Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Monday, March 26, 2007
"Bible-based criticism of evolution, once limited to Protestant fundamentalists in the United States, has become an issue in France now that Pope Benedict and some leading Catholic theologians have criticized the neo-Darwinist view of creation.
An Islamist publisher in Turkey mass-mailed a lavishly illustrated Muslim creationist book to schools across France recently, prompting the Education Ministry to proscribe the volume and question the way the story of life is taught here."
All we need now is for the religious nutjobs to join forces with the reflexologists, and a new age of barbarism will consume mankind.
None of this is new, of course. Scientific method has been under assault since at least 1978, when a Ph.D student of astronomy attempted to disprove the theory that the Earth rotates because of residual momentum/kinetic energy from the formation of the Earth and Solar System.
A young Brian May of the popular music combo Queen astounded the scientific establishment with his assertion that it was in fact Fat Bottomed Girls that made the world go round.
On closer inspection, however, this theory is blatantly false. Since 1978, the average body mass in developed nations has increased markedly, while the Earth's rotation is actually slowing.
This is unsurprising, as Mr. May is obviously given to flights of fancy. It seems inconceivable that any responsible parent would leave a mere skinny lad alone with a childminder bearing the moniker of "Big Fat Fanny", as he later claims.
Looking at this, I've begun to consider the possibility that Brian May hasn't actually done any research, and made it all up as he was going along.
I have a good mind to report him to the Royal Astronomical Society for his duplicity.
Be'elzebub has a devil put aside for such charlatans.
P.S. This is before we consider the noted climatologist and fraudster Carly Simon, whose controversial thesis on the formation of cirro-stratus in coffee cups were thoroughly debunked in 1972.
Any high school science student knows that the micro-climate of a coffee cup causes heat to dissipate far too rapidly for the formation of clouds.
And let us not discuss Professor Pop's pretensions of cheetah-hood, nor his claims regarding napalm.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
"Perhaps the most disturbing scene of the afternoon, however, involved the man who pulled down his pants in front of women and children and defecated on a burning U.S. flag.”
Now, let us pause to reflect upon that sentence. Would it have been any more acceptable had no children been present? Are women more sensitive than men about such things? And finally, what kind of rock-hard bastard could take a dump on a naked flame?
Anyone willing to scorch their testicles to make a political point is double hard in my book, and should be in the marines rather than the anti-war movement.
The reason I've heard so much recently about the heresy of the hippies is simple - the war in Iraq is over, and we lost. It's now time to open the big book of backstabbing to explain away our ignominious defeat.
For the modern propagandist, the lessons of that war aren't the ones that any military strategist would draw - that intervening in somebody else's war is a bad idea, that firepower is not the final guarantor of victory, that no amount of men and materiel can compensate for a fundamentally flawed plan.
No, the only lesson to be learned is this - dirty hippies done stabbed us in the back!
Obviously, we're past the point of no return in Iraq, so this isn't about shoring up support for our doomed adventure - this is myth-making in action, rehearsing the excuses that will enable our future wars of choice, laying the foundations for all tomorrow's idiotic backlash movements.
Welcome to the lunacy of the culture war - America's curse, and Britain's future.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Well, as you might know, I hate thinking and try to avoid it whenever possible. If blogs cause me any thought, it's usually "Why don't these bastards pepper their posts with more gags for me to steal, so I don't have to come up with my own?".
In that vein, I'll have to link to those from whom I regularly steal -
Roy at Alicublog, America's most entertaining blogger, who I've been reading since 2003;
Larry Teabag, who inspires hilarity and horror in equal measure;
Fellow Scot and all-round good egg Clairwil;
The stupendous Ha Ha Ha at Bogol and the inimitable Harry Hutton.
Honourable mentions should also go to Emerald Bile, The Japing Ape, Jon Swift and non-blogger Maddox.
And in my role as meme-slayer, I hereby declare this meme deceased.
Essentially, they're revisiting Tory dinosaur Norman Tebbit's immigrant-baiting "Cricket Test" - as might be expected, the ever-liberal Grauniad concludes that it's fine to support another nation's football team.
But it'll be a different story when I'm cheering on the Israelis on Saturday - I'll be condemned as an anti-English bigot, and if I tried it south of the border I'd be lucky to escape with my life.
It's yet another example of discrimination against mouthy Scottish wankers, and I, for one, won't stand for it.
But it's not the only example of modern double standards, as a contributor to this month's Viz notes...
"I was appalled to see a report on Newsnight about the King Fahad School teaching its pupils that all non-Muslims would burn in the fires of Hell after their deaths. What a terrible thing to present as fact to impressionable minds.
And anyway, I was always taught at my CofE school that it was non-Christians who would burn for all eternity in the Lake of Fire."
I quite agree - I believe that the infidels should be alerted to the hideous tortures that await them, should they spurn the infinite love of the Lord.
Speaking as a devout Trustafarian, I also believe that I shall inherit the Earth.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
"This government doesn't care about single men/hard-working families/small businesses/smokers/transvestite cab-drivers!" we lament in unison, cursing the perfidy of the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Wee Gordon Broon.
The Chancellor's a slippery little toad and no mistake, but he could've given us each a hot air balloon full of high-class prostitutes and we'd still have called him a cad and an fuckfaced oaf. Complaining is the national pastime, and on such days the average Briton spends an average of six hours whining like a fork scraped across a plate.
When I consider the financial persecution that I personally suffer, I start shaking and swearing incoherently at my hamster, although it doesn't seem to mind - if anything, it seems more interested in its nuts than added tax on a pint of Guinness. I suppose it's got the right idea.
Sitting about feeling sorry for myself isn't going to put food on the table, after all. Hard work and prudence is the key.
So I've been quietly tipping off the FBI as to the whereabouts of Osama Bin Laden, in the hope of claiming the $25 million bounty*.
Armed only with a copy of the Waziristan telephone directory, I've got as far as the Bijirani's. I reckon I've grassed up 143,000 Pakistanis for sheltering OBL so far - at this rate, I'll stumble across the right address before 2031.
That's what made Britain great - a bit of enterprise and risk-taking, not self-pity and grovelling for hand-outs.
*That's about fourteen hundred pounds in proper money.
Jolly well done, sir. Truly, this man could sell tits to Hugh Hefner.
It’s just a little disappointing that we’re too polite to ever actually use it. I can’t really imagine any of our recent Prime Ministers ordering a massive thermonuclear strike on Moscow - they’d think it was terribly rude.
Actually, I tell a lie - I could envision Lady Thatcher ordering a strike on Moscow. Now that I come to think of it, I can easily imagine Mrs. T nuking French Guyana, just to annoy Jacques Chirac. At least now, with our shiny new missile system, we could theoretically do so.
That’s assuming the damn thing works, of course. Picture the scene - as the Iranian missiles shriek towards London, placid senior civil servants calmly explain to a panicked Prime Minister that our nuclear arsenal doesn’t work in desert conditions.
Still, nukes seem to be the weapon of choice as far as bloggers are concerned. Every time some crank in the Middle East burns a flag, I wind up reading feverish demands that we turn the entire region into a sheet of radioactive glass.
I can see why that might appeal to certain figures in the Bush administration. After all, it’d make prospecting for oil a lot easier - you’d just have to walk about looking down.
I’d think better of New Labour come polling day, I can tell you.
In coming to this conclusion, I've had to consider what would happen to the concept of deterrence. The arms race would brutal, as countries competed to build ever larger and sharper sticks. I suppose that the worst case scenario is the Iranians developing a stick so big and pointy that Mahmoud Ahmadinejad could lean out of his Tehran window and poke us all in the eyes.
I’ve considered that eventuality, and we’ll need to keep a secret weapon of near infinite destructive capabilities in reserve - Britain's enemies will have no response to the shock and awe of the sock and 8-Ball.
We should take great care to use this awesome power wisely.
*You can tell this is the British government we’re talking about - the Americans spell the word “defence” differently, and imbue it with a wildly different meaning.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Saturday, March 17, 2007
I was at a fantastic German/Chinese restaurant this week, and the food was excellent.
Typical though, you stuff your face and twenty minutes later you're hungry for power again.
Friday, March 16, 2007
After lengthy consideration, I've decided to cast my vote for Judy
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
What nonsense. This survey is nothing less than a national affront, and a slur upon bibulous Scots. As soon as I unhook myself from this dialysis machine, there'll be hell to pay.
I still feel terrible tonight after drinking a bottle of whisky yesterday, and it's no wonder - I checked the label today and it turns out it was eight years old.
The Irish? Two-can hand grenades, the lot of them. I was out drinking with that Richard Harris about five years ago - nine pints and a nip, and the bugger was face down, dead to the world.
Never heard from him since, the big jessie. Some folk just can't hack the pace, you see.
"That’s another of the things that’s wrong with him: he’s afraid to try new things."
I think that's unfair to the Prime Minister. After all, I've never heard tales of Bonar Law or Lord Palmerston undergoing primal scream rebirthing therapy or wallowing in a Mexican mud-bath...
"The spiritual leader of the ceremony encouraged them "to feel at one with Mother Earth," the Times reported, and to "experience inner feelings and visions."
"The Blairs then moved around the outside of the pyramid, one façade at a time, praying first to the Mayan symbols of the sun and baby lizards, signifying spring and childhood. They then prayed to another wall, on which a bird was painted, representing adolescence, summer and freedom. One a third was a crab for maturity and autumn, and finally a serpent for winter and transformation..."
"...Before emerging from the pyramid, the Blairs were instructed to give voice to their hopes and fears (they said a prayer for world peace), and then undergo a "rebirth."
"This involved smearing one another with papaya and watermelon, then with mud from the Mayan jungle outside, the Times explained. "
"Finally, while exiting the womb-door of the pyramid, "the Blairs were told to scream out loud to signify the pain" of birth. They then walked hand-in-hand to the beach for a dip in the Caribbean..."
Credit where credit's due, I say. Churchill never had the guts to daub himself with his own feces and run naked through the streets of Cairo, shrieking obscene oaths while offering up supplication to Horus, son of Isis.
I wouldn't blink an eye if Jacques Chirac tried that, mind.
Bravo that man.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
"I believe homosexual acts between two individuals are immoral and that we should not condone immoral acts," the General declared with a straight face, defending the policy which has seen the dismissal of over 10,000 troops, including more than fifty Arabic speakers.
Well, that seems a bit harsh. After all, the gay community isn't a monolith - there are always a few bad apples who make the others look bad.
I can see the need for discretion, however. If you started letting just anybody into the army, why, before you knew it you'd be knee-deep in sexual jiggery-pokery and human pyramids.
I can also understand the fears of red-blooded US soldiers. If I was busy shooting people, I'd want to be sure that the man behind me was protecting my ass, rather than splattering it with thick wads of filthy yoghurt.
You'd be surprised by how common accidental discharges can be. If I may, however, I have a suggestion.
If it's morality that they're concerned about, the US military should surely follow the openness of the British Army, which now actively recruits from the gay community.
Since this policy was instituted, the incidence of Iraqi prisoners beating themselves to death and recruits committing suicide by shooting themselves twice in the head have dropped dramatically.
Who knows what wonders such a broadminded policy could do for the Marines?
Monday, March 12, 2007
Reports say he was able to identify himself to police only after a rubber ball had been removed from his mouth...
The very notion that a story this entertaining could pass the censorious pen of the professional propagandist beggars belief.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Thursday, March 08, 2007
A 42-year-old German man was so enraged by a foul during a boys' soccer match that he invaded the pitch and felled the 8-year-old culprit with a karate kick, then jumped on him, police said on Wednesday.
I have to say that I'm very impressed. My Kung-Fu is eminently defeatable, so I too only exercise it upon children, the elderly and the disabled.
It's very unwise to ever attack anyone who could conceivably retaliate - well done, that man.
On a completely unrelated note, a friend of mine has just shipped out to Basra for a six month tour. It seems like a stupid place to go for a holiday, but they are paying him to do it - it just makes me wonder.
I was watching Question Time this evening, and one of the panelists demanded that the Government bring "our boys and girls" back from Iraq.
I'm all in favour of treating the Iraqis fairly, but it's clear to see why we've been having so much trouble over there. If they'd sent heavily armed and well-trained men and women to fight rather than boys and girls, this nonsense would've been over years ago.
My pal will sort it out in five minutes, he's thirty-six and has a big fuck-off machine gun.
It fires real bullets and everything.
Presumably, Mr. Duff means people like Tory leader David Cameron, who has today sacked an MP for making dodgy remarks.
"I have the feeling that you find them acceptable," he opines - the Commissars, that is, rather than the remarks.
Being an actual person, rather than a cardboard cut-out of Viz stalwart Millie Tant, my views are less predictable - I actually think that bigots, racists, Nazis and wanky students waving pro-Jihadi placards should be encouraged to speak their minds, without fear of criminal sanction.
Nasty opinions about foreigners and homosexuals? By all means, speak your mind. Just be aware in doing so you've effectively switched on a blinking neon sign on your forehead, and that everyone you're speaking to is reading the words "I am a resentful, insecure, ignorant prick with shit for brains."
Racist statements are essentially like farts, with the added bonus that anyone who smells it knows instantly who dealt it. Plus, both emanate from arseholes.
As for the Islam hatin' keyboard warriors of the internet, I find it amusing to imagine how strangers would react if one of them were to suddenly launch into a bitter diatribe on the threat of European Dhimmification.
I imagine the reaction they'd get from ordinary people would be much like your reaction to this.
Monday, March 05, 2007
They just seem to gravitate towards me, radiant with satisfaction at the momentous news they're about to impart, booming "Those are bad for you!" in tones of great authority.
If I walked into Burger King, marched up to the most extravagantly obese heifer in the place and hollered "Ho, fatass, don't you think you've had enough?", would I expect thanks? Would I imagine that the half-cooked lump of cow's arse would drop from the woman's hands as she leapt up crying "Hallelujah, the truth shall set us free!".
No, I'd expect to be beaten to the floor and sat upon until my head burst messily across the floor. I imagine that the last sight I'd see would be Johnny No-Stars mopping up my exploded brains.
So, I'm buying a pack of cigarettes this morning, and all of a sudden a woman in the queue pipes up, "Do you stand about outside smoking those?"
Being British, it took me some time to absorb the fact that a total stranger was addressing me unsolicited, but once I'd regained my composure I replied "There's not really anywhere else I can smoke them, is there?"
"Well," she said, "If you're only buying ten, why not just give up?"
As you can imagine, it's not often that I'm speechless. I just laughed and took my change, when I should really have punched her in the tit and pissed in her handbag.
Is this really what it's come to?
This is how it starts, you know. One minute they're castigating your lifestyle choices, and before you know it they're burning your shop down and revoking your citizenship.
Friday, March 02, 2007
BBC News, 1st March 2007
The city council of New York has voted to ban the use of the word "wigger".
The resolution to ban the so-called "W-word" is largely symbolic as it carries no weight in law and those who use the word would face no punishment.
But it reflects a growing unease that the racial slur is now part of everyday conversation and that the taboo against its usage has been swept away.
The word is in common usage among sections of the younger generation in the United States to describe the increasingly commonplace incidence of white, middle-class Americans indulging in overblown hip-hop stylings.
Many Anglo-American community leaders, with the backing of fellow lawmakers, say it is offensive in every context and is a word which should never be said.
For them the word is loaded with offensiveness.
They regard it as degrading and a throwback to the early nineties, when cringe-worthy, faux-gangsta wannabes were regarded as sub-human, and whose weak-ass threads and hybrid jargon were frequently subject to overt playa-hatin'.
The New York City resolution was sponsored by Councilman Mix-a-Lot, who says the "W-word" was derived solely out of mockery and disrespect and that its meaning cannot be changed.
"Yo, the time has come for respectin'/
Because I'm detectin'/
Echoes of discrimination/
'Gainst the white boys of this nation/
"This City Council don't want none unless ya got love, son," he added.
But for America's so-called hip-hop generation using the word among themselves is about self-empowerment, and to stop it is likely to take a change in their attitudes rather than an edict from elected officials.
"I hope this dope measure will encourage respect towards me 'n' my homies," said New Yorker Brad "B-Jay" Banksworth, a jingling, laughable sack of daddy-bought bling and bullshit, "But maybe what gots to change is what's in people's hearts, y'all know what I'm sayin'?"
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Mrs. Rodent believes that the colossal fame of Paris Hilton is a fascinating sociological phenomenon, exposing how celebrity culture has effectively become a self-perpetuating kakistocracy; an endless cycle of self-abasement and glorification, in which the acquisition of wealth for its own sake is held up as the apex of personal and spiritual worth.
I, however, contend that Paris Hilton is a drivel-brained sack of shitty porridge, held together by extortionate oils and unguents, drunk on the gunk of her harem of witless, trustafarian himbos, cavorting for the gratification of a hooting pack of malicious, masturbating ogres.
Mrs. Rodent argues that my conclusions prove that I'm appallingly sexiest, and that I need to get my nose out of the fucking dictionary because nobody likes a smart-arse.
Personally, I think that both arguments have merit.