The Sunday Ishmael: 30/08/2026

 In breaking news today, Chancellor John Healey calls for his own resignation.

No, I insist. I was very firm on the 11th June 2026 - just two and a half months ago, after former Prime Minister Starmer failed to commit 3% of GDP to Defence, when I firmly wrote to him in the firmest possible terms: 

"the demands on defence have increased still further, as have the UK commitments you have rightly made to allies. Conflict in the Middle East, with the UK now leading the multinational Strait of Hormuz military mission; High North security, with the UK now leading NATO's Arctic Sentry mission; increased Russian activity towards the UK and NATO nations and increased attacks in Ukraine, with the Paris Agreement confirming a British deployment to Ukraine after a ceasefire........ the pressure of operations and imperative to speed up readiness to fight is in the first two years and it rises to just 2.68% of GDP in 2030, when we will reach 2.6% next year with the investment we are already making.

Important walking, with clipboard.

"You spelled out the threats last week: "It is our intelligence assessment, and the assessment of other countries in NATO, that there could be an attack by Russia on NATO as soon as 2030.

After explaining to you that I would not be able to accept a DIP settlement that does not give our Forces the resources they need, I am now left with no other option than to submit my resignation as your Defence Secretary."

Now that Prime Minister Burnham has kindly rewarded my commitment to increase Defence spending to 3% of GDP by elevating me to the Chancellorship of the Exchequer, I find myself totally unable to commit 3% of GDP to Defence, although, I hasten to add, the international situation has considerably worsened since last I wrote. Russia has declared that UK is an unfriendly nation and has withdrawn her Ambassador.  Iran shut down a British power plant for four days last month, marking the first known successful Iranian cyberattack on UK energy infrastructure. And 
Royal Navy forces tracked a group of Russian warships during an "intense" 72-hour operation through the English Channel by Type 45 destroyer HMS Duncan, Type 23 frigate HMS St Albans and patrol vessel HMS Severn. Surveillance was expanded near the Strait of Dover using a Merlin helicopter, as Russian destroyer Admiral Levchenko was observed escorting sanctioned cargo ships General Skobelev and Sparta.  Russia responded to the operation by dispatching extra military assets, including the frigate Neustrashimy. 

First Sea Lord General Sir Gwyn Jenkins said there was “no room for complacency” as shadow fleet vessels continue to pose “an unacceptable risk” to maritime security and the environment.

It is with a heavy heart, therefore, that I call upon myself to resign.

Labour spokespersons rushed to their nearest media outlet. "Much has been done", they stated. "We have improved soldier's houses. Now that cost money, but we grudge nothing in terms of interior design decisions. And Andy Burnham visited Kyiv, where he announced Britain would provide Ukraine with blueprints for long-range Scalp missiles. Thus increasing their capacity to give Russia a bloody nose. What do you mean, that has enraged the Kremlin?

 Really?

Which has spent the week escalating threats to the UK.

"Well nobody could have anticipated that, right?"

Time for the charity shop, John. After all, you are 66.

Talking of charity shops, I tried to join the local library the other day. The place was swarming with people, all of a certain age and amplitude, but no one was at the desk. I waited for the librarian to emerge from the rear quarters. I searched the desk for a bell. Quite some time later, when I was thinking of going away, one woman, wearing a name badge on a lanyard declaring her to be 'Mary'  noticed me standing at the desk and asked: 
"What do you want?". 
"To join the library," I said. 
She looked dumb-founded. 
"Mhairi",  she called, "There's someone here wants to join the library. Can you do it?"
 Mhairi huffed and puffed, came to the desk, looked helplessly at the computer, then shouted for Marie. They all had name badges and it dawned on me that all these people were not customers in the sense of being library users.  Marie tried. She entered my name and address into the computer, asked me to invent a PIN, helpfully advising me to go with my date of birth, but then got stuck with the data entry. Fortunately, there were two very large ring binders, with Volunteer Manual emblazoned on the spine. Marie earnestly consulted the ring binders. 
"Maybe you could delete the whole thing and start again?" I suggested. 
"Oh, no, I'm locked out now". 
At this point, a real person wandered in from the street, drawn in by a display stand containing jam, and hand-embroidered cushions. Pretty pots of jam, all with fabric jam pot covers with pinked edges. She said, "Is there any Marmalade?" One of the Marys said, "Oh no," but the only man in the library bustled forwards helpfully and said, with some triumph, having rooted about amidst the pretty jam pots: "Here's one that looks like the right colour for marmalade." Whereupon the Mary snapped, "That's Marrow and Ginger, that is. Not Marmalade."
The customer bought the Marrow and Ginger and left without giving the books a second glance. The Man, quite cheered by the success of his heroic interventional sales pitch, now turned his attention to the stalled computer. He did the business with the computer and issued me with my library card. 
"We're all volunteers", he explained. 
"Really? Helping the librarian? Is she on her lunch break?"
"No, there are no professional librarians any more. Library staffing budgets were cut around 2014 to 2017 and small libraries were told they could only stay open if volunteers ran them. We are a Community Library and have to raise our own funding."
"Selling jam and cushions."
"Yes. And books. There's a rack outside of books for 10 pence each. I'll show you around."
The Man had clearly decided, the moment he rescued the computer system, that he was now my guide, my escort, my personal librarian and possibly my future husband. He proceeded to give me the full tour of a room the size of my sitting room, as if unveiling the treasures of the Bodleian. That’s classic volunteer‑library courtship behaviour.
"Would you like to become a volunteer?" asked the Man, lingering by a shelf of  A-G. 
"Looks like you've got more than enough volunteers," I responded.
Just then, Mary rounded the book case, with an armful of books, having overheard the suggestion and said: "Oh, pay him no mind. He's such a salesman. So I replied, "Yes, he's just selling me a bridge". Whereupon the volunteer lady looked very puzzled indeed. "What do you mean?" 
"It's a joke" I said. Whereupon the Man explained, at tedious length, to the lady, whose intervention into our tête a tête was prompted, I suspect, by her own designs upon his person, all about someone selling London Bridge......... Rapidly tiring of this, and clearly wanting me off the premises, Mary asked if I was there for something specific. There was a hand-written poster, listing the top 10 popular authors that month. William Boyd was up there, so I said, meekly, yes, William Boyd. Mary sprinted away and  returned triumphantly with four enormous hardbacks. 
“It’s all we’ve got of his. I'll explain the check out system.”
The system turned out to be a supermarket self-service check out desk. I expected it to say "Unexpected Boyd in the bagging area."
And there I was, staggering out of the building with an armful of William Boyd.
I don't know if I dare go back, transgressive that I am, with my metropolitan joke about selling bridges, my expectation that there would be a professional librarian who could efficiently deal with my entirely reasonable request to join the library, my having disrupted the hierarchy and flirtations of an off-shoot of the whole Jam and Jerusalem, Women's Institute, over-priced-charity shop culture.
What the hell happened to Britain's libraries? How did they dare to cut budgets to the bone?  The trained librarians went, and with them went cataloguing expertise, membership processing skills, customer service consistency, the ability to troubleshoot the council’s library software, knowledge and expertise. More than 180 council-run libraries have either closed or been handed over to volunteer groups in the UK since 2016.

Was it worth it? 

 The money they saved on the cuts - what did they spend it on ? Was it worth destroying the jewel of the crown?

In the Library 

by Charles Simic

There’s a book called
A Dictionary of Angels.
No one had opened it in fifty years,
I know, because when I did,
The covers creaked, the pages
Crumbled. There I discovered
The angels were once as plentiful
As species of flies.
The sky at dusk
Used to be thick with them.
You had to wave both arms
Just to keep them away.
Now the sun is shining
Through the tall windows.
The library is a quiet place.
Angels and gods huddled
In dark unopened books.
The great secret lies
On some shelf Miss Jones
Passes every day on her rounds.
She’s very tall, so she keeps
Her head tipped as if listening.
The books are whispering.
I hear nothing, but she does.

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

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.

The Sunday Ishmael: 23/08/2026

  Russia has withdrawn her ambassador to the United Kingdom. 

This is serious shit. It is not a total catastrophe - ambassadorial staff remain and diplomatic affairs are now being handled by the chargé d'affaires, Vasily A Tsyganov. But it is pretty bad. 

I liked Andrey Kelin - he looked like a cross between a teddy bear and a benign grandad and generally kept his temper when being goaded by Laura Kuenssberg. He very quietly left London last month after seven years as ambassador, and will not be replaced.  Kelin worked hard to preserve channels of communication with Britain to little avail, eventually accusing the government of choosing a “path of confrontation” with Russia. A calm and sensible senior diplomat, he will be a loss. An embassy spokesman said that: “He left Britain in the hope that a more constructive and respectful dialogue could eventually be restored, should the UK reconsider its policies towards our country.” 

Russia has named Britain as a nation unfriendly to Russia and last week warned of  “consequences” after it emerged that Britain is supplying attack drones to Kyiv. The embassy spokesperson added that the Kremlin had concluded Kelin’s diplomatic mission on 21 July. “As for the state of Russia-UK relations across all areas, they have deteriorated to an unprecedentedly low level entirely on London’s initiative,” they added.

You can blame the T-Shirt Wankers for this deplorable business. 

Frickin' amateurs.

When the Dwarf Zelensky popped over to Portsmouth on the 27th July for a chat with Prime Minister Burn'em, he was assured that the UK could be counted on “for as long as it takes. Volodymyr, you are the first leader I have welcomed in person since taking office, and that is no accident. It is intended to send a very clear message: we are with Ukraine 100 per cent, I am personally with you 100 per cent, and I will honour every commitment this country has made to Ukraine in full.”

Jesus. That's us stuffed, then. 

Burn'em told his new chum that Britain would hand over the intellectual property behind its new “Stone Cloak” electronic warfare system, which blocks Russian detection of the drones to which it is fitted. The Ministry of Defence has already given thousands of the jammers to Ukrainian forces to bolster their drone operations, and now they can make their own.

And we see where this recklessness has led us - right onto Putin's hit list. I have always failed to understand the government's partisanship of Ukrainian interests. Apparently Churchill did not say "Why should I care if one bunch of wops kills another bunch of wops?". But Boris Johnson should have. And Starmer. And Burnham. A little realpolitik would be useful here - instead of all the cock waving. 

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

Like the band playing aboard the sinking Titanic, music keeps the spirits up and the Proms 2026 season has some good stuff. I generally forget to watch TV, so it was just my luck that when I did decide to catch something of this year's Proms, this is what greeted me:

Some shouty black men singing old pop songs. At the Proms. 

Really.

 Marvin Gaye in the flesh was bad enough, but this tribute nonsense - in the Royal Albert Hall, where mr ishmael and I once sang the Messiah in a massed choir event - well, it really took the biscuit. What would Victoria have said? 

Here's the Beeb's spiel: "The world’s greatest classical music festival pays tribute to soul icon Marvin Gaye with a night of hits including I Heard It Through the Grapevine, What’s Going On and Sexual Healing. The BBC Concert Orchestra lead the celebrations under the baton of Edwin Outwater, featuring the silky vocals of American singer Luke James alongside other special guests. Presented by Andi Oliver from the Royal Albert Hall." 

Just to remind you that the Soul Icon was shot and killed by his dad with the gun that Marvin had bought him, in a Suicide-by-Dad goading event.

Quite ignoring Noel Coward's encomium:  “Extraordinary how potent cheap music is,”  I went off to bed in a huff.

I was listening to Radio 3 in the kitchen when the chap who had come to replace my meters with smart meters asked: "Do you like this music?" Radio 3 was playing a particularly vile, unpleasant and bombastic modern piece at the time, so I asked for more clues: "What, this piece?" The meter guy had one of those comedy Yorkshire accents, but I worked out that he meant classical music in general, so I assured him that I do. Emboldened, he then asked if I liked Andrew Roo, because he really liked him and had gone to see him live in Leeds. A little confusion ensued, before realisation dawned that Andrew Roo is this gentleman:

Cautiously, not wanting to give offence, I replied: "He's quite the showman, isn't he?"

Taking this as enthusiastic approbation, my new chum told me all about his Leeds experience, how he'd been transported with delight, how he and the wife had tears in their eyes, how I should certainly go if I had the opportunity, and when he goes on tours, Andrew Roo has more trucks than the Rolling Stones. Well, I should think so. He has a full orchestra, then there's all the costumes, singers, dancers and wigs.

My new chum, fellow classical music buff, told me I can watch lots of Andrew Roo on Youtube. You may have noticed I'm a bit of a music snob - but I confess to having watched Roo on Sky Arts occasionally. He certainly is a showman, and, despite the razzmatazz, quite the musician and conductor.

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

Hiding in plain sight: Anagram Corner, courtesy of editor mr. verge.

Have you come across the work of BF Skinner, behaviourist?

 His core findings on operant conditioning remain foundational in psychology, education, behavioural therapy, and animal training. 

Skinner’s work on reinforcement, schedules of reward, and operant conditioning is still accepted as valid. He developed his theories through experimentation on rats and pigeons, which he placed in what he called Operant Conditioning Chambers (“Skinner boxes”), where the animal or bird pressed levers or pecked keys to receive food or water and taught them to avoid certain behaviours by delivering electric shocks. Such experimentation would be considered deeply unethical today.

Anyway, Skinner's full name was Burrhus Frederic Skinner. Which anagrams to: "re: bird-fucker's inner rush" 

Nominative determinism, or what?

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

Courtesy of editor mr verge, the house filthster, four splendid anthologies of the writings of stanislav and mr ishmael may be purchased for mere money. 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.

Ishmaelites 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.

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

Given the state of international relations, you are unlikely to see the Red Army Choir and Ensemble in real life - but Youtube yields more than Andrew Roo - here's Kalinka.

The Sunday Ishmael: 16/08/2026

 Disgraced Former Cambridge Professor: Death by Embarrassment.

"Under the circumstances", opines unnamed pundit, "on balance, it was the best available option, given the joblessness, being a national laughing stock, no longer being the poster boy for Cambridge's enlightened policies of appointing under-qualified Bleck people into prestigious professorial posts, and utterly failing as a role model for the less than privileged."

"What with the make-up, the ludicrous hairstyles

and the cissy clothes," mused the pundit, "let alone the constant stream of bull shit and copying other people's homework, he definitely did the right thing."

"But, Mr. Pundit, whatever happened to not speaking ill of the dead?"

" That, mrs. ishmael, is a primitive superstition, originally developed in Foreign Countries, probably sub Saharan, to ward off the evil spirit of the deceased who would wreak horrible revenge if it caught you saying nasty things about it. I'm not a Voodoo practitioner, and I resent the implication. Nope, the chap was an Arsehole and did the Right Thing."

"What of his grieving family, Mr. Pundit? Prime Minister No-Tie Burnham says it is a tragedy."

"He has to say that, comes with the job. The family are well rid. They've been living under the Damoclesian Sword ever since Arday learned to talk - when he was 11, he claimed, and first started spouting rubbish. Shame his mother never said, 'now, don't be silly, dear'. But there it is. Anyway, he's a better provider dead than alive - the  Go Fund Me page set up by Windrush busy-body Sir Patrick Vernon, has already raised £65,000 to help cover funeral costs for Mr Arday's family. Fuck's sake, what sort of a funeral is that going to be?"

"An expensive one, Mr. Pundit."

"Too right, mrs ishmael. No wheeling the body round to the local Crem. No, there'll be weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. Making a show of themselves. Just as if he wasn't a lying fantasist." 

"Bit harsh?"

"With due respect, dear lady, utter bollocks. The first doubts about Jason Arsehole's academic qualifications were raised as early as May 2023 by Dave Harris, an emeritus professor at Plymouth Marjon University, who noticed that passages in one of Arday’s journal articles resembled another scholar’s work. Harris worked with sociologist Martyn Hammersley, to identify substantial unattributed borrowing across several publications. By September 2025, Jack Grove, a reporter at Times Higher Education, had assembled a sixty-three-page dossier of side-by-side text comparisons involving Arday’s doctoral thesis and journal articles. David Sanders, a Purdue University biochemist and veteran plagiarism sleuth who reviewed the dossier, stated: 'There is no question that there is extensive plagiarism”.  Grove wrote to Arday for comment, whereupon Arday hired Carter-Fuck, the famously-feared defamation firm, and Times Higher Education did not run the exposé. Weirdly, the Metropolitan Police then contacted Grove and warned him against approaching Arday, citing concerns for the professor’s mental health. 

In June this year, Nathan Cofnas — an American-born philosopher now at Ghent University in Belgium, who had lost his own Cambridge affiliation in 2024 over writings in which he described himself as a “race realist” and argued that under pure meritocracy Black people would “disappear from almost all high-profile positions” — was contacted by a Cambridge faculty member and began running Arday’s thesis through plagiarism-detection software . His Substack posts, published in June and July, alleged dozens of passages lifted from a 2009 dissertation by education scholar Paula Zwozdiak-Myers, sometimes with the original’s editing quirks still intact. Daniel McCarthy, writing later in The Daily Signal, catalogued still more: a claimed appearance in the “Seven Up” documentary series, which began filming twenty-one years before Arday was born, and, as McCarthy recounts it, a disarming reply Arday reportedly gave a Guardian fact-checker — “To be honest with you, I thought you’d just believe me”.

 Arday’s professional biography listed a guest professorship at The Ohio State University’s Office of Diversity and Inclusion. Ohio State said it had no record of him. A university spokesman said they had “no record of an employee by that name” and that “visiting professors appear in our employment records”.  Further, the DEI office where he claimed to work had been closed the previous year amid the federal government’s pressure campaign against such programs. Days later, Cambridge announced its investigation into his “qualifications and honorary appointments.” 

Professor  Arday promptly resigned. In his defence, he blamed his apparent plagiarism on his autism, saying he absorbs information through mimicry. His failure to adequately defend his thesis - he didn't seem to understand it - he attributed to very recent brain surgery to remove a benign brain tumour. Defending a thesis is a key requirement for completing a graduate degree, such as a master’s or PhD.  The defense allows faculty members to assess whether the student thoroughly understands their research, methodology, and the broader context of their work.

 

Arday's personal claim that he had run 600 miles in six days for charity was preposterous ( he later corrected it, saying it took 12 days) and has admitted that he did not single-handedly raise £5.5m for charity but was part of a syndicate of around 100 people, none of whom he can name because he signed a non-disclosure agreement. Oh, and his complaint that a severed pig's head had been delivered to his family home as a racist insult, occupied police time in investigating the untrue allegation."

"Thank you, Mr. Pundit. You've convinced me. Disgraced Former Professor Arday was an Arsehole. But Professor Simon Baron-Cohen of the  Departments of Psychology and Psychiatry at the University of Cambridge, Fellow at Trinity College, Cambridge, Director of the Autism Research Centre in Cambridge, which he set up in 1997, and brother of Sacha Baron-Cohen,

well, Simon says that Jason was autistic and that autistic people are very prone to suggestion and that he killed himself because someone suggested it to him."

"Jolly good, mrs ishmael, jolly good." 

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

Fat Cocks

There's no news in women getting lip fillers, unless some celebrity's trout pout bursts, of course. The psychological and economic drive is fairly straight forward - the need to attract and retain a mate drives some women to have filler injected into their lips in order to mimic aroused vulvar lips. Gross, I know. But blokes wanting fat cocks? Having hyaluronic acid injected into the shaft and head of the penis? Paying  up to £3,500 to have your penis injected with hyaluronic acid three times - on the top and on either side? The hyaluronic acid filler is delivered through a cannula that enters at the base and travels along the length of the shaft. The filler is then massaged to give an even look, which the patient continues as home. You wouldn't want a lumpy cock, now.

Of course it's dangerous - infection, necrosis, cocks turning black. It only lasts 9 months then you have to go back for more. And it isn't just a gay thing. The prevalence of internet porn seems to have convinced some blokes that big fat cocks are the very definition of masculinity. 

Another tale of Ruin. 

West Midlands and Prime Minister No-Tie Burn'em

Britain has been burning, thanks to a nice hot summer and humans lighting fires. And no, it is definitely Not climate change, contrary to the BBC stating that the hot summer weather this year has been caused by climate change brought about by the use of fossil fuels, every time they report on a wildfire or deaths caused by idiots jumping into cold water. It is far more serious than that, because there is nothing to be done about it. I refer you to mr mongoose's previous dissertations on the Greenland ice cores. The sun's activity is not regulated by coal-powered anything. Indeed, it could be argued that because of a reduction of pollutants in the atmosphere, more sunshine is getting through. 

 Prime Minister Burn'em expressed horror at the situation, describing the country as a "tinderbox" due to extreme heat and dry conditions that have worsened the wildfire risk. He sent a very alarming noise through my mobile phone the other evening, along with a text message, telling me not to have a barbecue. He went to Stourbridge, which has had a really bad time; without his tie on, to demonstrate sincerity, sympathy, being a man of the people and being hot, too.

The burnt out remains of houses in the Quarry Park Road area of Stourbridge (Peter Byrne/PA)

 He issued statements emphasizing that:

• His thoughts are with those affected, including the injured and those evacuated from their homes.
• Firefighters are operating in extremely challenging conditions and putting themselves at risk.
• He is in regular contact with local leaders and emergency services, including West Midlands Mayor Richard Parker, to coordinate support and resources 
• He extended gratitude to all personnel supporting firefighting efforts and urged the public to stay safe and follow official advice.

So that's alright. 

He's going to compensate the farmers whose crops and fields have been burnt to bits. It works out at approximately £300 each. Britain's food security is being made a mockery of. 

Not too late to get some tatties in - you'll be harvesting new potatoes for your Christmas dinner.

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

Courtesy of editor mr verge, the house filthster, four splendid anthologies of the writings of stanislav and mr ishmael may be purchased for mere money. 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.

Ishmaelites 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.

God's own county.

The Sunday Ishmael: 09/08/2026

 Now that the MPs are on holiday, we have to manage with the crap political commentary shows on Sunday. No more "Eh up, Laura" as Madame Kuenssberg is not gracing Sunday mornings on the Beeb. Instread, over on GB news, the direst of channels, we have Michael - "I'm ready for my spanking now, headmaster", Portillo. 

Seriously, what was he wearing? And why? Surely not? 

No, no, mrs ishmael, you mistake a certain flamboyance of costume for arse-banditry, hide-the-sausage-in-the gravy games and such like- (ed).

Flamboyance of costume? The man wears red corduroy trousers! And lilac jackets!

  In an interview with The Times given in 1999, Portillo said that "I had some homosexual experiences as a young person."  Lord Tebbit harrumphed a bit at that, accusing Portillo of lying about the extent of his sexual deviance. Now that we are all liberal and understanding and signed up to all manner of hide the sausage life-style choices, such predilections matter not a jot. But back in the past, which we know is a foreign country where they insisted on doing things differently, the Great British Public found that a self-confessed sexual adventurer was not to their taste at all and Portillo faded away from political life, having lost his previously safe Conservative Enfield Southgate seat at the 1997 general election, in a "Portillo moment". He wriggled back into the Commons in the 1999 by-election in Kensington and Chelsea, but got a bloody nose when he stood for leadership of the Conservatives in 2001, achieving only third place behind Iain Duncan Smith and Kenneth Clarke. He retired from the House of Commons and from active politics at the 2005 general election, and took up a career travelling in trains for the telly. And wearing strange clothes.

Portillo obtained one of those really useful  first-class degrees in history from the University of Cambridge, of course, before joining the Conservative Research Department (CRD). He was a junior minister under both Margaret Thatcher and John Major, before being appointed Chief Secretary to the Treasury in 1992, then being promoted to Secretary of State for Employment in 1994. He was subsequently promoted to Secretary of State for Defence, where he pressed for a course of "clear blue water" to separate the policies of the Tories from those of the Labour Party.

Thinking about Portillo's infamy always leads one to Diane Abbott, his chum. Indeed, he had a project in mind to film Macbeth casting himself as Macduff and Diane as Lady Macduff. Didn't come to anything. For this relief, much thanks.

They spent a lot of time squashed up on a sofa together, on Andrew Neil's political show. Looking back, it was pretty obvious that the viewers were being invited to mock the intellectually-challenged  obese Labour Black Woman and the colourful Conservative- Not-Gayman, by being obliged to sit on a tiny little sofa together. Those were back in Diane's glory days. Before her mouth ran away with her and she gave way to the prevailing anti-semitism of the Labour Party.

Just to remind you of the offence that got her sacked by Starmer, anxious to shake off the whiff of anti-Semitism that has hung about the Labour Party since the Corbyn regime. Diane Lard's views, words, thoughts, indeed, very being, were "deeply offensive and wrong".  As clueless as David Lammy, another Official Black Person,  Diane Abbott wrote to the Observer, espousing unfashionable views about racism. Only Proper Black People, really Black People, can experience racism. Here's the letter: 

"Tomiwa Owolade claims that Irish, Jewish and Traveller people all suffer from “racism” (“Racism in Britain is not a black and white issue. It’s far more complicated”, Comment). They undoubtedly experience prejudice. This is similar to racism and the two words are often used as if they are interchangeable.

It is true that many types of white people with points of difference, such as redheads, can experience this prejudice. But they are not all their lives subject to racism. In pre-civil rights America, Irish people, Jewish people and Travellers were not required to sit at the back of the bus. In apartheid South Africa, these groups were allowed to vote. And at the height of slavery, there were no white-seeming people manacled on the slave ships."

Diane Abbott

House of Commons, London SW1

That's you told, Redheads and Jews.  

Starmer was so enraged that he withdrew her Labour Party membership. Prime Minister Burnham has reinstated her. That's all you need to know about our Andeh. From Northern.

Commentators and journalists (and, therefore, politicians) have been much exercised by the release of the Gov't statistic that 1 in 4 people in Britain today, by their own declaration, are sick or mad. That's nothing. In Stromness Academy, it is over 50% needing extra help. A.S.N. kids. Additional Support Needs. In England they are S.E.N.D. kids. Special Educational Needs and/or Disabilities. Scotland avoids the pejorative "Special" word.  You know what it's like in the playground. Used to be Spaz as a term of abuse. Now it's Special.

 And are they grateful? These  ASN kids? For all this additional support? There are more Assistance for Learning Assistants and teeth-cleaning ladies in Orkney classrooms than there are kids, whether of the ASN  or Normal variety. Not that there are many of the Normal ones. Anyway, the ASN ones with their minders, dropped off by taxis at the school gates, are they grateful?  I had a neighbour who was too busy to take her son to school of a morning, so the social worker had a taxi pick him up each morning. I used to see the taxi driver chasing the gleeful little bastard round the garden before catching him and stuffing him into the taxi for the 6 minute drive to his school. Grateful? Are they fuck. Extra time for exams? I know someone who is an exam assistance provider - has to hold the additionally-needed down to stop them escaping the exam room. And what meaning does a qualification have, when the certificate holder had the question read out to them and their answer transcribed for them? 

One of Burnham's Big Ideas is to introduce parity of esteem between the hard hat and the mortar board. It is a start, laying out clear blue water between himself and Blair's Big Idea to send 50% of the nation's teenagers to Yooni. Hopefully, not the 50% who are Special or A.S.N. . Having admiringly observed the Ishmaeling-in-law's inspired competence in matters plumbing, electrical, decorative, deconstructive, reconstructive and ceramic tile application as he laboured to bring cleanliness and order to the filth and neglect inflicted on my Yorkshire house by its previous owners, Mr. and Mrs. Grubbins, I am of the firm opinion that far from parity of esteem for the hard hat, it deserves top place. Glittering prizes. Respeck for the trades and technical and engineering subjects. As the Ishmaeling-in-law says of himself: "Up here for thinking, down there for dancing." 

I once had a conversation with an elderly chap who was first uncomprehending, then angry when I questioned the relevance of a Classics degree to himself,  to the state, to the betterment of the country or to his ability to earn a living off the back of it. "But it completes one's education, my dear young lady."

 In the Fifties and Sixties, when the state coughed up for tuition and board and lodging for the precious "top" 15% to complete their education funded by the taxes of the working population before demonstrating their superiority by teaching the next generation these same arcane subjects, the cost/benefit ratio favoured these endeavours, and it certainly enabled a very few, very bright working class kids to go to University to be looked down on by the privately educated. I think I may have told you of my soul-searing experience of a posh boy taking my hand in his and remarking to his friend in that very irritating drawl that they affected back then, before a Northern accent became compulsory: "Ah, yes, it is true - they do have hair growing on the backs of their fingers."

Now that they have to pay for their own costs and tuition, students are finding the cost/benefit analysis working out rather differently, especially as there never were enough well-paying jobs for graduates to step into.  I never did understand, back in the day, why students were despised by normal people. When a bloke responded with "University of Life, me", I took it for jealousy. Now I know that trade skills require more knowledge, problem solving and physical ability than the humanities. And the ivory tower. Now, when it has to be paid for by the individual, for the rest of their life, surely the kids will do a little sum in their heads and opt for vocational education. Surely? 

Unless they are black, pretty and really good at saying "critical race theory" a lot. 

Like former Professor Jason Atta Kwei Arday. He was a professor at the University of Cambridge between 2023 and 2026, and resigned following allegations of plagiarism, research falsification, and personal misrepresentation. Jason's amazing, inspiring fabulations, including his claims to autism, mutism, epilepsy, ADHD, marathon running on a broken leg, and the removal of a benign brain tumour eventually raised a little scepticism, but his academic and television career as another Professional Black Person just shows to go you that you can fool a lot of the people a lot of the time. Especially if they are on the Cambridge Appointments Board and have quotas to meet.

Another of Burnham's Big Ideas is to sort out Social Care. Best of luck with that one. Even the Scottish Government, and we know how profligate they are, has had to abandon its plans for a National Care Service, but not before spending  a fuck of a lot of money on consultations, stakeholder involvement, panels, project boards and publishing a lot of papers saying variations on "we will get the right people, at the right time, with the right qualifications in the right place and there will be jobs for the girls". 

People come in shades of  rich, poor and the middling type. Social Care provision is only a problem for the middling types. The wealthy can afford the best care available. Poor people have their care paid for by the State. The middling types are the ones with aspirations to found a dynasty and have the wealth pour down through the generations. Time was, if you could get through to the end without being in debt, paying your way, you could hold your head up on your death bed.  Not now. Now you expect other people to pay for your care so you can leave your assets to  your offspring. Like rich people do. What next? get the taxpayer to stump up for your gardener? The expectation of inherited wealth was another of  Thatcher's Big Ideas. A property owning democracy with wealth flowing down the generations. 

Ah well.

Courtesy of editor mr verge, the house filthster, four splendid anthologies of the writings of stanislav and mr ishmael may be purchased for mere money. 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.

Ishmaelites 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.

And did those feet in ancient times walk upon England's mountains green?