Helping the Little Chaps Keep Up

Now that our new-found independence has given us yet greater freedom to be a force for global virtue, Her Majesty's Government has wasted no time in working to ditch the green crap that is the Paris climate change agreement. Once more defending corporate citizens against the bondage of regulation, the Conservatives have been nagging the Euro-wogs to make their energy efficiency standards voluntary rather than mandatory: a purely altruistic enterprise, since the Conservatives intend dumping all those standards once they've passed their Henry VIII memorial Great Retard Bill. Her Majesty's Government has also argued that, given that targets for renewable use are so far away, there is no reason why member states should bother making any progress towards them now. Muddling through at the last minute: it's the way Boris Johnson and David Davis do their homework, it's how the Conservatives wrote their manifesto; so it stands to reason, and common sense dictates, that it's the best approach for the benighted Euro-wogs, especially as it would mean giving everyone more time to come around to the Trumpster's way of doing things as regards dealing with that wacky, irresponsible Heathen Chinee sense of humour.

Amicable Arabs, Moderate Muslims

Our chums, customers and fellow-defenders of British values, the head-chopping House of Saud, are making ready to demonstrate once again their dedication to law and order. A man with impaired sight and hearing has been sentenced to decapitation for violent acts during a protest, the court making clear its disdain for delay and red tape by admitting no evidence other than a signed confession by the accused. He is also accused of sending texts, despite lacking the money for a phone; an anomaly which the pious minions of the head-chopping House of Saud presumably ascribe to sorcery. Surprisingly enough, despite his privileged status as the strong and stable vicar-spawn's other best chum, the Trumpster had better things to do during his recent visit than discuss human rights.

No-Nonsense, Straight-Talking, Getting Things Done

I am in receipt of a leaflet on behalf of my incumbent MP, Mike Freer, the gist of which is that I ought to vote for him because some other people will be voting for him. Various local people are pictured and quoted upon the merits of Mike Freer, while Mike Freer himself spends a paragraph listing his local achievements and the "no-nonsense, straight-talking 'getting things done' style" on which he prides himself. Nevertheless, he retains his inexplicable reluctance to express pride in the local food bank, which appeared on his watch thanks to policies which he helped to vote through. Doubtless future missives will be equally forthcoming about Mike Freer's pride in the NHS crisis, the need for the army to stand in for the police, the wrecking of the justice system, the continuing degradation of the environment, and all the other results of policies Mike Freer helped to vote through.

Then again, perhaps this one missive is enough. One of Mike Freer's fans notes that he is "not obsessed with Westminster" which, translated from the tactful, means that Mike Freer is a dutiful little backbench flunkey who almost always votes for what's put in front of him. When the Bullingdon Club were campaigning against cutting the country off from our single biggest international market, Mike Freer was a passionate pro-Remainer, as were most of his constituents. Now that Tin-Pot Tessie wants to tank the economy by leaving the single market and putting Liam Fox, David Davis and Boris Johnson in charge of international relations, Mike Freer is meekly pro-Brexit. Mike Freer may not be obsessed with Westminster, but given a choice between those he supposedly represents and those in charge of the feeding-trough, it seems clear enough who receives the greater share of his disinterest.

The no-nonsense straight talk of Mike Freer and the Conservative Party is equally evident in the flyer accompanying the leaflet, which squeals that Jeremy Corbyn is going to increase inheritance tax on homes worth more than £425,000 - "half the homes in the Capital". The source for this number is the London Evening Osborne, whose new Head Boy is not exactly known for being frightfully good with figures. It is a little unclear why metropolitan élitists such as myself, who are faced with frozen salaries and rising prices and perforce choose the luxury of rental, should vote for Mike Freer on those grounds. In any case, why should a hard-working family worry about inheritance tax? Will home-owners' children not be capable of earning their own mortgages in turn, by the sheer, Churchillian gumption of their Britishness? Given a free ride by the taxpayer, will they not suffer a certain lack of entrepreneurial motivation?

The flyer nowhere mentions the Conservative Party, except in the very small print where a certain Alan Mabbutt lets slip, with pardonable lack of fanfare, that he is working for them; but it does implicitly equate the supposed calamity of a Corbyn win with Trump's presidency and the Brexit referendum, which demonstrates a healthy perspective on both of those undoubted catastrophes. In a particularly no-nonsense, straight-talking and pride-worthy touch, the names of Mike Freer and Theresa May do not appear at all.

Sometimes the Old Ways are Best

Owing in large part to our staunch allies and customers in the head-chopping House of Saud, an old Victorian chum has returned to give the scroungers and shirkers in Yemen another firm yet fair lesson in the robustness of traditional British values. Thanks to the Saudi intervention and its British hardware, Yemen has all the advantages that make for a buccaneering, have-a-go economy: an infrastructure free of government interference; a water system unshackled by regulatory red tape; medical staff whose workloads and salaries are balanced to benefit everyone, provided one takes into account those necessary and appropriate adjustments which must be made according to how much a particular customer really matters. As a result, there is a cholera epidemic: just the thing to weed out the weakling metropolitan élites and leave a cleaner, stronger and more stable nation in its wake.

Entrepreneurial Buccaneering

An encouraging degree of progress appears to have taken place in our still nominally unaccomplished mission of redeeming Libya through British values. Despite the blind persistence of the swarming hordes, jobs continue to be saved for British workers in the Mediterranean; not least by armed Libyan coastguards who have been trained in human rights by the Royal Navy and who have taken up the suggestion by elements of our free and cantankerous press that refugees should be subject to discouragement of the projectile variety. A rescue ship run by the non-British SOS Méditerranée and Médecins Sans Frontières recorded armed coastguards pointing guns and opening fire to intimidate migrants on their continental invasion craft, and boarding one vessel with the apparent objective of taking the occupants' phones and cash into more legitimate ownership. Certain self-styled humanitarian organisations seem to think the coastguards can live solely on these inevitably slender pickings, and have suggested that Britain and the EU should withdraw their support. A spokesbeing for the Ministry of Wog-Bombing expressed awareness of the incident, adding: "We take all allegations of human rights abuses very seriously, and take them into consideration for any support we provide overseas," as the people of Yemen, among others, have recently had occasion to find out.

The Better Part of Vassalage

Perfidious Euro-wogs are attempting to undermine the special relationship between Global Britain and its bestest global ally by contradicting the Trumpster's declared opinion that climate change is a hoax by the Heathen Chinee. Faced with an embarrassing situation, Tin-Pot Tessie appears to have taken the British way out and said nothing at all, thereby showing up the New-Risen Empire of England, Wales and the Falkland Islands as slightly less assertive in its own self-interest than the head oligarch in Mussolini's city-state of theocratic sex pests. It's possible that the dead-eyed warden's discretion was an attempt to appease the Trumpster into some sort of reciprocal discretion on matters of national security and ongoing criminal investigations; or it may be that the woman who abolished the Department for Energy and Climate Change, and made the gormless Andrea Leadsom minister for the environment, was simply acting in the spirit of the new, independent, sovereign, buccaneering Britain, and falling meekly into line with her CEO.

Helping the Terrorists Win

Liberal metropolitan élitists have once more resorted to bullying and intimidation in the face of genuine patriotism. The English Defence League, despite being only recently recovered from the trauma of being smiled at by a nice young lady in Birmingham, assembled a small rabble in Manchester to show that today's atrocity was All About Them, but were outnumbered and even sharply addressed by indignant locals tainted with the virus of multiculturalism. Instead of calling for concentration camps like Allison Pearson of the Barclaygraph, or demanding a Final Solution like Katie Hopkins, or even blaming Jeremy Corbyn like the Hillsborough Truth-Teller, Mancunians seem to be pulling together and trying to help each other through the catastrophe while leaving the burden of witch-hunting and scapegoating to less trivial-minded citizens. Even the medical personnel, despite all the fragrant little hints which have been dropped on them from a great height over the past few years, were reported to be working overtime, without sparing a single thought as to whether or not any particular injury-treatment consumer might constitute good business.

We Did Not Fight In Vain

The United Nations high commissioner for refugees has professed himself shocked at the British values on display in Libya's arrangements for wog warehousing. No squeals of outrage have yet been forthcoming from the British Conservative Party at this blatant breach of sovereignty; possibly because they're all too busy trying to find out which manifesto pledges are looking a bit Nick Clegg, or possibly because the UN high commissioner for refugees does not happen to be a foreigner of dusky female persuasion. Anyway, it appears that harsh conditions are being gratuitously imposed upon the swarming hordes which have materialised in order to take advantage of the flexible passport situation and the buccaneering boat-hire. These entrepreneurial conditions have apparently come about thanks to a civil war which somehow broke out in Libya during 2011, coincidentally preceded by a wog-bombing campaign in which the British Conservative Party joined with such enthusiasm that the diplomatic editor of Britain's leading liberal newspaper has nothing whatever to say about it.

Cleaning Cycles

Given the undisputed and inalienable status of Global Britain as global leader in the fight against climate change (a status perhaps best epitomised by the image of the late Head Boy having himself photographed cycling to the day job with a limousine in tow), to say nothing of the toxic levels of urban pollution achieved by the greenest government ever, it will come as no surprise to find that the most radical and innovative strategies for cleaning up the air are being considered by the Heathen Chinee. As mayor of London, our own Imperial Haystack pioneered a bicycle rental programme which served mainly as an advertisement for Barclays Bank; a Euro-wog designer has now perverted the concept into a scheme to make innocent bicycle users clean up the air as they ride. This stands in stark contrast to the sane and sensible measures employed by Her Majesty's Government and soon to be subject to approval by Donald Trump.

Humanitarian Intervention

Aside from the usual suspects - saboteurs, citizens of nowhere, wog-marrying race traitors and the like - nobody could accuse Her Majesty's Government of an unbalanced approach to legislation. No new attack on the poor takes place without a corresponding kick at the crippled; every cut to public services or environmental protection has its compensatory subsidy for polluters and tax-dodgers. It should come as no surprise, then, that the Government has taken equal care with its new vaping regulations, which make it harder for smokers to switch and thereby ensure that the cigarette industry will not be unduly inconvenienced by the plain-packaging law. The vaping industry is less than ten years old, but has already begun intruding upon the markets of its elders and betters in the carcinogenic profitability club; self-evidently, like the solar industry at a similar stage of development, the young bounder needs taking down a peg or two. Equally self-evidently, it would be imprudent to rely on the free market to administer the rebuke; no strong or stable government can afford to stand by and allow some Stalinist purge of the business community to take place in the name of mere public health.