The Curmudgeon


Saturday, November 18, 2017

Plastic Dummies All at Sea

Given that a charge on the use of plastic bags has led to a massive reduction in the use of plastic bags, it is natural that the empty suit at the Treasury should be calling for evidence as to whether charges on plastic products might possibly lead to a reduction in the use of plastic products. Even if the call for evidence is not merely a bit of headline-grabbing green crap, the relevant minister is still the jabbering homunculus Michael Gove, and much of the evidence will inevitably come from experts and be full of pessimism and non-positivity and general doing down of our fracked and fossilled land. Environmentalists have gone so far as to claim that any resulting action will need to be coordinated, which rather rules it out from the start. The discovery that plastic litter is affecting even deep-sea fish has no doubt helped to concentrate minds among the slimy pond life that is the modern Conservative Party; but the idea that taxes on something other than prole food or female hygiene products could be part of a reasonable solution may need a few more decades to sink in.

Friday, November 17, 2017

Holy Alliances

Doubtless impressed with the moderation of its British-sponsored rampage in Yemen, the head of the Righteous State's military has been making friendly noises at the head-chopping House of Saud. The aim is apparently to start a crusade against Iran, which has invaded so many sovereign countries recently that even the free and cantankerous British press is often hard put to name one. Evidently the recent domestic re-arrangements among the head-chopping House of Saud have done much to help it qualify as a moderate Arab state; which is to say, one which is willing to join with the region's apartheid nuclear power in jihad against the hated Shia. Of course, from the days of P W Botha to the twilight of Priti Patel, the Righteous State's military has long been known for its amicable dealings with moderates.

Thursday, November 16, 2017

According to the Flesh

For every woman who will make herself male will enter the Kingdom of Heaven.
Gospel of Thomas

Thanks to those energetic people at the Christian Legal Centre, the latest attempt by the Established Church to gain a toe-hold in the twentieth century looks set to be as reasoned and charitable a process as that little business of accepting gays into the priesthood provided they behaved themselves and didn't get up to anything naughty. The Church has issued guidelines directing its faith-school staff not to bully transgender pupils and proclaiming that children dressing up is not anathema. Predictably, this has caused consternation among the faithful, many of whom apparently believe not only that gender is divinely ordained and therefore irrevocable, but that it is determined at birth, rather than at conception as mere scientists have claimed, or even when differentiation takes place in the foetus, some thirty weeks before the potential convert is ejected from the womb. One such biological revisionist, who presumably believes in spontaneous generation or delivery by stork, is due for a disciplinary hearing on the grounds that he has failed to fall in with what the Christian Legal Centre is pleased to call "the current transgender fad". Like so many of the persecuted and reviled who also happen to have a steady income and a measure of worldly power over the vulnerable, he does not appear to have noticed the guidelines in the Sermon on the Mount about the appropriate circumstances for rejoicing and being exceeding glad.

Wednesday, November 15, 2017

We Have Taught Them Much

We are all aware, because historians of the calibre of the Imperial Haystack have informed us, that the only tragedy inflicted upon the wogs by the British Empire was that its boot was removed from their necks too soon for their own good. Nevertheless, as those who favour Chinese-style working conditions for the mainland's own proles have observed, many of our rebellious beneficiaries do have remarkably advanced ideas when it comes to red tape, green crap, and health and safety. In Delhi, for example, thanks to a healthy construction industry and an appropriate respect for the rights of motorists, the air quality is such that even the Imperial Haystack's London legacy pales into near-cleanliness. Mere doctors have declared a public health emergency; but India, like the mainland, is governed by right-wing religious lunatics who have had enough of experts. Hence, the efficiency and foresight on display is worthy of the British at their best: having planned to disperse the smog by dropping water from helicopters despite declaring much of the city a no-fly zone, the politicians have now discovered that the helicopters cannot take off anyway because of the smog. It remains as yet unclear whether the Imperial Haystack has offered to sell his little brown brothers any used water-cannon.

Tuesday, November 14, 2017

More Uppity Colonials

Difficult though it may be to believe, there are places in the world still so primitive that cries of coup and treason can be provoked by tanks in the streets, rather than by the squealing ire of tax-dodgers as happens in more developed societies. In what the Foreign Secretary would doubtless call the country of Africa, some very angry piccaninnies are apparently gearing up to get rid of Robert Mugabe, the Rupert Murdoch of Southern Rhodesia, who now plans to pass on his troubled empire in accordance with family values. Zimbabwe's most powerful general has threatened to step in, and military vehicles are reportedly advancing on the capital, owing in part to the absence of a civilising solution from the Recrudescent Imperium, which would presumably comprise plastering a statue of good old Cecil with a special power-sharing paste made from the ashes of Ian Smith.

Monday, November 13, 2017

Independent Financial Advice

So fair are the forecasts and so profitable the prospects for the newly-liberated Recrudescent Imperium of Westminster, Gibraltar and the Falkland Islands that at least one representative of the Farage Falange's parliamentary wing has advised his chums in the financial sector to clear out good and fast. Elderly readers of my own generation will remember John Redwood as the doll-eyed woodentop who extolled the virtues of water privatisation by conjuring up visions of consumer-choice baths with ten or twenty taps, each run by a different company. As the very considerable Secretary of State for the Province of Wales, by appointment to the equally human John Major, Redwood's most famous achievement was failing to learn the national anthem and giving a piscine performance in which his boiled-fish eyeballs were complemented by his goldfish mouth. These days Redwood supplements his expenses claims with a six-figure salary as a "chief global strategist" for the well-padded middlemen at the Charles Stanley Group; and although like most dead-eyed woodentops he regards realistic and optimistic as synonymous for the purpose of tweeting to the proles, it appears that his fiscal self-interest has finally outshouted his political allegiances. Fortunately his political allies are unlikely to notice, as most of them are quite as brilliant as Redwood himself.

Sunday, November 12, 2017

The Poppy-Wearers to Their Heroes

We wafted you off with our bellows for blood,
To show off your guts, to be mown into mud;
We certainly respect you.

And now, with your posthumous praises awarded,
Our plastic and paper can well be afforded;
For they will not affect you.

Barker Standfast

Saturday, November 11, 2017

Seeds of Triumph

A plastic posy struts the streets,
Saluting each stout chap it meets
With face blood-red and nose blood-black,
Exhorting all to bold attack -
And to recall, yet once again,
The greatness of our living men:
Those suited heirs to glorious dead
Who profited, and died in bed.

New heroes must be called to pop
Their cheery selves over the top:
And so the swollen head explodes
To scatter patriotic loads:
These clouds of opiated spores
Make good, clean fun of all our wars;
And suckers all who take them in
Recall who won, and think who'll win.

Victor Finestock

Friday, November 10, 2017

Hitler Wanted to Unite Nations, Too

Gunboats may be required at New York as a malign cabal of piccaninnies, fuzzy-wuzzies and the perfidious French conspires in a hostile buy-out of Britain's jolly old share in the International Court of Justice. The UK has had a judge on the court since it was set up in 1946; but the present representative is at risk of ejection in a run-off vote with an uppity Indian, and this despite the Imperial Haystack's diplomatic sense of humour and ability to quote Kipling. The incumbent's achievements on behalf of world justice include obeying orders from Lord Goldsmith to deem the Iraq invasion justified, and being fulsomely praised by the Other Milibeing; so the loss would clearly be devastating.

Thursday, November 09, 2017

Rude Questions

Given that we are only a few days from the annual ceremony for remembrance of who won the bloody war anyway, it is particularly tactless of the Euro-wog Führer in charge of punishment beatings to start throwing his weight around Tumbledown Tessie's vulnerable Sudetenlands. Nevertheless, Michel Barnier has demanded that the blithering prima donna David Davis and the gibbering former Minister for Werritty come up with, of all things, a plan for the future that involves some sort of concrete idea about what the future ought to look like. One would almost think that visions of a prosperous, independent nation of cake-having cake-eaters amounted to something less than a reasonable basis for negotiation. Even the UK's fair and reasonable offer to treat EU citizens as not quite illegal immigrants, and to create a nice new Home Office database just for them, has been churlishly spurned; and many Euro-wogs appear content to bask in their prosperity under the mistaken impression that they don't have to share it with the mainland. What can be the problem?