Saturday, June 30, 2007

Great British Boo-Hoo BlubberFest 2007 Commences

I have a confession to make.

For many years, I have hidden a secret fetish from the world - I am addicted to slamming doors shut on my dick.

Stand outside my house on any given day and you'll hear the loud bangs and cries of delight as I repeatedly pulverise my genitals - but now I lie prostrate before the feet of the self-appointed high priests of political correctness.

The local hospital has always dutifully bandaged my mangled manhood, but they have now decreed that the cost of my boner-bashing behaviour is too great for the NHS to bear.

Naturally, I've launched a civil action to force them to attend to my needs - I am, after all, a tax payer, and if I wish to clatter my clockweights twixt door and jamb then they are obliged to respect my basic right to do so.

It's for that reason that I stand in solidarity with 16 year old Sarah Scott, who finds herself needlessly persecuted by the mullahs of public morality for her decision to wear a fucking annoying Abortion is Murder T-shirt to school.

Similarly, I fully support 16 year old Lydia Playfoot in her deeply honest and not at all disingenuous action against schools, demanding that they permit the wearing of creepy, Christian hands-off-my-hole rings.

Their self-important moral grandstanding is an example to all blubbing, worthless skin-sacks with a beef against reality.

The same goes for trinket-waving cretin Nadia Eweida, whose righteous quest to allow the open display of religious symbols amongst fucking trolley-dolleys has gratuitously wasted everybody's time and money.

And I fulsomely support Islamic hoodie Shabina Begum, whose non-politically motivated campaign to force schools to accept her headscarf has heartened fuckbrained, sobbing whingevictims nationwide.

Ladies, I salute your courage and your willingness to create a huge ruckus over bugger all.

You may rest assured that the next time I hammer my knackers in a desk drawer, I will be thinking of you.

Seigfreid was so annoyed by the school's broadsword ban that he decapitated himself in a blind rage.

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Why Do These Muslim Bastards Keep Calling Me "Islamophobic"?
By Jon3Sobieski, Blog Commenter

I just don't get it, dude.

I like a frank debate on the issues of the day as much as the next man and I'm always polite. I respect their wacko cultural sensitivities and shit, but I've just about had it with these fucking Muslims calling me some kind of bigot.

It's always the same - I'll be having an online discussion with some towel-head, and the next thing I know Abdul or whoever gets all aggressive and starts calling me all these filthy names.

One minute I'm making a perfectly valid point about how they're all ignorant sheep following a religion of hate, and out of nowhere they'll suddenly accuse me of being "racist" or "prejudiced".

Just why do these Muslim bastards keep calling me "Islamophobic"? Does the Koran command them to be dumbasses or something?

And Allah help me if I so much as mention the fact that their holy book totally commands them to kill or convert everyone on Earth, which would be a disgusting breach of human rights and wrong. Only a fanatical psycho would think about genocide in the name of religion.

It makes me so mad, sometimes I think we should just nuke 'em all and let God sort 'em out.

Well, I'm done being polite. If I want to call a fifth of the world's population fanatical killers I will, and if they've got any objections they can come take a shot at me any time - my email address is out there for the world to see.

Come try it if you got the balls, Islamonazis.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Forth, Rosinante!

So, Don Tony has finally ridden into the sunset atop the flea-bitten nag of his international reputation to begin a new career tilting futilely at the immovable windmills of the world's most intractable blood-feuds.

Today, his faithful manservant Sancho Gordo will begin a seemingly impossible task - that of rebuilding public faith not merely in the Labour Party, but in British politics itself.

Blair's terminal years should please the (cough, hack) libertarians, at any rate, seemingly proving their contention that politicians act purely in their own interest and offer the public nothing.

After all, public confidence in politicians is at an all-time low, registering below traditionally hated professions such as journalism and the law. Given the relentless storms of empty rhetoric, scarlet-faced scandals and military missteps of recent years, it's going to be a tough task.

At the heart of this sorry mess sits Tony Blair, looking as guilty as a panting panda sitting next to a well-chewed bamboo sex doll.

Today, the Tory establishment's assault on the Brown government commences - he'll be too free with taxpayers' money, too meek before our European cousins, too fat, too graceless, too ugly, too Scottish. Brown could dig into his own pocket to buy each citizen a chocolate tit filled with vintage champagne and still be denounced for his miserliness.

That's a given - I'm more interested to see how British bloggers respond. After all, with Blair to kick around, differences were set aside in the pursuit of the Prime Ministerial hide.

As of tomorrow, that cozy arrangement is over - it's a good bet that at least half the bloggers in Britain will spend the day kicking Brown's ministerial appointments to pieces, and it'll all be downhill from there.

In America, the internet hums with rancorous vendettas as left and right bombard each other with stink bombs - will we see the same thing here?

I guess we'll find out today, won't we?

Tuesday, June 26, 2007


Confusion reigns in the village of Al-Khalis, north of Baquba, Iraq.

The June 22nd attack on the village as part of operation "Arrowhead Ripper" - a codename which reminds me less of Bunker Hill and Bull Run than it does of death's heads and lightning - saw American attack helicopters killing 17 gunmen.

Here's the confusing part, though - US military command describes the dead men as "Al-Qaeda", while the locals insist they were "village guards" who had previously been operating with Iraqi police.

Who to believe?

Well, I have a hunch that it's going to turn out that they're both correct.

Not six months ago, US Central Command told us that Al Qaeda militants only made up "no more than 2 percent or 3 percent of the folks killing Americans and Iraqis. Military spokesmen in Baghdad and the U.S. Central Command's Gen. John Abizaid said we'd decimated the al-Qaeda leadership in Iraq and the group wasn't likely to be much of a player in Iraq's future."

Amazingly, it now seems that the enemy is once more "al-Qaeda and likeminded radical Sunni groups". It's almost like playing whack-a-mole with screaming, bearded, exploding moles.

There's a simple explanation for all this of course, and we merely have to think outside the box for a moment to arrive at the obvious conclusion.

I'm sure most of you heard of the non-lethal weapons that the US Dept. of Defense looked at creating - the "Gay bomb" and the "Halitosis bomb" being my favourites.

Well, it looks pretty obvious to me that they've succeeded in developing an Al-Qaedification bomb - a weapon that strikes targets and transforms them from Iraqis into dead Al-Qaeda militants in the blink of an eye.

This is obviously a major breakthrough for the military, which has a shocking reputation for accidentally obliterating friend and foe alike - be they civilians, journalists, British soldiers, Iraqi troopers or Afghan wedding parties, at some point each have been erroneously vapourised by cutting-edge, poorly-aimed American firepower.

As it happens, I have a friend with the unlikely nickname of Maverick after a drunken night when he fell over while urinating al fresco and pissed all over himself and an acquaintance.

Though, to be fair, he did a lot better than the Americans, since he missed BBC correspondent John Simpson by at least four hundred miles.

Still, this is a testimony to human ingenuity - given the vast number of fissiparous factions fighting each other in Iraq, the ability to target only Al Qaeda militants is a massive step forward.

Surely victory lies just around the corner.

Monday, June 25, 2007

Monday Night Chess-Blogging

1. e4

A Look Ahead At This Week's News

Caesar Steps Aside
Premier relinquishes power "For Good of Party"
June 28th MMVII

There were emotional scenes in Parliament today as Caesar resigned from his post as Dictator For Life in a move intended to seal his legacy and further the interests of the Labour Party.

Caesar, clearly overcome with emotion, was unable to speak as his colleagues showed their immense gratitude for his leadership by surrounding him on the floor of the House. The announcement was made by Caesar's close friend and ally Broontus as Caesar disappeared from view amid an adoring throng of his supporters.

"All hail mighty Caesar, who in his wisdom has made the supreme sacrifice for the Party," cried Broontus, as Caesar was firmly and repeatedly congratulated by Cruddus and Harmanus. "His selflessness is an example to us all."

"Awk!" exclaimed an overwhelmed Caesar, as he received grateful claps upon the back, chest and neck from supporters. "Ag!"

"Don't let him get away!" shouted one colleague, struggling through the throng for his opportunity to pay his respects.

Caesar has ruled supreme since MCMXCVII and, following his decision to relinquish power, is expected to retire from domestic politics. It has been suggested that he may take up a position as tribune for the Levant, but such reports remain unconfirmed.

Broontus paid further tribute to the departing Dictator, then rushed across the floor of the House to join the crowd mobbing Caesar, prompting a cryptic statment from the former Dictator.

"U2, Broonte?" asked Caesar, in what has been interpreted as a reference to his friendship with popular musician Bonus.

Parliament will reconvene next Monday, beginning with a lengthy elegy marking Caesar's leadership, honesty and integrity.

Thursday, June 21, 2007

Modern Britain - The Public Speaks
"Somebody Needs To Do Something"
The Times, 21st June 2007

In today's exclusive survey, we can reveal the shocking state of public discontent in modern Britain.

In one of the largest studies of its kind, we gauged the opinions of 4000 people, asking them about key political and social issues - in every category, over 90% of respondents indicated that they were dissatisfied with the Problems.

The results will also shake the corridors of power, as it is revealed that the public believe that only one group is to blame for all of the Problems - Them.

"I don't know why They don't do Something," said Jennifer Oake, 24, whose responses typified the survey as a whole. "I mean, it's not like They haven't had long enough to sort It out."

From crime and immigration to public services, our survey showed that They are being held responsible for all of the Problems, and that public patience is wearing thin with Their failure to find solutions.

"Every morning I open my paper, and It's all terrible," said one man in his thirties. "They have really gone down in my estimation."

Others were more specific, citing their displeasure at Problems with the NHS, prisons and foreign policy.

"I've never seen the country in such a shambles," was the verdict of Matthew Barnes, 67. "When I was a kid we never had any of these Problems, but now They've let It get totally out of hand."

"I'm sick of Their lax attitude - Somebody should do Something about It, because it's clear that They have no intention of doing Anything."

Spokesmen for Them were keen to play down the results of our survey, citing possible methodological errors. "We have made great advances in all areas," They said, "and can assure the public that We will continue to address the Problems as they arise."

It remains to be seen how They will tackle Their most pressing Problem - public perception.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Bush Offers Blair Post-Prime Ministerial Role
"We've Found a Position That Suits Him Perfectly" - Rice
BBC News, 20th June 2007

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

While The Cat's Away...

Oh, the irony - David Duff finally takes a holiday, and no sooner have we waved him goodbye than the news explodes with near-pornographic indulgence of criminality and doddering, expiring race-baiters.

This is probably for the best, since David is knocking on in years and I'd fear for his health were he to clap eyes on a console game like Manhunt 2 - I suspect he'd just detonate like a strawberry 'n' semtex milkshake at the sight of the opening titles.

Who knows, perhaps if Duff emigrated to Australia we'd see the dawn of an era in which all who contravene the unwritten laws of political correctness are marched to the Gulag and government-issued fatwas require mandatory gayness.

Personally, I can't wait to see the news tomorrow. I'm hoping that they'll ban God Save The Queen, outlaw cars and that Tracey Emin will unveil a painting called Churchill in Drag to rapturous praise.

The Passion Of Saint Bernard

I've been something of a connoisseur of internet lunatics for a long time.

It's a rewarding, if occasionally alarming, pastime. Trying to keep a grasp upon the slippery logic in a post at Gates of Vienna, for instance, is much like watching a man attempting to work his head up his backside - utterly horrifying, yet weirdly compelling.

In all my years picking through the angry vomit of vengeful minds, however, I have never clapped eyes on a post like the one at Harry's Place today - occasional poster Brownie has pulled off an unthinkable feat by penning a screed even more spectacularly wrongheaded and flatulent than the comments that follow it.

In attempting to rehabilitate the reputation of the recently deceased Bernard Manning - a British comedian famous solely for the jaw-dropping racism of his material - Brownie performs a double-flip with a half-pike and a twist, landing cat-like upon the words Not racist.

My personal favourite is the part where Brownie insists that Manning's act was acceptable because he didn't live in the American deep South, a joyous leap into the abyss of illogic that would cause the Instapundit to arch an eyebrow.

Bear in mind that this is Harry's Place, a gaggle of witch-hunting Decent Lefties whose near-bloodhound sense of smell has previously detected rampant racism and anti-semitism in pizza slices, defending a comedian who made a comfortable living cranking out pig-ignorant stereotypes of Jews, blacks and Asians.

If Manning's act featured even a hint of self-awareness, I'd allow a little leeway - sadly, he was possessed of all the grace and elan of a pissed brontosaurus on a unicycle, and his entire act was a sorry mish-mash of gags about unwashed Pakistanis and black mens' dicks.

So what are we to make of this? It's only fair to note that at least half of the commentariat stamp furiously upon this suggestion as if it were a flaming turd on their doorstep, but I think we're seeing a more significant shift towards a case of full-blown Wingnuttus Maleficum.

Time will tell, but the fervent liberal-baiting in the comments bodes ill - various commenters queue up to attack the obvious villians of the piece, i.e. Guardian readers, Guardianistas, Guardian-reading lefties etc. etc.

Don't get me wrong - I've hunted and strangled hundreds of Guardianistas with my bare hands, as it happens - but at this level of lunacy it's surely only a matter of time before a small, bouncing green football appears atop the mast of the flagship of Decent discourse.

Monday, June 18, 2007

Appreciation of Modern Genius

How upsetting, that a shower of barely-educated cretins could have declared Salman Rushdie's knighthood insulting to Islam.

And how I wish that they could appreciate the beautiful, lyrical innovation of Midnight's Children, or the transcendent narrative grip of The Moor's Last Sigh.

If only the dry, satirical genius of The Satanic Verses could penetrate the Muslim world, all of us would feel the benefit of Mr. Rushdie's perceptive eye.

Mind you, the fucker has never paid me back the tenner I paid for Fury, massive pile of self-indulgent wank that it is. That was one of the worst books I've ever read, a tour de force of autoerotic analingus.

Now that I come to think of it, fuck Salman Rushdie - he's living at 43 Carnation Road, Romford under the name Disraeli Custard, and he works as a parking attendant at Acacia Towers, Camden.

I'm told he always appreciates visitors, when he isn't writing books as bad as The Ground Beneath Her Feet.

Beardie twat.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

Breaking News

Queens Of The Stone Age Abdicate
Nation Stricken With Grief
Reuters - 15th June 2007

The nation is in shock this evening following the unexpected abdication of the Queens of The Stone Age.

"It is with great sadness that I must announce that the Queens of The Stone Age have decided to step down," announced a Royal aide, reading from a prepared statement.

"I speak for the band when I say they've had a wild ride, but they believe that this is in the best interests of their subjects."

"To be honest, they've been rocking for a long time," he added in a personal aside.

Queens of The Stone Age have ruled triumphantly since the release of their album Rated R in 2000, easily fending off weak challenges from the Kings of Leon and Kaiser Chiefs. From the outset, their reign has been notable for brutal riffs, vocal harmony and screaming feedback.

In unprecedented scenes, loyal subjects flocked to city centres all over the world to mourn the sudden announcement. Large numbers of people wept openly, almost unanimously describing the decision as "Totally weak-ass."

"I haven't been so upset since I heard about the Dead Kennedys," said one crowd member. "I mean, who's going to take the throne now? Bonnie Prince Billy?"

"Give me a fucking break."

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Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Witness The Power Of The Free Market TARDIS

Political apathy is the curse of our age, or so I'm told. As elections approach, up goes the cry -More people vote for Pop Idol than vote in elections!

I've read that we're an apathetic nation because we're more financially secure than ever before, or because we're a feckless crowd of honking geese, happy to scrape endlessly in the grain-bucket of satellite television.

My favourite is The End of History, the significant capitals indicating that there are no more political arguments to be had and that unrestrained free markets are the pinnacle of societal evolution.

Such a view is clearly held by anodyne hack Daniel Finkelstein, who today demonstrates the piercing insight required of Times columnists by summarising the central thesis of Brink Lindsey's The Age of Abundance before picking up his paycheck.

In a nutshell, Finkelstein fervently agrees that the prosperous society of post-war America was single-handedly responsible for the counter-culture, the civil rights and the feminist movements. Such activities could not have existed without the consumerist urge to better oneself, he argues...

"The story of the Sixties is a story of the triumph of economic freedom, of the power of free markets to change lives and produce a more open, exciting society. So why doesn’t the Right embrace it? Why be happy to let the Left colonise memories of that decade?"

See? Had he lived, Dr. Martin Luther King would surely have held stocks in Lockheed-Martin and used the profits to start up his own psychadelic bible business.

Now, to your average Times reader, this is exciting stuff - claim the radical chic of the sixties, clothe yourself in true-blue tie-dye and shout Right on! for the genius of Milton Friedman.

Anyone with the ability to look deeper might question why it is that, in a time when the free market bestrides the globe like a colossus, its cheerleaders feel the need to plunder the crown jewels of cool?

At just the right side of thirty, I hope I can look dispassionately at the revolutionary spirit of the counter-culture. To my eye, it looks less like a glorious uprising against consumerist society than it does an extended beach party with a well stocked bar and some generous drug dealers.

It should tell us more about the type of nation they were revolting against that a few hundred thousand kids smoking grass and bad-mouthing the suits reduced the citizenry to quivering, animal fear, cowering before the sluggish onslaught of the Jefferson Airplane fans.

For all that there were thousands of committed activists and intellectuals achieving great feats in the fight for equality, the aftertaste of the era is Hendrix, long hair and acid. In other words, Finkelstein is essentially placing his boot atop the forty-year-old corpse of an unimpressive revolution that didn't happen on the other side of the planet, and claiming it as a triumph of capitalism.

Were I more emotional, I might hope that such a feeble argument might herald the extinction of the dot-com messiahs who spent the nineties assuring us that we should invest in the wares of their cronies, raking in a tidy profit in the process.

Alas, Finkelstein touches on the true tragedy of the love generation...

"It is a delicious irony that the biggest impact the hippies made was when they were coopted by the mainstream. Soon Booth’s House of Lords gin was being promoted as a way of “taking a stand against conformity” while Clairol took on the slogan “it lets me be me”..."

And how true that is. We're now left with a political culture that looks at protest as something to be feted in foreign lands, and publicly pissed over in British streets. So utterly has political dissent been co-opted into the mainstream - Get your kaffiyeh here, twenty quid! David Beckham/Che Guevara hoodies, in red white and blue! - that even the most massive demonstrations can be casually flicked aside by government in its stampede to plunge the nation into military catastrophe.

Anyone who's seen Taking Liberties will no doubt appreciate the "delicious irony" of a population that regards protest as the childish affectation of self-absorbed adolescents.

So what's responsible for political apathy in the modern era?

It could be that we're all just so delighted with our jobs, our holidays and our wide-screen TVs that none of us feel the need to bother our pretty little minds with political action. Perhaps we have reached the end of history after all?

Or perhaps its because in the last thirty years, every question about the direction of British society has been met with the cry, There is no alternative!

Monday, June 11, 2007

UK's Brown Makes Fucked-Finding Visit To Iraq

Britain's next prime minister, Gordon Brown, assured Iraq's leaders on Monday of continued British support as he made a flying fucked-finding visit to Baghdad to "listen and learn" before he takes office later this month.

"Well, I've listened and I've learned, and there's there's no denying what I've found," said the British Prime Minister in-waiting.

"Iraq is totally fucked."

Questioned by reporters, Brown added "And I'll be fucked if I know how to un-fuck it."

"I'll let you guys take over from here," he said to Iraqi lawmakers, while backing hurriedly onto a waiting RAF helicopter.

Saturday, June 09, 2007

War And Peacemaking

Let us note that yesterday marked 25 years since the bombing of the Sir Galahad by the Argentine air force, in which 48 British servicemen were killed.

Having been a toddler at the time, I can recall little of the Falklands War - thankfully, I have reasoned arguments from the great minds of the internet to remind me who the real villains of the piece are...

"Strange how you never hear the fucking Leftie bastards bitching and whining about the sinking of our ships whilst being more than happy to wring their hands over the dead of the General Belgrano (which was sunk entirely legitimately and anyone who says otherwise is a double-dyed cunt and pig-ignorant to boot.)"

Speaking as a fucking Leftie bastard and a double-dyed, pig-ignorant cunt, I would like to take this opportunity to say that I am opposed to the bombing of British naval vessels, even during wars.

I'm just glad to see modern Thatcherites posting such moving tributes to our war dead, since they might have been tempted to throw the kind of infantile, toy-flinging tantrum that has so justly condemned them to float like lonely turds in the political toilet for my entire adult life.

Hopefully this moment of remembrance will help rehabilitate their reputation from its present nadir as a shower of incoherent, vengeance-crazed nutters with all the charm and grace of a pack of flatulent pitbulls.

Thursday, June 07, 2007

Anubis Wants Me For A Sunbeam

"I consider the atheist's desire to generalise about religion to be a case of intellectual cowardice. The intellectual coward is one who chooses simplicity over complexity and difficulty. "

So says Theo Hobson at CiF today, variously describing atheism as pretentious, muddled, and cowardly.

His beef with "militant atheists" such as Christopher Hitchens and Richard Dawkins is essentially that they're rude, and sling insults like pissy snowballs at humble, earnest religious types.

I quite agree with Mr. Hobson - Hitchens in particular is surly, aggressive and self-important, character traits that have made him a rich man.

Nonetheless, we atheists should recall that we must be gracious when debating believers. Causing unnecessary offence is counter-productive to debate, and we should be measured and generous when asserting our views.

Personally, when I'm discussing religious issues with some boggle-eyed Jesus-freak, I try to be polite yet firm. If he starts spewing quotes from the risible, poorly-written fiction upon which he bases his worldview, I nod graciously and allow him the opportunity to express his credulous views.

Similarly, when discussing such matters with adherents of the other, equally ridiculous Abrahamic faiths, I let them drone on interminably about the wisdom of their semi-literate, desert-dwelling ancestors and I carefully consider the fatuous points they are making about their invisible superheroes.

At no point would I mention that soap was exorbitantly expensive in the times their prophets lived through, and the whole lot of them probably stank like a sockful of shitty camembert.

That would be rude.

Even though I may be imagining my debating companion as a cat-worshipping ancient Egyptian peasant, grovelling for a fruitful harvest before a malformed clay figurine of a woman with a lion's head, I always remember to be patient, polite and pleasant.

So I appeal to your better natures - please remember that tedious God-botherers are human beings, and deserving of our respect and civility.

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

The Islamofascists Want To Destroy Everything I Hate About This Country
By Melanie Phillips

It is with regret that I must chronicle the sharp plunge of Britain into the sewer.

The country I have loved since birth is now a third-world state brought down from within by traitors and useful idiots. The fifth-columnists of the media have brought this disgusting country to its knees, and now we await the fatal stroke from the bejewelled scimitar of Islam.

Or so it seems, but even yet there is hope - if the ancient, glorious cesspool we call Britain can cast aside its vicious, hateful anti-semitism and confront this urgent threat, there is yet hope that our stinking, putrescent nation may be delivered from the dread shadow of Dhimmitude.

If only our leaders would listen to me, Melanie Phillips, they would realise that we must immediately trap the politically-correct rats gnawing at the diseased ankles of this scabrous, syphillitic crackwhore - the scabrous, syphillitic crackwhore named Great Britain.

We must reject the servile professors of Britain's Dhimmiversities (whose eventual execution I do not relish in the slightest), not least for their failure to acknowledge the evolution of fanatical extremism in this country.

Not that I believe in evolution, since it is not a fact but a theory with holes in it.

And global warming is bollocks too.

Please buy my book.

(This has been Wingnut 101 with Melanie Phillips - Next week, Canada's leading asshole Mark Steyn tells us of his immense regret at the imminent destruction of Europe, leftist shithole that it is.)
Bush Criticises Russia, China
37 Killed In Outbreak Of Cranial Blow-Outs

Reuters, 5th June 2007

President George W. Bush has criticised Russia, China and various other states for democratic failings, human rights abuses and military aggression at a press conference today, causing the deaths of at least 37 journalists.

Citing Russia's "creeping authoritarianism" the US President, who has accrued more unrestrained power to himself than any other in history, accused Russian Premier Vladimir Putin of abusing the democratic process.

"What the Fuck?!" screamed veteran CNN correspondent Christine Amanpour, before her brains blasted out of her ears with a loud "Thwock!" sound, covering her colleagues in a fine red mist of sticky matter.

"I think she was a bit taken aback," said one witness, "Given the Republicans' massive voter suppression schemes and complete disregard for Congressional oversight, I think her brain just overloaded and came squirting out of her skull like two snotty geysers of ick."

Shouting to be heard over the cacophanous din of screams and popping heads, President Bush then lambasted China for overspending on military procurement and chided Russia for using its resources and economic power to intimidate its rivals.

"Justin was just making these strangled 'Buh-buh-buh' noises," said one journalist of his colleague Justin Webb. "I think he was trying to make a point about the $700 billion dollar defence budget Bush will soon approve, and then he turned bright crimson and his skull exploded like a stamped apple."

The conference room then filled with a noise like an enormous roll of bubble-wrap being trampled by a herd of white rhinos as an Administration official alluded to the lack of press freedom in Russia, including the murder of journalists.

"Anyone would think that they'd forgotten that the US armed forces have killed at least sixteen journos in the past five years," noted one hack while nursing a nosebleed. "One guy fell to the ground next to me screaming 'The gall, the sheer gall of these bastards!'."

"Then blue flames started belching out of his eyes and ears. It was horrible."

The Presidential entourage remained unaffected by the ferocious waves of cognitive dissonence emanating from the President, wincing at a particularly violent cranial detonation as Bush criticised Russia's "over-reaction" to his decision to deploy a missile defence system to Eastern Europe.

"Russia has nothing to fear from this purely defensive system," the President announced. "Our new offensive missiles, however, should fucking terrify them beyond continence, especially now that we've essentially surrounded Russia with US military installations."

By the end of the speech, the press contingent had been practically wiped out. However, administration insiders insisted that the bloodbath could have been far worse.

"It's just as well the President didn't attack Russia's sham democracy," said one insider.

"If he'd so much as mentioned the fact that the Russian political process is a shallow facade designed solely for the benefit of a tiny elite, they'd have been scraping brains off the roof in Burkina Faso."
Terror Trial Turmoil
White House Rushes Replacement Legal Team To Guantanamo
Justices Skippy, Hoppy known for "Strict Constructionist" interpretation of Constitution, Grass

Sunday, June 03, 2007

Nice Confederacy You Dunces Have Here

"(The Economist) does seem to have gone downhill lately..." notes the Instapundit.

Samizdata concludes that The Economist sucks, because "It does not provide coverage that ordinary newspapers do not."

You know, this reminds me of something I saw in the street the other week, when I overheard two homeless junkies discussing rock musician Pete Docherty's drug problems...

"That Pete Docherty's been doing smack again," one said, shaking his head.

"Really?" said the other, while trying to light a cigarette butt he'd found in the street. "What a loser, I always said that guy would never amount to anything."

"Yeah," chuckled the first. "I pity the useless jerk."

Then they both sloped off to shoot junk into their penises in a shop doorway.

Boycott Boredom, Trounce Tedium

The time has come for radical action - I am now issuing a call for a complete boycott on discussion of the Israel/Palestinian conflict.

I watched the Finkelstein/Aaronovitch debate on the topic today, and I didn't laugh once. In fact, I've never read a single decent joke about it, and any issue that can yield millions of words a day without producing any giggles is an issue I want no part of.

Take Charles Moore in today's Telegraph, for instance - What if Israel had abducted BBC man?, he asks.

"Loud would have been the denunciations of the extremist doctrines of Zionism which had given rise to this vile act. The world isolation of Israel, if it failed to get Mr Johnston freed, would have been complete."

While this is undoubtedly true, he's failed to address a more pressing question.

What if the Israelis came to Britain on holiday, got hammered on apple schnapps and proceeded to rampage through our town centres whacking the citizenry with giant rubber dongs?

How terrible the villification of these cock-wielding thugs would be!

But then, what if the Palestinians broke into the Telegraph's offices and sat on Charles Moore's desk squirting him with water pistols full of piss while he was trying to work?

Who would speak for the persecution of poor Moore at the hands of mischievous "militants"? Would the BBC summon the courage to denounce those piss-happy Palestinians?

I think not.

See? Not a single chuckle in the entire article, just another tedious round of Pin The Partisanship On The Public Service Broadcaster. I refuse to revisit this issue until both sides start fighting with custard pies and splat guns, and I hope you'll all join me in this trench.

The Middle East doesn't need windbags blatting on about biased media coverage - it needs a massive airlift of whoopee cushions, banana skins and slapsticks.

No leader should speak in public without the accompaniment of duck-whistles and a man with a little drumkit to ba-doom tish any witty one-liners or pratfalls.

Itching powder for Israel, plastic dog poo for Palestine - it may not bring peace, but at least it'll make for some entertaining headlines.

Friday, June 01, 2007

Political Illiteracy

Spotted yesterday on Waterloo Place - pre-election Nationalist graffiti reading Free Abla!
For those not in the know, Alba is the old Gaelic word for Scoltand.

How inspiring to see that my countrymen are prepared to bearthe mockery of their peers in the cause of indepednance.