Vergangenheitsbewältigung, Boy

Britain's Head Boy has toddled along to Jamaica, where some mean-spirited persons have called on him to apologise for the slave trade which brought them to their holiday destination. Daveybloke responded with a bit of a burble in which he called on the uppity wogs to draw a line under the whole distasteful episode. Slavery has no place in a civilised society since it has, after all, long since ceased to be profitable for anyone except the kind of dubious African entrepreneurs who are seeking to inflict more migrants upon us. As an advocate of purely indigenous forced labour, Daveybloke expressed his pride in having abolished the slave trade and his abhorrence of an institution which places all the responsibility for feeding, clothing and housing the unwaged on rich people instead of on the Trussell Trust. Daveybloke simpered that rich people and their little brown chums, having helped each other through so many delightful adventures, ought now to move on from the painful legacy of misplaced benevolence on one side and shirking on the other, and proceed about the more important business of making money in a low-tax economy. According to a spokesbeing, Britain's Head Boy has informed the Jamaican prime minister that the "long-standing position of the United Kingdom is that we do not believe reparations is the right approach", a position coincidentally shared with many long-standing offenders.

Justly Proud

Snapshots from the venerable world of British law and order:

A have-a-go heroine has had her manslaughter sentence halved, and could be back in action in less than a year. As a mother of five, she got drunk and righteously perforated a neighbouring paedophile, thus winning herself the sympathy of all law-abiding, hard-working families. The judge noted that she "never disputed responsibility for the killing as a matter of fact, did not take the opportunity to get rid of evidence and demonstrated remorse". Having turned herself in to the police, she said to an officer, "Who houses a fucking paedophile on an estate, like, seriously? He was, like, asking for trouble"; but it is unclear whether she had any plans to take a carving knife to the landlord.

A magistrate was suspended from his position and has now resigned after donating £40 of his own money towards the depredations of an asylum seeker. The marauding swarmer in question was prevented from working in case he stole a British job, but still somehow lacked sufficient funds to pay the British state for protecting British citizens against him. The Ministry for Profitable Incarceration responded with a proclamation that "the charge [for a fair trial] is separate to the sentence and should not be considered as a mitigating factor", which certainly clears things up.

The idea of forcing people to pay for their own trial was broached satirically in the 1985 film Brazil and instituted by the walking satire Chris Graybeing and his little yellow helpers during the coalition. Graybeing's successor, the equally silly but somewhat slicker Michael Gove, is persisting with a Graybeing-era contract to sell British offender management techniques to Saudi Arabia, which has just sentenced a man to be decapitated and crucified. Gove cannot cancel the contract because, as always, the "wider interests of the British government" are at stake. Fortunately, the UK opposes the death penalty in all circumstances, so the job will be over and done with in six months. Makes you proud.

The Wog You Save May Be Your Own

Britain's Head Boy has had a bit of a simper about sending troops to Africa. Assuming this isn't another jolly jape along the lines of his pledges to the British public about managing the economy and saving the NHS, the troops will be used to train African Union peace-keepers in Somalia and South Sudan, and will not be involved in combat operations unless it can be done in an appropriately sneaky and underhanded way.

Naturally, Britain's Head Boy made little or no pretence of being interested in peace for its own sake: Daveybloke wants Somalia to quieten down because "it’s good for Britain, it means less terrorism, less migration, less piracy; ditto South Sudan." The relegation of some twelve million people to a ditto is almost as delightful as the lumping-in of refugees with terrorists and pirates; and given the marvellous fist which Daveybloke and his chums made of saving Libya from itself, the whole of north-eastern Africa (ditto the British Conservative Party) is no doubt simply agog with anticipation.

Appropriate Incentivisation

Well, here's a thing: for a quarter of the nation's wage-slaves, the national living wage will not provide a living. The Confabulation of Business Interests is already squealing that paying people nearly enough to live on will grieve entrepreneurs, increase unemployment, prevent hardworking families who want to work hard and get on from fulfilling their British values, and so forth. Nevertheless, a resolutely-monickered think-tank has provided due reassurance that the increase in the minimum wage will be more than compensated for by the Bullingdon Club's continued mugging of those on social security; particularly now that the category of undeserving poor has been so generously widened to include those who are employed.

Drone for Peace, Gag for Freedom

In a devastating display of British values, an exhibition called Passion for Freedom, which includes images of Muslim women chained up and about to be stoned for adultery, has censored a work featuring cuddly toys threatened by Islamic fundamentalists. The police told the gallery that Isis Threaten Sylvania, unlike the Great Wall of Vagina, was potentially inflammatory and would incur an extra £36,000 in protection money should it go on display, despite its having already been on display, without terroristic incident, at the Royal College of Art last spring. Since the artist, a Syrian migrant, claims that the events in her imaginary scenes came true after she assembled them, perhaps the security services might care to waterboard her a bit, or even take the toys in and rearrange their stuffing.

Clear and More or Less Potential Danger

Green parliamentarians and other threats to national security have begun a legal challenge over the British Government's policy of extrajudicial assassination. Caroline Lucas, Jenny Jones and the human rights charity Reprieve are plotting a judicial review over the lack of, if you please, a policy on murdering British citizens in countries with which Britain is not at war. Of course, the matter has already been amply clarified: until a proper armed conflict comes along, perhaps as a result of welfare reforms, the Government has reserved itself the right to kill British citizens whenever it judges them a potential, direct, likely or imminent threat; or, in Standard English, whenever it dashed well pleases.

The Threat From Green Crap Has Never Been Greater

State subsidies for renewable energy sources have so besmirched the pristine purity of the market that more green crap than coal was used for the entire quarter between April and June. "Government support has driven down the cost of renewable energy significantly and these statistics show that has successfully enabled renewables to compete with other technologies," a spokesbeing complained, while pledging that the drive towards a low-carbon economy would be duly accelerated by slamming the brakes on low-carbon investment. For the present, the only redeeming details in a generally discouraging picture are the continuing supremacy of gas and the Osbornomically-assisted rebirth of nuclear, which in combination with the Dash to Frack will propel us on winds of methane into an earth-shaking new era of best value for money for all those hard-working bill payers who hope one day to make the journey from the upper reaches of the energy cartel to their seats in the House of Donors.

New Best Chums

Since Britain's wind and waves are irremediably tainted by the possibility that they may at some point have been breathed out by Euro-wogs or drowned in by migrant swarms, Britain's Head Boy's monitor in charge of tuck-box has gone on a smirking holiday in China to get help in rolling back the green crap. Given the present abundance of sustainable uranium in the world economy, the chancellor hopes to entice the Heathen Chinee into building a nuclear power station in Essex; apparently he plans to accomplish this by raising human rights questions at every opportunity. Meanwhile Amber Rudd, the token filly at the Department for Energising Climate Change, chipped in with a bit of a simper about how strict our regulations are, which is why the Heathen Chinee want to come here before irradiating more entrepreneur-friendly countries. It is as yet unclear how far, if at all, Amber Rudd intends to regulate any fracking that may occur beneath the reactor chamber.

The Infiltration Continues

Another loony-left liberal has crawled from the Corbynite closet to threaten Britain's national security and ancient badger-busting rights. The muesli-munching director general of the CBI told a corduroy-packed conference of sandal-clad entrepreneurs that the Government's reversal of green policies was sending mixed messages and would result in lost investment. The mixed messages, of course, are all the fault of the last Labour government which, hard as it tried, failed to align itself sufficiently with the policies of its successor. Notably, Labour passed the Climate Change Act of 2008, which requires governments to interfere in free markets beyond their elected terms, and which is despised as a slur upon British democracy by ministers and back-bench baboons alike. The Department of Energy and Climate Change, which recently decided to take a Liberal Democrat approach to mere pledges, responded with a slightly edited press release from the brilliant Iain Duncan Smith's Department of Workfare and Privation, in which level playing fields and hard-working families received all due homage, and in which the Government promised to continue helping the green industry stand on its own two feet by fracking the ground from under it.

Payback Time

Lord Ashcroft biffed off to Belize
And there had a jolly fine wheeze:
Commission some polls,
Attain Tory goals -
And after, what might he not seize!

But what is a poor chap to do
When the help will not give him his due?
Eight million quid
Seems a fair enough bid
For an office of state, maybe two.

We cannot but say it again:
Lord Ashcroft''s the nicest of men;
Though sometimes, mayhap,
He'll claim that a chap
Will fuck a dead pig now and then.

Humper Hogshead

Profit Makes Patriots

Until the snooper's charter is passed in full force and at last empowers everybody to spy on everybody else, our brave spooks must defend British values as best they can. Since torture is inconvenient, and treating Muslims as normal citizens is out of the question, MI5 has resorted to paying selected legal Islamics to spy on their fellow aliens. This is at least as economical a means of getting information as strapping people to gurneys and half drowning them; and the presence of financial incentives means the information itself could be nearly as reliable. Nevertheless, as one would expect, radical imams are already denouncing the whole idea, with one hate-preacher calling for an apocalyptic programme of "genuine community engagement".

Offending Management

Wishy-washy liberals in the prison officers' union are blaming, of all things, efficiency savings for recent disturbances in the offender-packaging industry. Riot squads were called in last Saturday to take assertive managerial action at separate facilities in Cambridgeshire and Lancashire; and the Prison Officers Association is trying to shift the responsibility onto the Ministry for Profitable Incarceration, which in real life has no responsibility for anything except funnelling taxpayers' money towards hard-working families like Serco and G4S. The loony lefties at the POA even went so far as to blame "a lack of purposeful activity and prisoners being unsupervised" when, as we all know, in a fiscally responsible prison system supervision and purposeful activity must be earned, not taken for granted.

Behind the Times

British values, as our Head Boy recently proclaimed, do not include free speech or leaving people alone just because they haven't done anything illegal. Accordingly, Britain's Head Boy has been tale-tattling in Big School about radical students who continue to defy his programme of cultural cleansing. A London university has responded with some asperity to the Head Boy's accusation that it played host to extremist preachers, although it is certainly true that the preachers in question spoke against such long-cherished British values as usury. The heretical university is the School of Oriental and African Studies, which apparently believes that there is more to the world of wogs than plotting to privatise their water or encouraging their children into the local equivalent of National Service. The university's insistence on information and definition over the question of what constitutes a "hate or extremist speaker" only serves to confirm that, even today, there is a long, hard way to go before the taint of evidence-based thinking is fully expunged from higher education.

It's A Texas Hole, So Keep On Diggin'

Horror at clock terror bomb fury

Enforcement professionals in the Christian state of Texas have released new evidence to justify their arrest and interrogation of a 14-year-old man for bringing a suspicious device to a school.

An incriminating photograph of the "home-made clock" showed that it had wires like many bombs. However, realising that harder evidence would be needed, officials also produced conclusive proof that the suspect had a Muslim name.

"He calls himself Ahmed Mohamed and that's the clincher," said Texas enforcificator Claiborne T Minuteman.

"Anyone going under an alias like that ought to be real careful about showing stuff with wires and stuff during 9/11 week."

The suspect was saved from being shot to death and posthumously defamed only by his relatively modest melanin content, securitisation personnel said.

Muslims have a long and troubled history of engagement with "science". During the Middle Ages, Muslim philosophers and doctors were among the best in the known world.

Many historians believe that this prevented the Middle East at that time from greatly resembling either mediaeval Europe or modern Texas.

Corbynundrum

He has no idea how to dress!
His jacket and tie are a mess!
We've called him right out
With snigger and shout -
But why won't he talk to the Press?

We've called him all things, more or less:
A fool who will fail to impress,
A Communist muppet,
Islamazoid puppet -
And yet he won't talk to the Press!

It's causing us terrible stress!
We cannot imagine or guess
What imp of perversion
Has spawned this aversion
And made him not talk to the Press!

Rupert Brooks

A Wedgie for the Wog-Panderers

Whatever else may be lacking at the Home Office (competence, honesty, decency and occasional acquaintance with the present universe being only the top items on a very long list), not even the mad old cat lady's barracuda stare can hide the fact that the ministry possesses a fully functional, true-blue sense of humour. The Home Office has responded to inquiries from the public about helping Syrian refugees with a document advising people to contact Naccom, a group of organisations dedicated to aiding and abetting asylum seekers. Naturally, the charities lack any infrastructure to cope with the demand; even more naturally, no representative of Her Majesty's Government bothered to contact anyone at Naccom before the document was published; and most naturally of all, there will be no Government funding to help matters - the Big Society thingy, the free market and the marauding swarms will just have to sort it all out among themselves. Meanwhile, the belches of Bullingdon glee will be ricocheting up and down Whitehall for weeks.

Painful Viewing

A recent edition of Panorama is under investigation by the regulator because its depictions of CIA torture methods were insufficiently cuddly for one viewer. The programme reconstructed various methods of enhanced interrogation, as used by the defenders of democracy whenever extrajudicial assassination just isn't subtle enough. Prior warning was given that the report might be disturbing, but it appears that somebody sat through it anyway and then complained of having been disturbed. It is as yet unclear whether the letter of complaint was signed by Tony Blair or Jack Straw; nor is it clear whether the substance of the complaint was that depictions of torture should not be disturbing, or merely that disturbing scenes should not be broadcast, with or without warning, before the magical watershed that protects infants of all ages from everything except advertisements, the news and daytime TV.

New Toys in the Great Game

The Ministry for War, the Colonies and Wog-Bombing has refused to confirm or deny that British military personnel are collaborating in the CIA's assassination programme. A spokesbeing was prepared to admit that the US has let embedded personnel from the mainland play with its toys "in support of operations in Afghanistan, Libya and Iraq", but declined to clarify whether the two fiascos and the war crime have now been spiced up with a bit of murder by remote control. Providing answers to the proles on such a delicate subject would obviously jeopardise international relations in a way that mere Libya-smashing, Yemen-whacking or Paki-bombing would not.

Bleaching the Pachyderm

Soulless bureaucrats with no appreciation of the finer aesthetic instincts of the Bullingdon school of public works are to launch an investigation into a minor, if representative, instance of the Osbornomic miracle. Since poverty and homelessness are now things of the past, the chancellor has thrown thirty million of taxpayers' money at a project to build a garden bridge over the Thames; and has induced the London Haystack, who never saw a white elephant the proles couldn't pay for, to match the funding. The architectural contract was awarded to Thomas Heatherwick on the grounds of large cost and little experience, which are of course the identical criteria used in selecting ministers from Chris Graybeing to Michael Gove to Jeremy C Hunt and beneath; but it seems that Parliament's public accounts committee has decided to take a stodgy, Stalinist view of the matter - and this even though, in the best Osbornomic tradition, yet more money will be required before the real cocking-up can begin.

Won't Somebody Consolidate the Children?

As every expenses-claiming member of the British Neoliberal Party knows, there are three kinds of problem in the world: those that can be solved by wog-bombing, those that can be solved by badger-busting, and those that can be solved by throwing taxpayers' money at private companies. Children in care, it appears, have been assigned to the third category, doubtless with an option on the first should we bring back conscription (or, to use the retro-fashionable euphemism, National Service). Britain's Head Boy has decided that vulnerable children, like people in prison, are a jolly sight too expensive for the Osbornomic miracle to cope with, and therefore need whipping into shape with a bit of market buccaneering and entrepreneurial gumption. Britain's Head Boy considers it a moral imperative (viz. a financial expediency) for the Government to streamline its functions by ceasing to concern itself directly with the welfare of the country's citizens and concentrating on more important matters, such as how much money can be screwed out of the taxpayer for the benefit of those poor but honest folk at Serco and G4S.

They Do Not Queeble

Note to Appendix CLXXXVII of the Prolegomenon to the 384,917th quadribinkly report on activity in the field-wave sentience

As observed in the footnote to the thirty-seventh note to Appendix DCCCXXXIV of the previous report (384,916th quadribink), immature wavelets emanating from the funball Sol have stimulated random protein activity on Globular Obstruction No.3 of that system. The wavelets have been reprimanded, but owing to an oversight the activity on the globular obstruction was permitted to continue for another semi-quadribink (viz. 4,000 million GO3 orbits or even less), and has reached a point of considerable diversity. The crust of GO3 has become infested with proteinoids, of which a minority are sufficiently developed to mix with amino acids and other dark matter, and are now attempting to utilise certain portions of our collective anatomy to broadcast crude and boastful messages, apparently on the assumption that the universe is full of proteins awaiting the latest tidings of other proteins. The broadcasts cause us no ill effects, although they do itch at times. The activity on GO3 is expected to subside of its own accord, due to the natural instability of the proteinoid form and the consequent lack of queebling which might otherwise result in new additions to the general field-wave sentience. Accordingly, no action need be taken.

Making Manchester Safe

Britain's Head Boy has spent the last few days trying to look as if he cares about brown people, and it has obviously been an uncomfortable experience. Accordingly, today he had a bit of a burble to try and move the debate back into the Westminster comfort zone of killing brown people in numbers slightly larger than four thousand a year. Britain's Head Boy dismissed the frivolous fripperies in favour of what makes headlines in the scumbag press: "not just spending money, not just aid, not just diplomacy, but it will on occasion require hard military force." Britain's Head Boy expressed disapproval of both Bashar al-Assad and Islamic State, both of whom butcher people without utilising such civilised methods as drone aircraft and cruise missiles, let alone the liberating statesmanship exemplified by the Reverend Blair during the saving of Iraq. Britain's Head Boy would like to help end the butchery in Syria by butchering a lot more Syrians, thus incidentally stemming the migrant swarm by reducing potential refugees to collateral damage before they can be indiscreet enough to get their children washed up on beaches. With the party conference only a month away, Britain's Head Boy wants to look like a leader instead of a chubby-cheeked school bully struggling to manage as a junior salesman; and that will require not just spending money, not just aid, not just diplomacy, but it will on occasion require hard military force.

Normal Is As Normal Does

Even in the present cynical age, certain times of year have a special aura; a delicate, poetic atmosphere tinged with the remembrance of past joys and redolent with anticipation of a bright future to come. High on the list of such happy times is, of course, the run-up to yet another new bout of Conservative cripple-kicking; which makes it all the more tragic that various charities and other left-wing troublemakers have chosen to taint the occasion by seizing upon the verbal maunderings of the mentally incompetent. The brilliant Iain Duncan Smith has been assuring hard-working families that Britain's gimps, mongs, retards and spazzes can expect "exactly the same support into work" that normal people get; which is simply to say that every scrounger and shirker in the land will soon be pestered, patronised, bullied and robbed to exactly the same degree no matter what adjustments might normally be made by a socially and ethically reasonable human being. Naturally, the troublemakers have taken the brilliant Duncan Smith's words out of context and are using them in a calculated attempt to blacken the name of our most witty and compassionate parliamentarian since Geoff Hoon. We can only hope that his famously delicate sensibilities are able to withstand the strain.

Our Moral Obligations

Two narrow, hollow little things, namely the head and heart of Her Majesty's Government, have at last come together to produce an expectably small, hollow and narrow response to the refugee crisis which Her Majesty's Government has done so much to bring about. Part of the foreign aid budget will be diverted, and twenty thousand Syrian refugees will be admitted over the next five years; at the end of which they will be designated as asylum seekers, given over to the tender mercies of Serco and G4S, and booted out, or else designated as economic migrants and simply booted out.

While he was on the subject of ghastly wogs, Britain's Head Boy also announced Her Majesty's Government's official adoption of extra-judicial assassination by remote control, the American counter-terrorism policy which has done so much for peace and freedom in Washington DC. The whole thing was approved by Britain's Head Boy's attorney general, who knows all about the rules in Big School; and also by the Minister for Wog-Bombing, whose calm rationality and sense of perspective were on such salubrious display during the recent election campaign.

No Help Required

Desires and emotions are complex, we know,
Where faith is quite simple, and true, and just so.
Each life must be honoured, protected, we deem,
Unless it belongs to the other chap's team.

And in that respect, no mere legal Bill
Can match our inflexible "Thou shalt not kill",
Which all through the ages, right down till today,
Has guided the pious on whom they can slay.

But proper morality cannot extend
To taking control of your personal end;
Because we all feel that it's frightfully wrong
To shorten such pain as our gods would prolong.

Rev. Sorbus Malbarb

Policing By Consent

Conservative plans to give the NHS-patented paralyse-then-privatise treatment to the police will receive a sharp moral endorsement from the activities of some rotten apples in the International Corruption Unit. Somehow or other, despite the British Neoliberal Party's constant striving to remove red tape from wealth creators, Britain has become a major centre for corporate fraud, money-laundering, property scams and all those other delicious hijinks whereby the wealth of nations is shovelled into the pockets of hard-working families. Britain's Head Boy has had a bit of a simper recently about the need to curb the corrupt activities of any foreigners who don't happen to be Rupert Murdoch; but the seriousness of his intentions may be gauged from his appointment of the well-known expenses claimant Eric Pickles as anti-corruption tsar. Certainly he cannot have expected the police, however much they may still be part of the hated public sector, to start going out and messing with his chums. Fortunately for the wealth creators, the chancellor and the mad old cat lady at the Home Office are even now plotting the next round of cuts, to be followed in short order by their contracting out the whole enforcement industry to those reliable people at Serco and G4S.

I'm Not An Inquisitor, But

Having suffered one or two strategic setbacks in the war against the objectively disordered, the Vatican has opened a new front against transsexuals. The Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, known in more pious days as the Supreme Sacred Congregation of the Roman and Universal Inquisition, has declared that transsexuals cannot be godparents because they have manifestly failed in the "moral requirement to resolve one’s sexual identity problem according to the truth of one’s sex"; said truth to be infallibly determined by some ostensibly celibate men in frocks and their invisible friend. This is not discrimination, because the Vatican says it isn't; so that's all right.

Not Quite So Full Up as We Had Been Led to Believe

Britain's Head Boy has had a bit of a burble about the refugee crisis. Apparently his handlers have warned him that pictures of dead toddlers sit rather badly with Rothermere-Stürmer rhetoric about marauding swarms, and even the father of Little Ivan™ (remember him?) can hardly be unaware of the propaganda potential of detrimented infantine resources. Britain's Head Boy proclaimed that "we are taking thousands of people, and we will take thousands of people", presumably just as soon as the Home Office and those reliable folk at Serco and G4S have drawn up plans for appropriate accommodation. Britain's Head Boy stressed the need for a final solution to the problems posed by excess wog mobility, and in particular the need for "a new government in Libya". It seems that someone or other has very carelessly deposed the old government in Libya without leaving anything viable in its place; but Britain's Head Boy apparently chose not to dwell on who the culprits might have been. Britain's Head Boy instead had a bit of a burble about President Assad and the Fighting Sons of Tony in the Middle East, while the London Haystack obligingly backed him up with some blather about sorting the telegenic from the scroungers and looking harder at the prospect of wog-bombing Syria, since wog-bombing always leads to such alluring results.

The Nightmare Continues

Fury at migrant horror

Rail passengers between Britain and France have suffered yet further agonies due to the wrong kind of migrants on the line.

The crisis has prompted fears of a humanitarian catastrophe, with trains being halted and re-routed because of migrants attempting to get through the Channel Tunnel.

In extreme cases, passengers and rail companies have been forced to make alternate arrangements for travel and accommodation.

Rail companies said that every possible emergency measure would be taken, but that the main problem was "the wrong kind of migrant."

"If they were a bit thinner, or more of them were children, we could just plough on through and keep going," the spokesbeing said.

"Unfortunately, most of these swarms are strapping young men who have been fed on a regular basis, and red tape prevents the company risking damage to its rolling stock."

Passengers complained that the sight of migrants clinging to the roofs of trains caused them to fear for their salaries.

As an afterthought, Britain's leading liberal newspaper noted that some people had died.

Tougher Than Us

While Britannia squeals and clutches her pearls at the thought of five thousand poor devils swarming up her from Calais, twelve thousand Icelanders are calling on their government to take in more refugees. Four per cent of the country's population, the equivalent of something over two million Britons, have signed an open letter asking the government to increase its quota and offering help, education and living space. Iceland, of course, is a Viking colony, with a far more robust economy and culture than we Brythonic tribespersons could ever hope to achieve.