,  and  emergency services searched the plane. You will probably not be surprised to learn that no bombs or explosives were discovered.

Whilst bringing you Orkney news, I should mention the latest scandal besetting Orkney Islands Council. The Harbour Master, Jim Buck, is not at his post and an interim harbour master has been appointed. This may or may not be linked to the expenditure of £1,050 from the marine service budget to buy five bespoke Harris Tweed jackets. The luxury fabric  will adorn five staff as a sort of uniform. Smarten them up  bit. Look on it as an upmarket version of hard hats and safety boots.

There are four splendid anthologies of the writings of stanislav and mr ishmael, compiled by his friend, mr verge, the house filthster. You can buy them from Amazon or Lulu. Here's how:

Honest Not Invent, Vent Stack, Ishmael’s Blues, and the latest, Flush Test (with a nice picture of the late, much lamented, Mr Harris of Lanarkshire taking a piss on a totem pole) are available from Lulu and Amazon. If you buy from Amazon, it would be nice if you could give a review on their website.

IIshmaelites wishing to buy a copy from lulu should follow these steps 

please register an account first, at lulu.com. This is advisable because otherwise paypal seems to think it's ok to charge in dollars, and they then apply their own conversion rate, which might put the price up slightly for a UK buyer. Once the new account is set up, follow one of the links below (to either paperback or hardback) or type "Ishmael’s Blues" into the Lulu Bookstore search box. Click on the “show explicit content” tab, give the age verification box a date of birth such as 1 January 1960, and proceed.

Link for Hardcover : https://tinyurl.com/je7nddfr

Link for Paperback : https://tinyurl.com/3jurrzux

https://www.lulu.com/shop/ishmael-smith/flush-test/paperback/product-9yjvn7.html?q=Flush+Test&page=1&pageSize=4

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.

With the 15% voucher, PB (including delivery to a UK address) should be £16.84; HB £27.04.

Kirkwall Airport. Boom. Aeroplane goes Boom.