State of the Limey Nation Address

Not everyone who gathers here may have read this State of the Nation Address, and, now that President Trump Nouvelle is pondering why the fuck the Limey Communist Party, recently back in charge again and building economic policy on the everything's fucked Black Hole model, has appointed one of Satan's lieutenants as Ambassador to the USofA, it is timely to consider the thoughts of his late, great predecessor, Codger McCain, on the special relationship with Great Britain:

stanislav said...

From CBS, NBC, CNN, ABC and that cunt Murdoch's pretend news channel.

State of the Limey Nation Address.

"Mah Fellow Motherfuckers, President Codger McCain here tonight to shoot the fat a little, chew the breeze, right here, fronta the fire with m'dog, Obama, just like my illustrious predecessor in this great office, president whoosis, used to do, y'all know who I mean, the little fat fuck who took over when the other one croaked, the one in the hat, the one who nuked the Nips to Hell and back, slimy little yellow bastards, President Codger McCain'd a bombed every last fucking one of them grunting little monkeys, and their fucking Emperor Horseshit, right back to their rice-munching, head-chopping fucking ancestors, glassed the whole fucking place right over.

All got way too many teeth, ever notice that, mah fellow motherfuckers, how them slopes all got a few too many teeth? No, I guess not but it's the kinda thing a Commander in Chief needs to know about before he has some sonsa fuckin' bitches blown into next fuckin' week. It's frankly unfucking American, number a teeth them little bastards got. No wonder they can't talk right, like decent white Christian folks. Eat with fuckin' twigs, they do, probably can't get a knife and fork past all them fuckin' teeth. Obama! get yer fuckin' nose outa that woman's ass, I told ya before, next time I'll take you out on the White House lawn and blow yer Goddamned head off; got m'gun, right here in my pants, next to my catheter. Sorry about that folks, now, where in the Hell was I?

Yeah right. Foreign policy stuff. No easy way to say this, what with the special relationship and everything, but the Limey President, he's an honest ta fucking Jesus shit-fer-brains fruitcake, a twenty-four fuckin' carat psycho and I am not, mah fellow motherfuckers, bullshittin' yer asses, man's madder'n a grizzly with his dick caught in a trap, running around all over the woods, biting hisself. Been over there in London England myself, met him right up close and I have to tell y'all that that's one mad Limey. And his breath, sonofa fuckin bitch, it smells like the fucking aircon went off down at the morgue, go in a room with the Limey President's like sticking yer head up Satan's asshole. He leaves the meeting every five minutes to go an jerk himself off, y'know, no I'm not shitting ya, comes back in squirming and stuttering, his lower jaw jerking up and down like a fiddler's fuckin' elbow; guy over there, Polack plumber, got a whole new terminology for it.

Y'know, on the tee-vee, everytime I see that Goddamned jaw manouevre, that gulping, I swear to Goda-fuckingMighty that that dude's got somebody's fist up his Goddamn asshole; right there, on the fuckin' tee-vee, there's someone, under the fuckin' table, behind the fuckin' chair, got their Goddamned fist up the Limey President's asshole.

Goes on the tee-vee, right there plumb in the middlea the Limey Congress, sits there eatin' snot right out a his fucking nose, like a four year old. Right there on the Goddamned tee-vee. I ever see that fuckin' heathen ass-fistin', snot-eatin', jerk-off sonofabitch here in my Oval Office take him right out there on the White House lawn and blow his fuckin' head off, see what he makes a them values; got m'gun, right here in my pants, next my catheter.

Y'know, he came down offa that reservation up at the top of England Britain where they keep the drunks and mental patient folks, all the transwotsanames, the dwarves, all those kinda freaks, web-foots, six-finger, inbred, albino, ginger bastard motherfucking mutant sonsafuckinbitches; got 'em all behind a big wall up there and just throw some money over the top now and again, let 'em elect their own mutant in chief, just like regular people, only these mothers are all a million fucking years and a good few evolutionary developments offa being regular; live in fuckin' caves, mosta them, eat porridge with their fingers, worse than fuckin' Nips, seen it with my own eyes, it's like Limey Mexico, and he came down with that other pansy, the one with the freakshow wife, Jesus H fucking Christ, d'ya ever see a kisser like that ? Park a fucking Humvee in there. Imelda her name is, seems like Uncle Sam is buying her a new house every fucking goddamned fucking week, ugly bitch got more palaces than Saddam fucking Hussein.

Anyway, they all come down off the reservation and take over the Limey Communist Party. Get some oily fag cocksucker off the tee-vee, Mandelstein, or something, a walking sperm bank, sucking everybody's dick, they're all coked-up faggots in the BBC Limey media, the ones that ain't kiddy-fiddlers, and next thing you know the pansy and Imelda are in Buckingham House running the whole fucking joint, selling off seats in the Limey Senate like they was hamburgers and this joker, the one-eyed freak, is at the Limey Treasury burning all the country's fucking money in a great big bonfire.

The Limey Congress is full a dingleberries, see, never done a day's fucking work in their Goddamned communist lives, Ree-Surchers, mostly, attorneys some of them, even fuckin' worse, and every commie sonofabitch is dancing round the money bonfire cheering their fuckin' heads off as the whole fuckin' country goes up in smoke.

Anyhow, after ten fuckin' years the pansy realises he's been rumbled and heads off to be a Cardinal for ole Pope Nazi while Imelda is gangbanging her way around the world for money, like she was Jackie fucking Onassis, banging like an Iowa shithouse door in a gale, and up steps the current guy, Gordon, off the Reservation.

And it was all shit, he says, on the street outside 10 Buckingham House, holding hands with his Bearded Lady, everything we done this past ten years, all shit, all of it, shit. I'm going in here right now and let the work of change begin, change all that shit into wine, like he was Charlton fuckin' Heston talking to the fuckin' Israelites. There's no need to elect me, he said, my daddy said I should be Limey President, and that should be enough. I'm going in here now and work night and fucking day and change everything about again. Just as soon as folks see how clever I am, they all gonna want me for Life President's what he says, but first I just gotta make sure all the money gets burnt to fuckin' soot and ashes.

Now, my fellow motherfuckers, Limeyland is one weird joint. Here in the US of A, if you if you go a thousand miles from home and go out to a swingers party, y'know, watch some other dude porkstick yer old lady, and leave yer kids all alone in the dark to be carried away by the raggle taggle gypsies-O or some other kinda bestial ethnic minority groupa worthless unAmerican bastards, you might expect to spend some time on the County Farm, gettin' yer ass kicked but over there in Limeyland they pay off yer fuckin' mortgage for ya and open ya up a huge fuckin' bank account and put your brother in charge of it and the Limey government gives you a spokesman of your own. Get to go on the teevee every day just like a regular motherfucker, instead a gettin' fuckin' stones thrown at ya, like you should.

So it's no surprise to this old warrior that the Communist Limey press corp bought right in to that change shit, off Assman, the Scotch Limey, the idea was that this certifiable fuckin lunatic with voices in his head and hands up his ass who burnt all the fuckin' money should be put in charge of the entire sorry-assed, pussy-whipped country, without so much as an election, but just a promise that the fistin' screwball was gonna pay even closer attention to the spirit messages he received from his late old man, some kind of a Reservation Jehovah's fuckin' Witness, had his own church and everything. and that's just exactly what happened.

Anybody says, Hold on a Goddamn fucking minute, why are you burning all the money and giving the gold away and Assman just says some shit about right long-term decisions for hard-working Limey families and Bob's yer fuckin' uncle. And, my fellow motherfuckers, it is this loser's handling of the Limey money -Prudently Burning all the fuckin' Money and giving away all the gold down there in PoundLand - that caused this whole fuck-up in the subprime market here at home in the US. Messages from the fuckin' dead. That and selling Limeyland into a Communist Federation with a load of fucking European thieves, faggots, cocksuckers and opera-loving, shit-eating motherfuckers.

The whole place is fucked. Limeyland, birthpace of the Pilgrim Fathers, fucked by sodomitin' Scotch lunatics.

The Gay Truckers Association is blockading Assman right there in Buckingham House, even now, those faggots got blood in their eyes and fried egg down their vests, want free gas and all those toilets put back in the highway laybys, is what they want. The Limey Congressmen're makin' it legal for themselves to rob the store until it's fuckin' empty. Back up on the reservation his own tribesmen hate his sorry fisted guts and he daren't even go back there without a full regiment of secret service to protect his ass. Got a dwarf in charge up there, on the reservation, keeps his old lady's corpse in the attic an' drinks his own piss. The communist labour unions won't give him another nickel. The Limey cops hate him, the teachers hate him, the nurses hate him, nothing works, the economy's fucked, the weather's fucked, the roads are fucked, you can't go in a Limey hospital without catching some Goddamned filthy disease because the thieving bastard Limey doctors are all too far up their own asses to wash their fuckin' hands, the schools are fucked, the little bastards running around stabbing each other; come Fall and all the old Limeys're set to freeze to fucking death, or starve or both, if the little bastards don't get 'em first. The police'll plug ya fulla holes soon as fucking look at you; they got cameras in everybody's fucking house, they can just hoist ya off the street and toss yer ass in the slammer and everything you care to mention is shit. If what they're doin' is against the law they just go right ahead and make up some new laws, just like that, Y'all can go and kiss my ass, Mr Voter, that's what them Limey cocksuckng Congressmen say. Assman couldn't win a fucking election in his own front room if he was the only candidate. The Leader of the Limey Republicans is a two-faced, two-bit card-sharping shit-fer-brains Momma's boy; Archbishop Canterburg, the Limey Pope, is a fucking nutcase, couldn't find the hole in his own ass, next King of LimeyLand thinks he's a fucking sanitary towel, most of the Limey Congress is under investigation for fraud, Limey currency soon won't be worth no more'n a Zimbabwe dollar, and the whole shithole is under fuckin' water most of the time.

Snotman's up to his neck in shit and every five fuckin' minutes seems like a turd as big as USS New Jersey comes steaming over the horizon. Just as well they only got a few payclerks and gravediggers hiding in the airport, out there in Eyerack. Wouldn't want the crazy fag Limey cocksucking premier giving orders to proper military.

Talkin' a which, mah fellow motherfuckers, here is my solemn promise to y'all - I find any man in my army sticking his dick up another soldiers's asshole an I'll shoot 'em both, right here on the White House lawn. Ain't fuckin' natural. No more'n that lesbian tennis they're all watching over there in Winbletown. Those dykes come in here, gruntin' and sweatin' and carpet-munchin' all over my West Wing an' I'll fuckin' shoot them, too. Take 'em right out on the White House lawn, blow their fuckin' heads off. Got m'gun, right here in my pants, right next my catheter.

You know, best part of a hundred years we been fightng the Limey's wars for 'em, equipping their pansy army so's the faggot generals and admirals and all them other Ruperts can all mince about in gold fucking braid and fancy pants writin' poetry and gettin' spanked by their Goddamned batmen and what have they done in return? Invented communism and ass-fistin, that's what. Invented right there in London, both of 'em was. Seen it with mah own eyes. London England is now run by a womanising Greek sonofabitch surrounds himself with crooked clergymen and Goddamned perverts just like the last motherfucker, the one who talks through his fucking nose, the one with the frogs and more wives'n'children than a fucking Mormon.

Time we sent the Seventh cavalry over there and rescue them decent Limey folks, while there still is a Limeyland, punish these fuckin' money-burnin' savages and put 'em all back on the reservation they come offa. Gonna lead the regiment mahself. Got m'gun, right here in my pants, next my catheter......She wore, she wore, she wore a yellow ribbon........

It's been real fine talking to you, mah fellow motherfuckers.

Rally round the flag, y'all, only not that blue communist one with the yellow faggot stars.

Ah'll jes get mah gun

July 4, 2008 1:48 PM

The Sunday Ishmael: 26/01/2025

 

Anyway, I spent 3 hours on Monday watching the inauguration. The Merkins aren't nearly as good at ceremony as us, but then, we've had thousands of years practise, and they did their best, for colonials. They rigged up some impressive blue curtaining, which swished open to the accompaniment of jolly circus music with the arrival of each new dignitary, or, as we like to call them, thieves, pimps and gangstas, whilst a sonorous Ring Master’s voice announced the Honourable this, that and the other. 'Twas all very Big Top, and all that patriotism was not subtle, but at least Trump wasn’t required to take his clothes off and kneel down in his shirt in front of the disgraced Archbishop Welby, unlike poor old sausage-fingers King Charles. 

Shame they didn’t book a gospel choir. 

But the parade of the ex Presidents made up for it. They are not looking good – especially Clinton, who looked as if he hasn't really recovered from the glistening cascading anus worms,

although he and dementia-friendly Biden, who had obviously asked his chum, what are you wearing? OK, I'll wear that too, were photographed enjoying the btm of Carrie Underwood, an American singer. 

And the gossip about Obama’s lonely attendance was that he and his missus are splitting up.

Maybe he's decided that he likes girls after all. 

 

In contrast, Mrs Trump looked absolutely lovely, dignified, graceful and stylish, as ever. The weird thing is that her stepdaughter, Ivanka, looks very like her. How did that happen?

My Democrat relative (I know, don't judge), tells me that when she was a teenager, Donald Trump ordered Ivanka to have plastic surgery. I am sooo jealous. I just got driving lessons.

But didn't the old chap do well? On his feet all day, speechifying, signing all those Executive Orders, then dancing all night. He must be on some very good drugs. And, like me, he’s a TERF. Believes the human race just has two sexes. I don't mind if you want to dress up like a woman, Michelle, but you don't fool me. Who'd have thought? This hasn't gone down too well with lots of people, including Robert Peston,  

who took a deep breath and said, well, that's a difficult opinion. Not an opinion, Bob, it's law.

I refer you to the founder of Call Me Ishmael, who can tell us what to think now that America has led the way:

Donald Trump more or less epitomises the (white) American spirit;  now Trump is the bete noir of luvvies everywhere and what Trumpophobia illustrates is the threadbare, translucent illusion  of our own democracy. 

In striking similarity to their behaviour after our  recent plebiscite, the  liberal fascists now shriek that voting is all very well, a sacred right and duty, of course it is, but only as long as people vote as they are instructed by their betters; the Guardian seeks a new, national rotten borough, in which Organised Crime, celebrities, MediaMinster and  pitiable, howling mutant Transexuals set and maintain the national agenda, and in which the Worthless Normal do as they are told;  a sunny privileged upland, where the smug, braying children of smug, braying parents - who luv'em2bits, me, mykidz -  can, equipped with a degree in illiteracy, innumeracy and physical incompetence,  gap-year around Europe without let or hindrance,  as though they were re-embodied 18th Century gentlemen, instead of pampered, useless fuckwits, GrandTouring, horrid little fucking bastards; national service is what they need, dry stone-walling, caring for the elderly and never mind non-judgemental  gender options. Cunts is what  they are, the New People and their brats, and Donald Trump lights a fire up their arses, how very dare he say these things, and how very dare tens of millions of Americans listen to him and find him Good ? This is not why we discriminate so very studiously and ethically between our coffee beans, making informed consumer choices which leave as small a footprint as possible,  this is not why we bare our arses in a frank and open - as long as people don't swear or question our integrity - frank and open and very serious dialogue on Twitter, so's Americans can vote for who they feel represents them.  I mean, what would the world be like, if people just voted for whom- or what-soever they chose?  That's simply not what democracy's about, not in my book. 

Four million people voted for Farage, last year, and the liberal fascists, instead of hearing a voice other than their own,  mocked the fact that the Kippers managed only one seat in parliament,  this mockery occurring despite the fact that the screechers had, during the last Coalition government,  demanded proportional representation; must've meant   proportional representation for metrosexual, dog-shooting, gender-spectruming  liberals, but FPTP for those dwelling in Northern.

Meantime, we call Donald Trump names. Sure, he is a completely loathsome human being but he has never, unlike our own politicians, sat at the United Nations, lying his ugly face off, promoting a holocaustal, profiteering war, entirely on manufactured grounds, largely invented by a worthless, drunken pornographer.

Spot the dangerous maniac. Whoops, they're both dangerous maniacs.

Donald Trump has never, to the best of my knowledge, anyway, colluded in decades of child-raping by his constituents, just as long as they voted for his party.

He has never served time for stealing from the taxpayer, whilst covering-up that same widespread child abuse.

 Denis MacShane: "I was too much of a 'liberal leftie' and should have done more to investigate child abuse". Former Rotherham MP admits he could have done more to "burrow into" the problem in his constituency, but insists, as do they all, that he never done nothing wrong.

 Donald Trump, as far as I know, has never used a government position to tout for illegal business. 

Yes, I can, quite improperly, and yes, probably illegally,  interfere in the workings of foreign countries, in order to get you what you want. Yes, only five grand a half-day. 

 

A blowjob, yes, I can do that, too. 
Here, in parliament. Yes, of course.
 Would you like me to keep the braces on?  Yes, I am minded, myself, to say they are rather fetching.

Donald Trump has never, to my knowledge, repeatedly lied to his legislature, to the police or to the Courts of his nation, nor shifted blame  to his wife for an offence which he committed.

But this cunt has.

Donald Trump has never falsely claimed taxpayer-funded expenses.

But these cunts have.

Donald Trump has never, to my knowledge,  accepted huge bribes from dictators and tyrants.

  

 But these cunts have.

Donald Trump has never, to my knowledge, waged massive and wholly illegal wars of aggression and plunder on the civilians of  other nation states.

 

 Like Iraq.

Or Libya.

But these cunts have.

Donald Trump, to the best of my knowledge, has never practised military-strength, murderous racism against his fellow citizens.

Nor maintained, offshore, throughout eight dark, cruel years, an obscene torture facility which he had promised to close.

Yes, you can't.

But this cunt did. 

I don't know, therefore, what is so bad about Donald Trump.  Sure he's a bully, an uncouth lout,  a rabble rouser, possibly, like everyone in MediaMinster who voted for Iraq, a rotten racist;  his behaviour in Scotland, under the auspices of Alec Fatman, 

Aye, I give him your land and he gives me my money.

was and continues to be despicable, reprehensible, and cowardly;  the man is  a horrible fucking bastard, his wives are baggages and  his children look and sound like mutants.

But as for him dividing America, that's already been accomplished; as for him impoverishing America, that's already been accomplished,  too; as for him making America despised, worldwide, that's already been accomplished and as for him starting World War Three, well that was started years ago by these rotten fucking bastards. 

For services rendered to the shareholders in GlobaDeath. I mean, to the Merkin people.

 

If Donald Trump prays to Satan five times daily, drinks sacrificed infants' blood and appoints a team to identify very, very  bad things for him to do, at home and abroad, he wouldn't cause a fraction of the damage wrought by his recent criminal predecessors on both sides of the Atlantic.  

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

Returning to the present from our foray into mr ishmael's amazingly prescient vision of our current global situation, Rachel Wood has been doing the rounds of the politics programmes.

Back from Davos, where she and her boss, Keir Wood,

failed to impress because everyone else, apart from the Dwarf Zelesky, had gone to the Inauguration; the first woman Chancellor of Britain's Exchequer has been telling everyone that she is going to grow the economy, because of the Black Hole.

Laura Nose: "But what are you actually going to do, Chancellor?"

Rachel Wood: "I'm going to grow the economy."

Laura Nose: " But you are not, are you? The increase in National Insurance and the Inheritance Tax on farmers is crashing the economy, putting up the price of food, causing the supermarkets to sack their workers and clogging up London with protesting tractors."

Rachel Wood: "Yes, I'm growing the economy. It's early days yet, I've inherited a Black Hole and I'm the first female Chancellor of the Exchequer, did I mention it?"

Laura Nose: "Fuck off and Die, Chancellor. You are giving women a bad name."

Do you think she knows what she's doing?

No, me neither.

Being tired all the time, I thought I must have an under-achieving thyroid, so I bought some stimulating supplement from t'internet, but the Doctor said no, no, no, your bloods is fine. So I guess it's just a hangover. 

Storm Eowyn - it never rains but it pours.

Don't forget your copy of one of the four splendid anthologies of the writings of mr ishmael and stanislav, the young Polish Plumber. Or buy the set as a luxurious indulgence for yourself or as a gift for a broad-minded friend. The anthologies have been compiled and produced by editor mr verge, the house filthster, in answer to the appalled and bereft reaction of ishmaelites to the passing of mr ishmael in January 2020.  

You can buy the Quartet 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.

In Memoriam

 

Ishmael Smith, 1950 to 23rd January 2020

Writer, Satirist and Blogger

Much missed.

"Call me Ishmael.... whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth and it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then I quietly take to the ship." 

Moby Dick, Herman Melville

Across the dark seas of night to the bright shores of morning, mr ishmael, with all your good boys: Harris, gentleman of Lanarkshire, Buster minal, Barney Look Who's Barking, the Emperor Rocky Woo and Frankie Sweetheart.

The Sunday Ishmael: 19/01/2025

The Beeb and, doubtless, news agencies from around the world had flocked to Gaza for 6.00am to capture the jubilating as Hamas won the war. There was a teensy bit of jubilating, but bombs continued to fall because the frigging stupid Hamas leadership couldn't or wouldn't come up with the names of the three hostages they are releasing today. They eventually did - found 3 live ones out of the 94 believed to be still held by Hamas, and the ceasefire became effective from 9.00am. So Israel has lost again, its borders still threatened by enemies implacably and ideologically opposed to the very existence of  Jews living in their own country. All the ululating and pro-Hamas news coverage by the West has won this battle of the existential and anti-Semitic war waged against a legally-constituted, democratic, Western nation by a pack of mediaeval, misogynistic god-botherers for the last 76 years.

Hey Ho.

But, mrs ishmael, how can you apostrophise this as a victory for Hamas? The humanitarian disaster visited upon innocent civilians - women, children and hospital patients in an Armageddon-style over-retaliation by the bad wicked demonic Israel Defence Forces?

Oh do fuck off. There aren't any innocent civilians in Gaza. They voted Hamas in, and next time, they will vote them in again. They have nurtured terrorists in their bosoms and their cellars, and celebrated with the firing into the air of weapons and extreme jubilation the precipitating raid on Israel; the rape, mutilation and murder of Israeli citizens and the abduction and continued detention of 251 people in October 2023. 251 people, of which 94 are still unaccounted for but only 60 are believed to be alive.

Just look at the deal and tell me that Hamas hasn't won:

1. Hamas gets 30 Palestinian prisoners for releasing only 1 civilian hostage unlawfully kidnapped and held since October 2023.
2. Hamas gets 50 Palestinian prisoners for the release of only 1 female Israeli soldier they have imprisoned.
3. Israel will release all Palestinian women and children under 19 detained since Oct. 7, 2023 by end of the first phase. The total number of Palestinians released will depend on hostages released. 
4. Hamas will release 33 hostages over the next 6 weeks, including today's 3 hostages, starting with the living ones and followed by the remains of those who have died in Hamas imprisonment. That leaves 61 hostages in Hamas imprisonment.
5. Hamas will tell the International Red Cross where in Gaza they will release the hostages and the Red Cross will collect them.
6. The implementation of the agreement will be guaranteed by Qatar, Egypt and the United States.
7. On day 16 further negotiations will begin in an attempt to secure the release of all the remaining hostages seized in October 2023, all Israeli soldiers held by Hamas, the complete withdrawal from Gaza of all Israeli soldiers, and a permanent ceasefire. Best of luck with that one.
8. This will be followed by the return of the remaining dead and the reconstruction of Gaza. This is expected to cost in the region of  $80 billion. No-one is very keen on paying this - both in Europe and the U.S. decision-makers are questioning why they should fork out again to rebuild infrastructure which is only going to be bombed again, cynically accepting that Hamas will regroup and start all over again. In December, Gideon Rachman, chief foreign affairs commentator, wrote in the Financial Times: " I have heard senior E.U. officials say unequivocally that Europe will not pay for the reconstruction of Gaza. The sums of money required by Ukraine are already mind-boggling. The U.S. Congress seems to be turning against all forms of foreign assistance."

Well, it's surely not going to be us? Britain, that is? Nothing to do with us. Mind you, the Ukraine/Russian war is nothing to do with us, but that hasn't stopped our leaders pouring money we can ill afford into Ukraine. We have an NHS that cannot provide for the basic medical needs of the British people, let alone fund luxurious whimsical fripperies like  gender re-assignment surgery (otherwise known as chopping off perfectly healthy bits because the owner has taken against them - why isn't it called Body Integrity Identity Disorder - you know, where people take a chainsaw to their leg?) or getting women pregnant when nature said no, no, no - during the 1970's and '80's, Dr David Cline, a fertility specialist in Indiana, inseminated dozens of women with his own sperm without their knowledge or consent - presumably they thought the sperm was from some other chap, or God or something. 94 people have been identified as his bastards. Netflix made a documentary about it called Our Father. And there's all these abandoned homeless children living on the streets of all the cities in India - hundreds of thousands of them. They could benefit from a nice home in Indiana. Like rescue dogs - better to give an existing one a home, rather than commission a new one. Planetary resources and all that.

So, certainly not Britain. Although the U.K. Government doesn't seem to understand that when you are so skint you can't fund the NHS, the population is in such poverty that Food Banks were needed by 3.12 million people in 2022/23 and "Warming Centres" are being set up to stop pensioners freezing to death in their homes; then supporting the Dwarf Zelensky in his mission to retain the presidency of Ukraine in perpetuity is maybe a luxury too far. However, the U.K.'s website boasts:

"Russia’s illegal invasion of Ukraine poses a serious threat to UK prosperity and security. We are proud to be a leading partner in providing vital support to Ukraine. In total, the UK has committed £12.8 billion for Ukraine:

£7.8 billion in military support

£5 billion in non-military support."

Have you noticed how the Government has dropped its full stops? It is mistaken if it considers this a triumph for the Plain English campaign. UK without its full stops becomes a standalone word, to be pronounced uck, rather than an acronym that stands for something. Oh, wait - yes, well.

So, no, not poverty-stricken Britain that no longer stands for anything. I know! Iran! Ask them - they've got loads of money and anyway, they started it.

 

I should say that this is not a position that mr ishmael held on the conflicts in the Middle East. He was appalled by the slaughter, by the destruction of war and by the involvement of global powers pursuing their national interests in the never-ending war. But unless this pattern is to continue - have a bit of a war, make a mess, clean it up and then start again, something different is needed. The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. Turns out Einstein didn't say that - the advice seems to have turned up in A.A. meetings (drunks, not cars). I understand this, speaking as a life-long fan of the cup that cheers and my unfailing next-day disappointment - what, a hangover again?

Onto other things.

I was amused by this little snippet of historical idiocy turned up by editor mr verge.

Did you know that, according to the Roman Catholic Church, decadent and corrupting pointy shoes were responsible for the Black Death? In 1348, London fell prey to the plague, which killed around 40,000 people - almost half of the city's population. The Church advised that this was in consequence of the "impropriety of the behaviour of men" . These corrupting disease-vector shoes had been around for a long time. In his History of the Church, written in around 1100,  Orderic Vitalis, a Benedictine monk, condemned the wearing of long-toed shoes.

"A debauched fellow named Robert was the first, about the time of William Rufus, who introduced the practice of filling the long points of the shoes with tow (the fibre of flax, hemp or jute) and of turning them up like a ram's horn. This absurd fashion was speedily adopted by a great number of the nobility as a proud distinction and sign of merit. Our wanton youths are sunk in effeminacy."

Despite the censure of Orderic, the fashion was resilient.

The London Museum advises that young men would "stand on street corners wiggling their shoes suggestively" at people walking by. Bells were sewn to the ends of the points, to tinkle merrily during the shoe-wiggling, indicating that the wearer was up for it.

The London Museum has examples with toe points longer than 10cm, while a monk at Evesham Abbey claimed in 1394 that he had seen people wear them "half a yard (45cm) in length. It was necessary for them to be tied to the shin with chains of silver" to enable walking.

 "They insert their toes in things like serpents' tails which present to view the shape of scorpions... They give themselves up to sodomitic filth", with "long luxurious locks like women," and "over-tight shirts and tunics".

In 1463 Edward IV passed a sumptuary law to stop anyone lower in rank than lord to wear shoes longer than two inches in the points. 

People found to be of too low a rank to have an extremely long point could be fined, and "any cordwainer or cobbler within the city of London or within three miles of any part of the same city" was banned from supplying or making them for people of insufficient nobility.

Londoners, eh? What are they like?

A study in 2005 of medieval remains found hallux valgus - a small deformity of the big toe with a bony protrusion at its base, more commonly known as bunions. And a 2021 study found that those who lived in more fashionable neighbourhoods during the height of the poulaine (pointy shoe)  fashion were far more likely to have bunions, misshapen feet, and bone fractures in the arms associated with  falling injuries due to the mediaeval equivalent of rent boy suits.

Get the London look.

Don't forget your copy of one of the four splendid anthologies of the writings of mr ishmael and stanislav, the young Polish Plumber. Or buy the set as a luxurious indulgence for yourself or as a gift for a broad-minded friend. The anthologies have been compiled and produced by editor mr verge, the house filthster, in answer to the appalled and bereft reaction of ishmaelites to the passing of mr ishmael in January 2020.  

You can buy the Quartet 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.

Is there something we've not been told?