The Curmudgeon

YOU'LL COME FOR THE CURSES. YOU'LL STAY FOR THE MUDGEONRY.

Saturday, May 26, 2018

Our Patience Will Achieve More

British values continue rampant among Her Majesty's Government's favourite Islamic fundamentalists, whose commitment to law and order can only be admired by the traitor police and feminazi-hunters in the Recrudescent Imperium of Westminster, Gibraltar and the Falkland Islands. Crown Prince Mohammed, Tin-Pot Tessie's third-best international chum after the Trumpster and his hydrophobic head-tribble, is cementing his reputation as a moderate and centrist social reformer by imprisoning activists who campaigned for women's right to drive: a right which the head-chopping House of Saud will be granting in a month's time, though of course without going to extremes. Some governments have condemned the arrests, but the Recrudescent Imperium has taken a more nuanced position because, in contrast with the outrages against human rights perpetrated by the likes of Russia, Iran, Venezuela and Brussels, with the head-chopping House of Saud a discreet word in the right place is considered more effective; particularly when accompanied by another shipment of thoroughly practical aids to wog-bombing.

Friday, May 25, 2018

Careless Talk

Those notorious fifth-columnists at the Office for National Statistics have provided yet further proof of the need for immediate privatisation and staff purging. With the Recrudescent Imperium about to break free from the shackles of the Brusso-Strasbourgian axis of non-prosperity, the ONS maintains that the worst collapse in economic growth since the Osbornomic miracle cannot be blamed on either the weather or the wogs. Even the Bank of England is flirting with citizen-of-nowhere pessimism by awaiting, of all things, more evidence before attempting any repeat of the banking sector's hit performance of ten years ago. So thoroughly has Britain's robust and rampant economy been talked down that there is even some risk of thrift among the households of our entrepreneurial yeomanry. Should the plebs decide to save their money like tax-dodgers, rather than throw it around like spendthrifts, then the prospects would be bleak indeed.

Thursday, May 24, 2018

Gavin's Ceptic Discharge

Something called Gavin has been flapping its adolescent genitalia at a roomful of senior navy figures, some of whom may possibly have seen worse. The navy's defensive missile system, which was named the Sea Wolf by a native speaker of Standard English, is to be replaced with Gavin's new toy, which has been named the Sea Ceptor by a native speaker of Whitehall rah-and-blah. The new system is designed to deter attack by Russia and other potential rivals, such as Russia. Gavin noted that Russia has increased its submarine activity in the Atlantic and has approached Britannic waters thirty-three rimes in the past year, compared with only a single time in 2010. This shows the increasingly aggressive assertiveness of Russia, and has nothing whatever to do with the increasingly whiny weakness and isolation of the newly-independent Recrudescent Imperium. Gavin also plans to send some frigates to the Gulf next year, because in a time of unprecedented uncertainty (far more uncertain than the Cold War, the World Wars, the Cuban crisis or the last time Gavin tidied his bedroom, for instance) there are few things more stabilising than a frigate or two, provided they happen not to be from Russia, or partially manufactured in Russia, or designed in Russia, or traced to Russia by a reliable source such as Boris Johnson. In a previous adventure, Gavin has expressed the wish that Russia would go away and shut up, but as of the present instalment it remains unclear whether Russia has properly absorbed the boy hero's ticking-off.

Wednesday, May 23, 2018

Something In It For Ourselves

The doom of the species by natural forces,
The drowning of cities with human resources,
The growth of the desert, the loss of the ice,
The tragic extinction of weather that's nice;
The prospect that gardening, hosepiping Man
Might languish beneath an indefinite ban:
These various prospects, it now is asserted,
Might best be enjoyed by being averted;
And should we prevail, let memorials state
That, faced with the need to determine its fate,
Our civilisation resolved to survive
And, seeking excuses for staying alive,
Found no reason better, no urgency deeper
Than that in the long run it's probably cheaper.

Samuel Grimsnipe

Tuesday, May 22, 2018

Trading Blows

Is there no end to the sneaking perfidiousness of those perfidiously sneaky Euro-wogs? No sooner does the dead-eyed warden announce that HM Prison UK will require a truly global environment for its hostilities, than the fiendish foreigners conspire to start pinching our Commonwealth. One might almost think that they read our newspapers; or even that there might really be people in the world who are faster off the mark than the vole-brained former Minister for Werritty. Of course, the ghastly Euro-wogs have tilted the playing field in characteristically cunning fashion, by imposing EU rules on Britain just because Britain happens to be a member of the EU and then, worse yet, by insisting that Britain remains bound by EU rules for exactly as long as Britain remains a member of the EU. Still, despite this new Nazi-style trick, and once our antipodean penal colonies have been reminded of their proper place within the Recrudescent Imperium of Westminster, Gibraltar and the Falkland Islands, the former Minister for Werritty will doubtless be able to negotiate something far more advantageous; always provided he has the backing of a nuclear submarine or two.

Monday, May 21, 2018

No Room for Blame

So concerned is Her Majesty's Government with what is happening in Britain that even the Home Office will occasionally notice, provided of course that what happens is sufficiently calamitous. Having spent the past eight years presiding over a boom in homelessness, the Government issued new guidelines at the beginning of this year specifying that local authorities should not target people for sleeping rough; although they can of course be targeted for being antisocial, behaving suspiciously or physically resembling an illegal immigrant with intent to cause a dilution of Britishness. Despite this laudable concern for fair play, it appears that certain uncharitable councils are handing out fines and prison sentences as though every day were a royal wedding day. A Home Office spokesbeing was at pains to emphasise that the Home Office is not responsible for such unfortunate occurrences, since the Government has stated its commitment to supporting the vulnerable and disadvantaged, and therefore bears no blame whatever for any Government policies that may happen to deliver them a good kicking instead.

Sunday, May 20, 2018

Bad Theology

Text for today: Luke 17 xxvii-xxxvii; Luke 18 i-viii

After telling His disciples that the coming of the kingdom of Heaven will be a massacre along the lines of the Flood and the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, Jesus tells a parable about a judge who neither fears God nor respects humanity. A widow importunes the judge about her case, and eventually he resolves to give her justice for the sake of a quiet life. Hearing the judge's decision, God boasts that He will quickly give justice to His elect, but nevertheless questions whether His avatar will find faith among the people of earth.

In the parable, assuming that right is on the widow's side, justice is done without recourse to either holiness or philanthropy, and is thereby shown to be a mere earthly luxury. The judge acts from pure self-interest, and would no doubt be undiscerning enough to give justice to anyone at all, whether or not they belonged to God's elect, from the same tawdry motive. Holy vengeance and holy favour, by contrast, are both purely arbitrary, as Jesus has just emphasised in His foregoing remarks about His Father's approaching kingdom of flood, fire and brimstone.

The Saviour's own attitude to the importunities of needy women is apparent from the episode of the Canaanite woman, whose cries for help He seems happy to tolerate indefinitely. Hence God's rhetorical question at the end of the parable: Jesus eventually helps the woman not out of a desire for peace and quiet, but as a reward for faith and flattery. It is these, and not mere earthly notions of what is just or unjust, that carry weight in the kingdom of heaven.

Saturday, May 19, 2018

Not Quite His Sort of Latin

Having recently been sidelined over the Irish Question, the Imperial Haystack will soon be biffing off to Latin America which, although full of foreigners, has the indisputable advantage of being a very long way away. The Haystack will lay a wreath in Argentina, to commemorate the sainted Thatcher's famous victory over the forces of Michael Foot; and will also be visiting Peru and Chile, apparently in the hope of persuading their respective governments to throw money at British bankers once Her Majesty's Government runs out of taxpayers. The Haystack's accustomed humorous plain-speaking on such matters as the humane virtues of Augusto Pinochet and the hilarious racial characteristics of the dago species will no doubt go down a diplomatic treat.

Friday, May 18, 2018

Renewed Consolidation for Sustainable Pacification

Since the late Head Boy, with his famous good judgement and veracity, declared Victory in Afghanistan four years ago, it should come as no surprise that the Recrudescent Imperium has been called upon to double its military presence in that ever-fortunate country. Happily, thanks to the joined-up thinking which is nearly as common in Her Majesty's Government as joined-up writing, Britain's armed forces are shrinking while being simultaneously engaged in twenty-five separate bits of overseas liberation, peace-keeping and democratisation training. Despite the swingeing cuts initiated by the late Head Boy and his chums, and despite the inevitably entertaining combination of ministerial outsourcing and Capita's computer skills, they are also failing to recruit and suffering some little irregularity in the old moral fibre. Nevertheless, prompted by the megalomaniac squeakings of his hydrophobic head-tribble, the Trumpster keeps on ordering his subordinates in Downing Street to send reinforcements and help the Kabul democracy to prosper. It is to be hoped that the Ministry for Wog-Bombing can scrape together sufficient wherewithal to mount one final glorious crusade against those mad mullahs and their terroristic minions who, even after all these years of Western guidance, are still not civilised enough to realise that they've been beaten in a fair fight.

Thursday, May 17, 2018

Woolly Thinking

City parks in Rome are becoming overgrown because, despite the past several years of fiscal discretion and technocratic efficiency in government, the authorities cannot afford to pay anyone to look after them. Lacking the entrepreneurial gumption to implement a British solution such as flogging off the good bits for development, walling off the rest and hiring a private security company to keep out the poor and incentivise "voluntary donations" from visitors, the ruling Five Star movement is considering the use of sheep and other animals to keep the grass under control. The proposal has been greeted with derision in some quarters: "What will we do with the faeces left by the sheep?" asked one worthy who is apparently unaware that animal faeces are biodegradable; while a political opponent asked if the mayor would also be providing geckoes to get rid of summer mosquitoes. All irreverence aside, it remains to be seen whether the Roman authorities will have sufficient vision to recruit assistance from the Vatican, and thus provide constructive employment at last for one of the world's most concentrated populations of shepherds and crooks.

Me at Poetry24:
Pharisee and Publican