The Sunday Ishmael: 04/08/2024

 

It being a rather lovely Orkney day yesterday - sunshine, no wind, just a mild sea breeze, I took a walk down to the bay. There was dinghy racing, the little boats scudding along with the wind behind them, spinnakers swelling fat, then spilling the wind on the turn, sails just dipping into the sea, then righting themselves, dripping water, as the racers used their best abdominal muscles, hiking out over the waves to rebalance the dinghy. The seaweed floated over the stones in water clear as glass until blurred by a shiver of a wave from the passing of the nearest dinghy.

I was joined by my neighbour, also out enjoying the air. 

"There's too much fighting, don't you think, mrs ishmael?"

"Gosh, yes - Ukraine, Gaza, Lebanon..."

But it turned out that she was thinking about the civil unrest in the north of England.

"They are just spoiling things for the law abiding, mrs ish."

She lives in a neat four bedroom bungalow, surrounded by fuschias, rosa rugosa, honeysuckle and sycamores, with views across the bay, two cars parked in front of the double garage, free range chickens as her nearest neighbours and wide views of the bay with its busy traffic of cruise liners. She doesn't have much of a clue about life in northern English cities - indeed, I doubt she's stepped foot outwith Scotland. But she's scared. She's scared of the fighting encroaching upon her peaceful corner of the world and terrified by the war photos shown nightly by the broadcast media.

I was thinking again about the disgraceful show made by the French of their bloody history for the entertainment of the masses during the Olympic opening ceremony.

The head sang, by the way. Marie Antoinette wore a simple white dress when executed.

Marie Antoinette was born on the 2nd November 1755, the youngest daughter of the Emperor of Austria. She was married at the age of 14 to the 15 year old Dauphin of France, the man who would become Louis XVI in 1774, when he was 20 and she was 19. They were cousins once removed. It was a dynastic marriage - the couple had met only two days before their arranged marriage. They were sheltered, badly educated and naive: the marriage was not  consummated until Louis was 22, when he received sex education from his brother-in-law,  the Holy Roman Emperor Joseph II, who visited France incognito and spoke frankly to Louis, curious as to why the royal marriage had not been  consummated. He concluded that the Queen was not interested in sex and the King was unwilling to exert himself. Joseph wrote to his brother, the Grand Duke of Tuscany, disclosing that Louis had confided in him his approach to doing the deed, saying that the King "introduces the member", but then "stays there without moving for about two minutes", withdraws without having completed the act and "bids goodnight". Following his brother-in-law's instruction, Louis learned that some throb and thrust would result in a kingly emission, and the couple eventually had two daughters, two sons and two miscarriages. Only one child, their eldest daughter, lived to a ripe old age: the others died aged 8, 10 and 1, respectively, causing their parents huge grief.

The French public deeply disliked Marie Antoinette; France and Austria being hereditary enemies, and many libels were circulated about her. Louis was a weak and vacillating King, quite unable to deal with the problems afflicting France: its economy was shattered by involvement in a series of unsuccessful foreign wars, poor harvests led to famine, aristocratic absentee landlords took what profit they could from the land and made no effort to improve it, corruption was widespread, Paris was a filthy hole and the Seine an open sewer. (no change there, then. ed.)  Louis was officially arrested on 13 August 1792 and imprisoned. On 21 September, the National Assembly declared France to be a republic, and abolished the monarchy. Louis was stripped of all of his titles and honours, and from that date was known as Citoyen Louis Capet. He was beheaded by guillotine, aged 38, on the 21st January 1793.

Marie-Antoinette was removed from her family and transferred, alone, to the Conciergerie prison on the night of the 2nd August 1793. She was imprisoned in the Conciergerie for 76 days, and conveyed from there to her place of execution in an open cart, her hair shorn, her hands tied behind her back and constrained by a rope leash. She was publicly executed by beheading by guillotine on the 16th October 1793, aged 37. 

And it is this short and tragic life that, 231 years later, the French chose to mock in the Olympic Opening Ceremony. Okay, the regicide was the defining act in the creation of the French Republic, but to celebrate the birth of their nation in this particularly tone deaf and unpleasant fashion was a vulgarity too far, demonstrating yet again a lack of civilisation. (have you seen their traditional toilets?)

And I was thinking about this in the context of the current civil unrest in England. I was particularly struck by the name-calling indulged in by the media, pundits and politicians. The protesters are called "right-wing yobs, thugs, far-right rentamobs". 'Twas thus during the French revolution. Then, the name-calling was sans-culottes, (left and right as political terms not having been invented). This literally means without breeches. The nobility and bourgeoisie wore silk knee breeches called culottes. The working class wore long trousers in practical fabrics instead. The sans-culottes, most of them urban labourers, served as the driving popular force behind the revolution. Though ill-clad and ill-equipped, with little or no support from the middle and upper classes, they made up the bulk of the Revolutionary army and were responsible for many executions during the early years of the French Revolutionary Wars. How many? It is estimated that between 40,000 and 50,000 people were executed by guillotine or killed in summary executions or massacres, the majority during the  Reign of Terror, a period of extreme violence and political repression that lasted from 1793 to 1794. For comparative purposes, during the Rwandaforfuck's sake genocide, it is now estimated that 500,000 to 800,000 Tutsi were killed. 

Many of the conditions that drove the sans-culottes two and a quarter centuries ago are extant now, in Britain's cities. Okay, the people are not starving, and they do have nice trouserings to wear:

Mainly these long shorts, joggers or jeans, but definitely not satin knee breeches or pin-stripe suitings.

but they have deeply-felt grievances which are being ignored by the establishment and they have taken their grievance into the streets. Okay, I know its a hot summer, and that Britain traditionally riots during hot summers, that rioting is great fun for the testosterone-addicted, looting even more fun and profitable to boot, and the possibility of getting your own back on the establishment's police force, dogs and horses is a massive draw, but politicians ignore at their peril the deep dissatisfaction with living conditions and policy direction. Just calling them names, threatening them with prison and setting elfin, ice maiden careerist entitlementista, Yvette Cooper, Home Secretary, onto them, won't cut it.

nothing there that a slap with a wet haddock wouldn't improve.

So, mrs ishmael, what are these grievances? Pretty much the same as for the sans-culottes: trashed economy, high interest rates, can't make ends meet, ruinous foreign wars, corruption in high places, job insecurity, competition from foreign workers, low wages, and an establishment that has no clue, no idea at all what life is like at the bottom of the urban heap. An establishment whose only response is to threaten the people rather than listen to them. They refuse to hear the deep concerns about the enemy within: cities being turned into something stridently non-British; the whole city of Bradford smelling of curry on a Sunday afternoon, instead of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, mr inmate's tales of a fleet of south Asian taxi drivers running drugs, prostitutes and child sex slaves between and within Lancashire cities.

People are scared within their own country. And the establishment response is to assert that the majority of Britons are happily living in a multi-ethnic, multi-cultural country of mutual respect. By repeating the lie, they intend making it so. By calling the rioters names - ignorant, ill-informed, racist, bigoted, far-right - etcetera, they hope to marginalise the threat. 

Oh yes - left and right: back to the French Revolution again. The terms were originally coined to describe the seating arrangements of politicians in the French National Assembly. In 1789 the delegates started work on drafting a constitution for the new country. They were deeply divided over how much authority Louis XVI should have, and the two main factions staked out their territory in the assembly hall - with the anti-royalist revolutionaries sitting on the presiding officer's left and the more conservative, aristocratic supporters of the monarchy gathered to the right. As you will recall from earlier in this piece, it was the left who killed the king.

So to insult the current British protesters as extreme far right is just lazy gobble-de-gook.

Less insults and more serious discourse is required. It might be an existential matter. 

• If  you would like to read some original ishmael or stanislav, then the four-volume Call Me Ishmael oeuvre, collected and curated by editor mr verge, is available on Lulu and Amazon.

  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.

Good Evening, Huw Welshman Yere

 

Oh, Do Fuck Off.

The Sunday Ishmael: 28/07/2024

 It is said that travel broadens the mind. But who would want a broad mind? Keep an open mind and people throw rubbish into it. What we need are narrow minds, with laser-like focus, bringing a honed intelligence  to issues of values and ethics, not those flabby, cellulite-pocked broadened minds. And a GSOH, of course. Anyway, I'm back from my holidays. The ishmaelette's little dog brought a flea infestation back with her, don't know whether or not her mind was broadened. 

Bradford grew wealthy on the toil of the white working class in its textile mills. It has some nice Victorian show-off civic buildings in the centre, which nestles in a bowl, the markets, slums, fishnchip shops and pubs climbing the hill-sides of the bowl to the less dense suburbs on the tops. John Betjeman once did a documentary about Bradford's Victorian markets, with their glass domes, wrought iron, Pie Tom's and Morrison's little stall. All knocked down now - I think its a carpark. We went there as a memory-lane trip, to show the ishmaelette her roots.  It was hot, so the windows were down, and, as we started down the Bradford bowl, past the back-to-back terrace housing, the ishmaelette demanded the windows be closed, despite the heat: "it stinks! Mu-thurr - it smells of curry". And it does. The whole city was redolent of warm garlic, cumin, turmeric, coriander, fenugreek and chilli. I'm quite fond of an occasional curry, despite the subsequent intestinal havoc but for a whole English city to reek of curry on a July Sunday afternoon was both disconcerting and disorienting. When I lived there, apart from Lumb Lane; Bradford was a white northern, industrial town, with David Hockney, black buildings and black sparrows (when I went south to University I was astonished to see brown sparrows). Here's the tourist blurb about Bradford these days:  "If you are looking for a diverse and vibrant destination that combines culture, history, and nature, then Bradford is the place for you....... You can enjoy a variety of delicious dishes from different cuisines here. And if you want to escape the city, you can discover the beautiful countryside of the Bradford district, with its moors, valleys, and villages. Bradford is a destination that will surprise and delight you with its rich and diverse offerings." And it smells of curry. Just saying.

They seem to have flooded the Town Hall square and called the resulting paddling pool City Park:

It certainly doesn't look like the city where I went to school - which seems to have become embedded in a south Asian district. Little wonder that in a speech for the National Conservatism Conference in Washington DC, J.D.Vance recounted a conversation with a friend:
“I was talking about, you know: what is the first truly Islamist country that will get a nuclear weapon?” he said. “Maybe it is Iran, maybe Pakistan already kind of counts, and then we finally decided that it’s actually the UK – since Labour just took over.”

This caused, predictably, outrage amongst Labour politicians, all busily denying that Starmer is in hock to the Muslim vote.

When I was studying for my A levels, we were informed by our Miss Jean Brodie careers teacher not that we were the crème de la crème, but that we were among only 15% of the population to attend university. Back then there were only 45 universities. In 2022, there were over 2.86 million students at UK Yoonies, and amongst people aged between 30 and 34 in the UK, half were educated to a tertiary level.  There are around 176 universities. I don't think that this means that the population is getting cleverer - indeed, all available evidence seems to suggest the reverse. Many universities are struggling financially and are heavily reliant on foreign student fees. Maybe it is time to question the purpose of University education - is it to prepare young people for a career - a vocational purpose, as in medical or law schools; is it to train minds in an academic method which is then transferable into a variety of fields of endeavour, is it to make money from foreigners, or is it to provide jobs for academics who can have their books as required reading by these bright young minds? And  is training 50% of the population in higher education a good idea when there aren't enough carers, plumbers, builders, mechanics and electricians to go around? In fact, is it civilised to take kids from the ages of 18 to 21 away from home and support structures, allow them to mix only with their fellow incarcerates and incur huge debt against the promise of earning £10 grand a year more than non graduates? I really liked the National Service idea - get them usefully occupied and then, when their brains have finished growing, if they still want to study at a higher level, the Open University offers excellent educational materials and support for learning - which is more than my law lecturers and tutors ever did, as they shambled into lecture rooms and read out the same notes year after year, boring even themselves. 

Talking of boredom, I don't suppose you were able to miss the opening ceremony of the Olympic Games in Paris. Which was the best bit for you? Did you enjoy all the headless aristocrats and the talking decapitated head of Marie Antoinette in the windows of the Conciergerie, followed by the coup de theatre of thousands of red ribbons streaming down the walls to mimic the gallons of blood shed in the Revolution? Or did you like the zombie faceless torch bearer in billowing white grave clothes and corset lacing running through the unsavoury bits of Paris and along the roof tops? Or how about the blasphemous and tasteless depiction of the Last Supper by a bunch of drag queens? My best bit was the troupe of jolly French matelots bearing aloft a large chest down some steps by the Seine - just cos I hoped one of them would slip in the rain and the chest would bob about on the waves until the lid popped open and Macron emerged, like a stripper from a cake. 

But, alas, non - he remained, diminutive and dry, nobly bearing up during the three and a half days of the procession, his tiny GILF at his side. 

I have to confess that I turned it off after the first five and a half days of grinning, wet, Olympic teams clad in Pac-a-Macs on a variety of boats chugging their way through the Seine's filthy waters, so I missed the denouement, but I'm reliably informed that the damn thing continued until 10.15pm and that none of it was as good as the late Queen Elizabeth II parachuting into the London Olympic stadium, ably supported by 007.

Should I be worried about Stephen Fry? There he was on the Laura Kuenssnose Show with Victoria Derbyshire this morning, having a bit of a rant about the need to renationalise Britain's water, when he threw his glass of water down his pretty pink shirt. Now, it could have been intended as a visual aid, but, judging by his aghast expression, I think not - he just missed his mouth.

He then buttoned his jacket over his embonpoint and strategically draped his arm across his chest in an attempt to pretend there wasn't a large wet patch under his chin. He did have a 6 foot fall from the 02 Arena stage at an AI conference last September, breaking his leg, pelvis and several ribs, so maybe it is the after effects of the fall and not Parkinson's. Or maybe the fall was suspicious in and of itself.

Mr Mongoose's Election Crossword- 

The Solution

Congratulations to all successful crossworders and many, many thanks to mr mongoose.

• 
  
• If  you would like to read some original ishmael or stanislav, then the four-volume Call Me Ishmael oeuvre, collected and curated by editor mr verge, is available on Lulu and Amazon.

  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.

mrs ishmael is on holiday again.

 

Now that the election is out of the way, I'm off to England for a couple of weeks. Sir Keir will just have to manage without me. I anticipate posting the answers to mr mongoose's crossword towards the end of July - so that's lots of time to solve it.

Oh Brave new world that has such bastards in it.

 

Didn't Farage do well? More than blew the bloody doors off. Worst election results for the Tories since 1835. This is what they were wearing in 1835:

And, yes, the blokes were wearing corsets.

So, a long time ago - but not long since Boris secured for them a massive majority and they frittered it away with their sneaky little deals to subvert the Brexit settled will of the people by importing cheap labour, by their taking ways, by driving the economy into the mud, and, basically, not giving a hairy pig's arse about the working class, despite re-dubbing them "hard-working people" and conveniently forgetting about the people not able to work by reason of age, infirmity or the crashed state of the economy.

That's the wealthy wife, standing a few paces behind the defeated Sunak, pressed up against the Downing Street railings. They neither of them know how to dress themselves, but they do learn - Mrs. Sunak, clutching an umbrella firmly, is determined to avoid another wet suit disaster. I did advise him previously to employ an umbrella-wallah.

Brilliant result for the SNP. Well, maybe they don't realise it yet, but now they can stop pretending to be a serious political party, stop any pretence of government and policy and get on with doing what they do best - whinging. Really good that the peepul of Scotland didn't ignore the disgraceful sight of police vehicles parked outside Gnasher Sturgeon's home, their motor-home being impounded as profits of crime and Mr. Sturgeon being charged with embezzlement. They were wiped out and Labour is back, with a vengeance. Remember Gnasher saying this election would be a de facto referendum with the peepul of Scotland being given the opportunity to declare their desire to leave the U.K. by voting for the SNP in droves? Well, they didn't. And Alba, headed up by Big Fat Smart Aleck, got no votes seats at all. None. That's zilch. So that's it for Scottish Independence. George Osborne, commentating on the ITV election coverage, summed it up neatly: a unilateral referendum has no legal validity and the only way that Westminster would allow a legal referendum, (cos the Tories would rather stick pins in their eyes than do that again),  was if a minority Labour government joined hands with the SNP in coalition. And there's really no need for that, then, is there? Talking of ITV's commentators - they had Gnasher pontificating at the table with the grown-up politicians. Gosh, she's piled on the pounds since being a disgraced politician. And to show that we're even-handed here, and not at all misogynistic, they also had Fat Neil Kinnock, who has not only grown several chins since leaving office, but he's also developed a beard that failed the struggle to hide the chins. Mind you, I think he was drunk. Could have been a combination of the Welsh accent, extreme age and the emotion of being back on national telly being treated seriously, but I think he was drunk - it was when he talked about Tony and Cherie entering 10, Downing Street and how it should have been him and Glen. Aww, bless.

The turn-out was a statement in itself. It is said that it is not apathy, but anger, keeps voters away from the polling station - you know - the lot of you are a bunch of truffle-eating establishment stiffoes and a pox on all your houses. Forty per cent of the electorate decided not to vote. That's a lot. That means that half the population has had it with parliamentary democracy. Best be careful. Didn't Stalin say of Churchill: " I'm more of a democrat than he is, and I'm a Dictator?"

So, who's gone? Practically everyone, but the bigish beasties who will be down the dole office tomorrow are:

Grant Shapps - Defence Secretary

Gillian Keegan - Education Secretary

Penny Mordaunt - Commons Leader and Sword Bearer, with magnificent hair

Lucy Frazer - Culture Secretary

David TC Davies - Welsh Secretary

Michelle Donelan- Science, Innovation and Technology Secretary

Simon Hart - Chief Whip

Johnny Mercer- Veterans Minister

For some unfathomable reason, 23.059 people in Richmond and Northallerton voted for their boy Rishi - so I suppose that means he will become an Opposition back bencher, unless he further kicks his party by resigning and forcing a by-election immediately after the general election.

Shetland and Orkney returned Big Al Carmichael for the Liberal Democrats - no surprise there. There wasn't much of an opposition, as Labour and Conservatives both helicoptered in adolescents still learning the political ropes. The Reform candidate was Orkney-based fisherman Robert Smith, who knew he didn't have much of a hope, as he freely admitted on Radio Orkney. He told the listeners that Big Al was a good man, a local man, a hard working politician who knows the ropes, whereas he, Smith, was standing just to give voters somewhere to park their opposition votes. When asked for his views on the monarchy, Smith said he would rather have Fred and Rose West than Charles and Camilla. Which was a bit rude. And may account for why he only got 1,586 votes as opposed to Big Al's 11,392. He didn't want the job anyway.

mr mongoose's Election Crossword

 

tip: print off the grid and complete by hand

Across

8   Online Monet nude brewed a bitter end. (10)
9   The Tories' are so very this, and it shows. (4)
10  Bastard buzzer makes one breed. (5,3)
11  Base but playful weaver donkey. (6)
12  Stilton and Tia Maria fuse into political philosophy. (15)
15  Support and obstruct (4)
16  Further, I hear that 16 tends to be 17. (5)
17  "Hello!" You'd have to be this to vote Tory. (4)
18  Mixed mag and reach next secondhand market. (8,3,4)
19  Zero tolerance for this coloured bad man. (6)
22  Radio soft rock mock hard man. (5,3)
23  Elect even pair switch reject. (4)
24  Arrangements can be made toes regime. (10)

Down

1   Republican-made Botox treated unpopular levy. (7,3)
2   Edge transforms the Tories last chance. (8,7)
3   Same as the old country in Papua New Guinea. (3,7)
4   Current panto through which soldiers choose brass? (7,8)
5   Questions up rump. (4)
6   Tying pork horse here? (15)
7   Reject even pair switch elect. (4)
13  Slavishly wearing false gnashers? (10)
14  Honey 8 or 27 sweeteners. (5,5)
20  Port last night causes Toxteth event. (4)
21  Therefore upset monster. (4)

mrs. ishmael is taking a Big City Weekend Break - continue talking amongst yourselves. Back in time for the Election.

 

In case you missed this:

 

The Sunday Ishmael: 23/06/2024

 A couple of Sundays ago, I told you that I am a racist, and that I know this because I was taught by anti-racism trainers that I, like all white people, am/are racist.  And these were professional Black people, who should know. 

In the 40 years that have subsequently elapsed, I have dwelt on this, moving from offended, to denial, to over-compensating, to accepting, to understanding that everyone is and why should I feel guilty about it, when Diane Abbott doesn't?

I am also religiously intolerant. This gets a bit mixed up, because many of the practitioners of religions are also people of colour - but racism and religious intolerance are two separate things. For example, I subject my white, Church of Scotland friend to my intolerant abuse: "don't you find the comedy hats that bishops wear to be proof positive that there is no god?"

Or: "do any of the congregants at your church have any religious conviction at all, or do they just go for the fighting?"

Although all religions seem to have been birthed in blood, sacrifice (animal and human), war, torture, cruelty and avarice (I have a friend who, on a tour of the Vatican, became faint with horror and despair by the time she was ushered into the Sistine Chapel, and begged to be released early), some religions are undoubtedly worse than others. I was once invited to a Baha'i service. They don't seem too bad. 

The great bulk of Bahāʾī teaching is concerned with social ethics. They have no priests and do not seem to have any rituals when worshipping - other than eating. The service I attended was a bring and share lunch. There was no incense, songs, readings from old books, stand up, sit down, shake hands with your neighbour. Nope, just a range of dishes - competitive cooking. The worst thing that could happen was irritable bowel syndrome.

And I've known a few Quakers, who seem fairly inoffensive and quiet. And my Jewish friend always seems to have specialist food for specialist occasions when the ancient and biblical Jews were undergoing some fresh torment set upon them by their god.

At the other end of the religious spectrum are the wildly intolerant, creatively cruel worshippers of a god who demands the death of anyone who doesn't agree with him. 

The primary aim of jihad as warfare is the expansion and defence of the Islamic state. In classical theory, jihad should continue until "all mankind either embraced Islam or submitted to the authority of the Muslim state." There could be truces before this was achieved, but no permanent peace. One who died "on the path of God" was a martyr, whose sins were remitted and who was secured "immediate entry to paradise".

What can you do with people like that? Best thing is to leave them alone to pursue their mad, stone-age religion - which is a bit difficult when they are intent on conversion or empire and, moreover, have large populations embedded in your own, secular country, who elect  a representative who not only doesn't just not understand the culture, but actively rejects it. 

Mothin Ali was elected in May as a councillor for the Gipton and Harehills ward in Leeds after winning more than 3,000 votes. Councillor Ali said, in his victory speech: “We will not be silenced. We will raise the voice of Gaza. We will raise the voice of Palestine."

He then triumphantly shouted "Allahu Akbar!” - which is an Islamic declaration of faith and translates to 'God is the greatest' in Arabic. It is used frequently within prayers and as a battle cry. Not bad enough being a Greenforfucksake, Ali is more concerned with Middle Eastern Islam than with the political needs of Leeds. He's under investigation, which means, of course, that nothing will come of it.

‘One of the things that’s coming up over and over again is Islamophobia,’ says Sir Keir Starmer in a campaign video, talking to Sadiq Khan. ‘We need to say over and over again that Islamophobia is intolerable… and I think there’s more we can do in government. There’s certainly stuff online that needs tackling much more robustly than it is at the moment.’

Well, that would be me, then, Sir Keir. 

Homophobia is a term that doesn't hold water - "Homo" is a Latin noun that means "human being" or "man" in the generic sense of "human being, mankind". The binomial name Homo sapiens was coined by Carl Linnaeus in 1758. In modern English, homo- is a combining form meaning "same, identical".  Like homogenous. "Phobia" means an extreme fear of or aversion to something. So homophobia as a word is nonsense. It makes no sense. 

Islamophobia, however,  is a very different kettle of fish. Having just read an article about the practice of Islam in Afghanistan, I would advise that it makes a great deal of sense, especially for women, to have an extreme fear of Islam. The Supreme Leader, Haibatullah Arkundzada, announced in his Eid message in early April that they will soon start stoning women to death for such crimes as adultery, which they define very loosely. The United Nations is currently investigating reports of rape, gang rape, sex slavery and forced abortions of women held in Afghanistan jails. A report titled ‘From Torture to Sexual Assault and Murder: What’s Happening in the Taliban’s Women’s Prisons?’ says that 90 women in prisons in Samangan, Jawzjan and Faryab provinces were raped by Islamic men who took over security at night, after female guards, cleaners and medical staff ended their day shifts.  Both senior and lower ranking military Islamic personnel are alleged to have entered the prisons at night to sexually assault the women. Women were also taken to the homes of Taliban commanders, where they were sexually assaulted and returned to prison at daybreak. Sixteen of the women became pregnant after ‘repeated sexual assault and have undergone abortions in local clinics,’ the report said. The women were taken to hospital under Taliban armed guard, and kept separate from other patients and most medical staff while abortions were performed, usually in the third or fifth month of pregnancy, it said. It attributed the information to unnamed ‘prisoners who experienced mistreatment.’

‘One released prisoner affirms that at least four female prisoners in Samangan province fell seriously ill as a result of repeated sexual assaults by Taliban members and were ultimately executed by the Taliban,’ the report said. It also quoted a female doctor at a hospital in Maymana, the provincial capital of Faryab, as saying ‘the Taliban transferred 13 female prisoners to the gynaecology department… after sexually assaulting them, and these women underwent abortions.’ Multiple women were taken to the hospital bleeding following sexual abuse, and showing signs of torture, another doctor said. Heather Barr, the associate director of the Women’s Rights Division at Human Rights Watch, said the Taliban regarded women as chattel needing constant supervision to ensure they behave ‘decently’ and do not dishonour male relatives. Errant behaviour – such as leaving their homes alone, protesting violations of their rights, or desiring an education or career – is seen by the Taliban as rightly incurring punishment, so in the Taliban’s worldview ‘they had it coming,’ she said.

It is unlikely that there will be any consequences for the Taliban’s treatment of women. International aid, including cash deliveries of tens of millions of dollars, continues to flow into the country. 

Supreme Leader Haibatullah Arkhundzada has re-introduced execution by stoning, taunting human rights defenders: ‘You say it’s a violation of women’s rights when we stone them to death. But we will soon implement the punishment for adultery.’

All this is creepily like Margaret Attwood's The Handmaid's Tale - and as such, could be dismissed as anti-Islamic propaganda. I don't think so, though. Or you could hold the view that this sociopathic hatred of women in Afghanistan is cultural, not embedded within Islam. But, again, I don't think so - there are too many "cultural" extreme manifestations of misogyny within Islam - look at the rapes perpetrated upon Jewish young women in last October's invasion of Israel by Hamas, ably supported by Palestinian civilians. Within Britain, it is estimated that 12 to 15 women are killed each year to preserve the "honour" of their Islamic families. In the year ending March 2022, there were 2,887 honour-based abuse (HBA) -related offences recorded by the police in England and Wales. This was an increase of 6 per cent compared with the year ending March 2021 (when there were 2,725 offences). 

Banaz Mahmod, a 20-year-old who left an abusive arranged marriage was murdered by order of her Islamic uncle Ari Mahmod and father Mahmod Mahmod because she had a romantic relationship.  In an amazing bitter irony, that you really couldn't make up, Ari Mahmod is suing ITV, claiming a crime drama based on his “honour” killing of his niece has blackened his name.

I am seriously beginning  to think that we need to turn to Nigel Farage to tell the bloody truth. He was rather splendid about not backing down on his statement in his BBC Panorama interview that the West provoked Vladimir Putin into invading Ukraine, through Nato and European Union expansion , stating, “we provoked this war.” Despite criticism from Rishi Sunak and Sir Keir Starmer, Farage maintains he won’t apologize for telling the truth about Russia’s actions. So that's it with me and Starmer. The man's a Remainer, in hock to the Islamic community and determined to provoke Russia into declaring war on Britain.

Dost thou think because thou art virtuous there will be no more cakes and ale?

It'll just have to be Farage and Reform. I do hope that his re-immersion in British politics won't affect his support for Trump's Presidential campaign.

Conservative Lord Philip Hammond, Baron Hammond of Runnymede P.C.), British politician and life peer, former Chancellor of the Exchequer from 2016 to 2019, former Foreign Secretary from 2014 to 2016, former Defence Secretary from 2011 to 2014 and former MP for Runnymede and Weybridge from 1997 to 2019 really doesn't like Nigel Farage at all. He solemnly declared on Laura's politics show this morning that: "We should have no truck with this right wing populism .... there are no quick fixes, no free lunches and the snake oil that Farage is peddling has no place in British politics."

Shame. Bring on the free lunches.

• John Swinney has been let down again by the Scottish National Party's apparatchiks, who have been stealing the stamps. The apparatchiks refer to the Scottish Government's stamps as the Stamp Fairy.  It's a bit like when the SNP disappeared the £630,000. What's his is mine, because we is the government. Swiney says he's been assured that his campaign did not use stamps paid for with public money - a parliamentary investigation into the matter is ongoing. 
• So we'll hear no more about that, then.
• If  you would like to read some original ishmael or stanislav, then the four-volume Call Me Ishmael oeuvre, collected and curated by editor mr verge, is available on Lulu and Amazon.

  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.

Another incredibly old bugger dies

 

As they said on the radio this morning, (honest, not invent) he was handsome in a handsome way that the ordinary man could relate to, was sexy in an intelligent way - indeed he invented the intellectual sex scene with Julie Christie in Don't Look Now, he was just that guy - laid back, funny, approachable, long-limbed and louche in a thoroughly nice way, could play second banana, heroes and villains, everyone adored him, even when they spent 9 months on the steppes filming Kelly's Heroes and he was just like his character, or the character from Mash, did I mention that everyone adored him and would do anything for him but he never took advantage and he was such a workaholic, his vocation meant everything to him, he was just going to work forever, because he enjoyed acting and the travel and the people he met.

Donald Sutherland, 17 July 1935 – 20 June 2024, entertainer.

The Sunday Ishmael: 16/06/2024

 For our readers on Continents other than Europe, and for those who haven't been paying much attention, (and, as usual, who can blame you) Europe is in the grip of a war involving all the European nations. There were preliminary skirmishes, which eliminated the lesser countries, leaving the giants to battle it out. For some reason lost in the mists of history, Britain is allowed to pretend it is four countries. All the other countries are required to be just the one country, but not Britain. 

It would have been better for Scotland if it had thrown in its lot with England - but no, ancient enmity, spite, Braveheart, independence and the kilt, would never allow such an outcome. So Scotland, which most of the time resembles a tiny male spider, riding on the back of its English spider wife, looking for an opportunity to inseminate her without being eaten as a nutritious snack, shrugged off its utter financial, economic, political, defensive, health and social care dependence on England, to swagger into the fray with its own Army. They flooded into Munich last week, two hundred thousand of them, brash, drunken and incomprehensible, singing strange battle songs and swinging their skirts. Even little Orkney sent its small battalion to join the Tartan Army.

The local newspaper was full of it: "For an entire generation, this will be the first time Scots have witnessed their country taking part in a major tournament" . There's a reason for that. ed. "So the anticipation and excitement has reached fever-pitch this week, as Orkney's Tartan Army head out in force to support the country." One supporter was quoted as saying: "I haven't booked a flight home yet! I'm intending on staying until Scotland is out of the tournament." 

Aww, bless. 

The thing is, Scotland is not very good at playing football. Even I can see that, and I have no interest, experience or knowledge of what they laughingly call the beautiful game. On Friday evening, the German team, sleek and nimble in white costumes, ran rings around the lumpen, black-clad, cheating Scots. The German passing was balletic - always in the right place at the right time, with the Scots puffing along, getting it wrong, getting in each other's way, tripping up their opponents, illegally tackling them, scoring an own goal, getting sent off in disgrace and ultimately losing 5:1. Talk about embarrassing. Mind you, that Florian Wirtz is a dirty little bastard. Did you see him spitting all over the place? When I was a child, there were notices up on the buses, saying "Spitting is forbidden". When I entrained across Europe, there were signs all over the train: "Spucken ist verboten", "E' vietato sputare", "interdiction de cracher" and "e pericoloso sporgersi,"  which latter means don't lean out, but I always thought it meant don't spit. Spitting was associated with TB, dirty old men and chewing tobacco. Now it seems all the footballers spit because they seem to have some strange throat malformation that prevents them from swallowing their own saliva. I daresay the football pitch is spongy with spit, then they go and roll in it, do triumphant victory knee slides (although not the Scots, for obvious reasons), and lie down in it behind their team mates,  forming a wall to frustrate free kicks (and that didn't work, either. Just got covered in spit.)

Useful German phrases for next time you are in Munich:

Deine Mutter geht in der Stadt huren – Your mother goes whoring in the city
Deine Mutter schwitzt beim Kacken – Your mother sweats when she shits
Deine Oma masturbiert im stehen! – Your grandma masturbates standing up!
Klugscheißer – bogmouth/know-all/smart aleck
Ich ficke Katzen – I fuck cats

Here's a photo of a silly old man:

Yep, yep yep, John Swinney, cosplaying, backed the wrong side again.

Politicians have always pretended to like football, hoping to increase their populist appeal. Tony Blair was renowned for it. He was mocked over the years about his apparent claim in a BBC interview that he watched Jackie Milburn play at St. James Park in the late 1950s, despite being only 4 years old and living in Australia. He was also reported as saying that he had sat in the Gallowgate End of the club's stadium, even though there were no seats in that part of the ground at that time. Fortunately, Blair was able to clear up the misapprehension: he said that "People asked two completely separate questions. One, when I used to go and watch Newcastle. Then someone asked me who was the greatest ever footballer so I said Jackie Milburn."

That's alright, then. This is probably not true, either. mr. ishmael writing in 2015. Huw Welshman is also sadly not with us, being disgraced and resigned over his strange proclivities.

SPORTS NEWS. BLAIR TO HEAD THIEFA (2015)

This is Huw Welshman with the Six o Clock News from the PBC, where the top story is that former prime minister,

 

 Tony and Imelda Blair,  
is to step down from his role as Peacemaker to the World and assume the presidency of THIEFA,  the governing body of the world's organised crime syndicate of  bullies, crooks, knucklehead morons and gang rapists, other wise known as football.  Here's what he had to say.

Peepul of football. I simply say. My role as peacemaker is done. The world has never had.  So much peace. Especially in   Iraq.  Where I have succeeded.  Beyond my wildest. Expectations.  Syria, too.  Thanks to my efforts. Is now at peace.  The Palestinian question. Is now resolved.  

 

And where one Israeli is killed, then quite rightly five hundred Palestinian children forfeit their lives, under masonry or tank tracks, doesn't matter, it's their  way of contributing  to Peace and stability in the region. And who would deny them that?

As it says in the scriptures, five hundred eyes for an eye. Fair's fair. And I'm known as a fair man, Oi Vay. 
And  Have a Negilah Day.
 My friend Benjamin Netanyahu. And my other friend. Wotsisname, the raghead bloke?   They enjoy a warm and constructive peaceful war.  Which sees their respective one and one-not  nation states not co-operating like never before.  

Thanks to my efforts with the late Mr Gadaffi, is it Gadaffi, Gaddafffi,  fucked if I know, but you know who I mean.  The gentleman who, as a result of my global statesmanship, had a scaffold pole rammed up his jacksie and his corpse violated by nig-nogs.  Gosh, I hope that doesn't  happen to anyone close to me. Like myself.  Better double my security guard. 'Sokay, the British taxpayer foots that bill. Quite right, too.

 

 Don't get much more peaceful transitions than that. Thanks to that, my initiative, things can only get better. My Gaddafi intervention. And I think it speaks for itself. People. Many thousands of people. Are leaving Libya daily. To seek a new life.

 

  At the bottom of the Mediterranean.  

 In Iraq, where once there was brutality - as well as the very real threat of Weapons of Mass Destruction, made-up by my friend, Porno-Al

 Alright, it was all made-up. So fucking what?

What's a few million roasted wogs?

What? Don't you dare call me racist.

And vote Labour. You stupid cunts.

- there is now a widening sense of peace and civilised democratic governance, as the Blair Peace Revolution sweeps over the Middle East.  And Egypt, too, after the Arab Spring, is now firmly in the hands of an exceptionally peace-conscious brutal military dictatorship which executes its opponents by the hundreds.

Now is not the time for soundbites. But I feel I might pat myself on the back and say, the Middle East and North Africa, aflame, now, for decades.

 

 JobDone.

I always said that I wanted to do more with my life than promote division, greed, war and torture and so now, as I retire as WarMaker-in-Chief, I look for further challenges, further opportunities to serve the common man.
 And what, frankly, can be more common than football?

 

Here's me, pretending to play it. With some wog children.
Yes, I know, they still have all their limbs but quite frankly, expecting me to maim all the world's wog children is a bit much.
Not as though I haven't done my best.

Mr Blatter has done a fine job, these past years, in promoting the timeless values of bribery and corruption but if I might say so, I am sure that I can do better.  The decision to award the World Cup to some stinking little Hellhole does urgently need to be revisited.  In my judgement, I feel that the raghead princes paid nowhere near enough to Mr Blatter and his colleagues but you can be sure that if they want to keep the fixture they will have to reimburse me rather more generously.  I mean, world statesmen don't come cheap, do they?  I think I can show the world's football lovers how the sport can be run for the benefit of everyone. But mainly me. And Lady Imelda of course. And I look forward to being of service.

The British General Election? Well, it was a bit of a disappointment but at least we got a majority, yes, I know, only thirteen but better than nothing.

Scotland? Yes, it looks as though I am vindicated there, too; I always knew that Devolution would break-up the Union.  And now it is.  My principals in Europe will be delighted.

Chilcott Enquiry?  What's that?

That'll be twenty-five thousands pounds, please, Huw. 

Yes, cheque to Imelda, as usual.

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

No, despite all this football excitement, I haven't forgotten that we have entered the season of competitive promising.  

Here's some candidates for election:

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

If  you would like to read some original ishmael or stanislav, then the four-volume Call Me Ishmael oeuvre, collected and curated by editor mr verge, is available on Lulu and Amazon.

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.