Bad Theology

Text for today: Hebrews 3 iii-vi

Addressing a Jewish faction of the Jesus cult, the author of the epistle accounts Jesus greater than Moses on the grounds that a builder is greater than the house he builds.

A house is less worthy of honour than its builder, since the house merely provides shelter, whereas the builder might create anything from a temple to a torture chamber. God is the builder of all things, and has indicated on any number of occasions that He regards human beings as mere objects to be demolished and recreated at His whim. Given the number of times His creatures rebel against Him, He is also remarkably incompetent at building according to His own standards of quality, however thoroughly He may have approved His own handiwork during the first chapter of Genesis.

By comparison with the Saviour, Moses was somewhat lacking in zeal: he persuaded the great architect against wiping out His own chosen master race (Exodus 32 vii-xiv), but Jesus extended the virtuous genocide to destroy the whole world. Moses was faithful after the fashion of a houseboy, which is all very well; but Jesus is the owner's son and heir, whose favour can be bought with blind obedience. As a mere servant constrained by bureaucratic legalism, Moses was in no position to offer his people such generous terms of servitude.

Transparent Innocence

Those with nothing to hide have nothing to fear; which doubtless explains why Her Majesty's Government has spent the past year refusing to release documents that would make clear the lily-white purity in the conduct of a former Cabinet minister. Owen Paterson, who as a climate change denialist was appointed Minister for Floods, Badger-busting and the Environment in the Bullingdon Club's first administration, has been caught lobbying for two private companies which retain him as a "consultant." Like many a happy-go-lucky politician before him, Paterson does not consider representing his constituents to be a full-time job, and the stipend he receives from the Covid profiteers outweighs his parliamentary salary by some twenty thousand pounds. Hence, in accordance with market forces, he is a "consultant" first and a parliamentarian second; which will presumably be taken into account by his fellow expenses claimants when they vote on whether to be tough on crime by letting Paterson off his thirty-day suspension.

Still Doing Fine, Oklahoma

After a six-year moratorium following the triumph of humanity that was the Lockett experiment, the Christian state of Oklahoma has resumed its love affair with killing drugs. A convict with the usual convenient racial profile had the privilege of testing the state's hundred-thousand-dollar death chamber, and suffered only fifteen minutes of convulsions before being declared unconscious. Compared with Lockett's forty-three-minute exit, this constitutes an improvement of four minutes and forty seconds for every single one of the half-dozen years which the Christian state of Oklahoma has spent pondering the problem. Doubtless this enviable rate of progress explains why the department of corrections subsequently corrected events for the record, proclaiming that the execution took place "in accordance with protocols and without complication."

Gaul Bladders

Not content with insisting that Her Majesty's Government abide by a treaty just because somebody or other in Her Majesty's Government happens to have signed it, the beastly Euro-frogs are ramping up the perfidy with maritime provocations exacerbated by, of all things, confrontational language. Even so close to St Crispin's Day, the ghastly sovereignty-stealing migrant-passing Nazi-Soviet oppressors cannot keep a civil tone while the master race informs them how an issue is going to be resolved. Doubtless this same dearth of British phlegm was to blame for the unconstructive Euro-frog reaction to a recent stab in the back by the Triple Alliance against the Heathen Chinee. With regard to fishing rights in British sewers, Her Majesty's Government has summoned the French ambassador for a ticking-off and ordered a partial mobilisation of the Royal Navy, which certainly ought to damp things down a bit.

Cross Purposes

The Commons public accounts committee has taken a discouragingly simplistic approach to the world-beating Britishness that is the Hancock and Harding test and trace system, even going so far as to imply that its "main objective" had something or other to do with public health. Matt Hancock, with his well-known expertise on the female form, appointed as its head the ludicrous Dido Harding, an amateur marketing executive whose tenure at TalkTalk cost the company millions because nobody bothered to check whether customers' data was secure. When faced with such trivial matters as helping people not to die of a pandemic, Harding took a similarly relaxed attitude; but her zeal in throwing NHS funds at private profiteers was justly praised. Nevertheless, the Commons public accounts committee persists in the pretence that a Conservative secretary of state for health might have mere biological health on his mind when setting the gravy train in motion.

Law and Ordure

In order to shelter the taxpayer from higher water bills, Her Majesty's Government is resolved to continue allowing water companies to pump raw sewage into rivers and the sea. Since heavy rains are expected to increase thanks to the climate change which Her Majesty's Government has done nothing to prevent, Her Majesty's Government has done much the same sort of nothing to strengthen the country's sewer systems. The water companies have done a similar nothing, because reducing shareholder profits in the public interest is against the national religion. The prospect of building back better with a cesspit as the foundations has caused vague disquiet even to a few Conservatives, so Her Majesty's Government is open to the idea of letting water companies come up with a plan to reduce their sewage discharge at some point in the next quarter-century.

Yet More Treason

Under normal circumstances, it is about this time of year that the great British public traditionally celebrates its democracy with bonfires and firework displays. On or about the fifth of November, it is usual to commemorate the Christian forgiveness accorded some co-religionists of the Reverend Blair and the National Johnson, when a demonstration of their populist respect for Parliament resulted in some jolly games with racks, ropes and sharpened implements. However, certain namby-pamby local authorities are using the pandemic as an excuse to ban English patriots from illuminating their humane and tolerant heritage with the burning in effigy of a Papist mercenary. It is regrettable that nobody thought to utilise the more patriotic excuses of market forces and national sovereignty, as with the Government's cancellation of Christmas, rather than mere public health concerns.

The Father of Teeth

Text for today: II Bicuspid xvii-xxiii

There was once, said the Father of Teeth, a screenwriter, showrunner or victim of involuntary celibacy (I forget which), who proposed to conclude a long, dark and tragic sequence of fictitious events by invoking the multiverse; which is to say, in essence, that the tragedy of a particular character is tragic only in a limited sense, given that infinite analogues of that same character exist in an infinite array of alternate universes, at least some of which must, by the law of averages, be more benign than this one. And so, said the Father of Teeth, I appeared before this showrunner or screenwriter or whatever, and amid much wailing and gnashing of teeth (we divided those particular labours along the expectable lines), I informed him that, in case he hadn't yet worked it out, he himself existed in one of those less fortunate universes. Specifically, by the grace of his Creator he inhabited a universe in which arrays of alternate universes arranged along more comfortable lines were conceivable without being attainable. And so, said the Father of Teeth, this involuntary celibate or screenwriter or showrunner (perhaps he was all three) took another look at the long, dark and tragic sequence of fictitious events which he was preparing to inflict upon a sentimental public, and proclaimed himself a god of sorts and his opus a universe in itself. Of course, said the Father of Teeth, baring his seventeenth least worst gnashers in a grinful of multifarious hazards; of course, one of the more fortunate aspects of the present universe - or unfortunate, depending on your point of view - is that it happens to be one of those in which many gods are edible.

Salvination

From the dark realms of the beastly Euro-wogs has emerged a sobering example of what can happen when a country fails to follow Her Majesty's Government's approach of granting everybody immunity to do anything provided they do it to a migrant. The former Italian interior minister Matteo Salvini faces charges of kidnapping and dereliction of duty for refusing safe harbour in a three-week standoff with a shipful of Mediterranean migrants. They were not, you will observe, refugees, since the wog-bombing of Libya was in part a British adventure for which, by definition, there can only be hard-working beneficiaries or quasi-terroristic shirkers and ingrates. It remains as yet unclear whether Salvini will plead the Britishness of his approach in mitigation.

Youth Opportunities

Some people have the strangest ideas about the purposes of private companies. Their primary legal and moral purpose is to make a profit for their shareholders, and the present religious orthodoxy dictates that there should be as few restraints as possible on their opportunity to fulfil this unimpeachably virtuous function. Nevertheless, even after more than four decades of ever-increasing national zeal in the service of that holy doctrine, there remain a few who are still capable of wondering why, for instance, private companies in charge of children in care should put the interests of their investors above those of the merchandise. Certain stiff-necked and recalcitrant elements have even gone so far as to suggest that the spectacle of companies taking cash-strapped councils for every penny in return for substandard services might indicate some sort of flaw in the sublime perfection of market forces. The British solution, of course, will be to get the children into the labour market as fast as possible (the National Johnson's commitment to the environment will surely soon endow us with a healthy demand for chimney-sweeps) so that they can start earning enough to buy shares in their own accommodation and improve conditions for themselves.

Careful What You Pray For

Crusaders for the free movement of traffic have won a significant victory over the beastly Muslims, who had plotted to turn the Golders Green Hippodrome into an Islamic centre. The facility would have been in use every day, causing residents to express wholly non-racist horror at the un-British idea of being religious more than one day a week. Despite the usual pious pleas for tolerance from leaders of all the major religions and the Church of England, a minority also gave vent to concerns about the infidel. As a result of all this constructive criticism, the building has been given over to an international happy-clapper corporation whose founder has been charged with complicity in child-rape; and I am sure we all hope that the residents, with their legitimate and understandable concerns, feel safer now.

No More Plans Than You'd Expect

As every liberty-loving patriot would hope on the eve of the National Johnson's greenwashing rah-and-blah in Glasgow, Her Majesty's Government has announced that it has no plans whatever to help change anyone's behaviour. An academic report recommending that public choices be manoeuvred through government policy towards keeping the planet habitable, rather than manipulated by the scumbag press to keep on kicking the poor, was briefly published alongside the Government's net-zero aspirational burblings and then almost immediately withdrawn. It was bad enough for metropolitan élitists to imply that Her Majesty's Government should interfere with the free market by any other means than lying, gerrymandering and good old-fashioned force; to imply that Her Majesty's Government should listen to scientists and experts was nothing less than an act of blasphemy against the national character and an insult to those who died for our pandemic experience in all its world-beating Britishness.

Oiling the Wheels

Among the more fundamental bedrocks of that moral tower which lifts the master race so effortlessly above the lesser breeds is an ethical absolute demonstrated time and again during the pandemic and doubtless enshrined somewhere or other in Magna Carta; namely the fundamental principle that science must yield to profiteering. The Science Museum itself was founded as the Museum of Patents, and various fossil fuel companies are continuing the noble tradition by monetising the Science Museum in return for suppression of science. The museum is taking money from Shell, in return for not damaging the company's goodwill or reputation; and an Energy Rah-rah Gallery, scheduled to open in 2023, will be sponsored by a company which is planning a major expansion of its own business in coal. With the National Johnson's greenwashing rally gurgling up for the bully-off, it was presumably this world-beating level of scientific Britishness which made the Science Museum a natural choice for hosting some of the preparatory futilities.

Barred Eagles

Local democracy has made itself felt in the best High Tory style in Norfolk, where a project to re-introduce Britain's largest birds of prey has been cancelled in the face of widespread support from people who don't matter. Anonymous sources, doubtless with nothing to hide or fear, claim that farmers expressed worry about white-tailed eagles helping to reduce the nation's consumption of red meat; that estate owners were worried about their watlands (and, since the birds originated in Poland, presumably their plumbing also); and that the Huntin' and Shootin' lobby had expressed a proprietary concern that their pheasants and partridge might fall prey to the avian migrants, which have not been present in Norfolk for two centuries and are far from being white all over. It would certainly be a tragedy should the numbers of game birds become so far reduced that they had to be hunted before being shot. Such an arrangement would be so unsuited to the well-bred Englishman as almost to approach the sporting.

Bad Theology

Text for today: Exodus 32 xxv-xxix

After the embarrassing incident of the golden calf, Moses calls to him all those who are on God's side. The tribe of Levi gather around him, and he orders them to go throughout the camp and murder their brothers, their companions and their neighbours. The sons of Levi kill about three thousand men, and Moses congratulates them on their ordination in God's service.

Like many other successful dictators, war criminals and génocidaires, God inspires His henchmen to form an élite caste and bonds them together through an act of blood-letting and renunciation. The act of conspiring to commit a ritual atrocity is useful both in severing the ties of common humanity and in strengthening the mutual dependency between those involved, and God is doubtless to be congratulated upon His foresight in creating humanity after His own bloodthirsty and malignantly co-dependent image.

Undoubtedly it was a similar moral insight that inspired the Saviour when He assured His disciples that many of their own people would be sentenced to eternal damnation before they could be granted the chance of a redeeming grovel. There can be few better teachers in the art and psychology of mass murder than the God of Abraham, the God of Moses, the God of Elijah and the God of Him who came to fulfil and not to abolish.

Radiating Britishness

As part of the nation's epic journey back to the nineteen-fifties, the miracle combination of British engineering and nucular fission is once again being touted as the ultimate solution to the energy crisis thingy. Since the country is surrounded by waves, broiled by sunlight and governed by wind, the British idea of a green revolution is the building of sixteen little Sellafields, to take advantage of our inexhaustible native quantities of sustainable uranium. In order to compensate patriots for any inconvenience caused, the atomic piles will bear the Rolls Royce insignia rather than any of those toxic foreign trademarks, and will doubtless be constructed in the back yards of people who have a conscientious objection to panels and turbines or who simply don't matter very much.

On the Distinction Between a Statistic and a Tragedy

170,000
Compared to the wider economy here,
A few thousand plebs are the smallest of beer.
Just think of the profit we now stand to make
While having and eating and keeping our cake.

1
Another member of our club
Has been struck down, so let us blub;
We'll go on fighting for our druthers,
And never spare the cost to others.

Aleksandr Vissarionovich Ivanov

Streetwise

Something most unusual has happened. A Conservative politician has resigned; though not exactly over his initial gaffe, which was merely to imply that women might avoid being murdered by policemen if they would only do some work on law enforcement instead of leaving it all to the police. Demonstrating why he is a former PR man, the commissioner of North Yorkshire police subsequently blamed the media for broadcasting words which he had spoken during an interview for broadcast by the media; and with true-blue Conservative respect for democracy and personal responsibility, he refused to resign even after a unanimous vote of no confidence. He could not be sacked because the first Bullingdon Club administration had the foresight to withhold the power to dismiss police, fire and crime placemen should they lose a no-confidence vote, and what eventually tipped the balance and caused him to resign remains as yet unclear. Possibly he was annoyed at himself for not having been offered the Metropolitan Police, or even the Ministry for Affordable Justice.

The Realism Business

Pragmatic moderation has joined with sensible decency at the dynamic centre of the plinth of entrepreneurial practicality with just a naughty touch of jingo, as the shadow minister for business called upon the National Johnson to grow up and bring the Heathen Chinee to heel like a proper British viceroy. The National Johnson, it will be remembered, has already sent a gunboat down the Strait of Formosa; but the Heathen Chinee have subtly and enigmatically ignored him and are continuing to expand their use of fossil fuels. The Western Powers, having strained their sinews for two centuries getting the carbon dioxide count past four hundred and twenty parts per million, consider it only fair that the Heathen Chinee should bear the burden of getting it back down again; but the fiendish Orientals evidently see things from quite another slant. Concerned lest the Cop26 blah-blah should prove a wasted opportunity, despite the recent track record of the host country in meeting its international obligations and co-operating with its neighbours, the Milibeing urged the National Johnson to start acting like a statesman, since no moderate realist worthy of the title could deny that his performance would convince simply everybody. Unfortunately, a pedantic extremist from Greenpeace was on hand to reiterate the only fact that really matters; namely that come heat and high water for the plebs and the poor, the consequences of the climate emergency will not be borne by those mainly responsible for causing it.

Loving Fathers

As one would expect of an institution whose connivance at repeated and persistent child-raping has the full authority of the Saviour, the Church of Rome has bounced back with righteous rapidity from its little embarrassment in France. After an initial expression of shame and horror, evidently with a mental reservation, the Archbishop of Reims maintained, in line with the dictates of Mussolini's joke city-state, that the rules of the Church take precedence over the laws of those countries in which the Church operates and takes due advantage of the statutes of limitation. Although the French minister of the interior has attempted to persuade the Archbishop of the error of his ways, it remains as yet unclear whether the Saviour has informed His infallible messenger about any change of heart.

Putting the Great Back in Plague

Thanks to their foreign moral fibre and lack of entrepreneurial fortitude, to say nothing of bureaucratically downsized metric graves that only hold one foot, many states among the beastly Euro-wogs are lagging behind the mainland in terms of opportunifying health care providers and undertakers. Although the master race has vaccinated a similar percentage of expendables to its West European enemies, infection rates remain world-beating by virtue of the stoic British refusal to maintain social distancing measures or vaccinate undeserving children. Deaths per head of English breeding stock are the most world-beating in western Europe; which no doubt explains why the National Johnson has chosen to face his various national crises from a healthy foreign clime.

The Father of Teeth

Text for today: I Canines xlvi-lxiv

Once upon an untime, said the Father of Teeth inaccurately, the Creator of a neater universe than this one resolved to ensure that the time between Creation and Apocalypse would be relatively peaceful and not require too many troublesome interventions. So he made the world with only twelve people in it, and within three days they had formed into two tribes of six and were fighting like mad. "To hell with this," said the Creator, and he drowned them all in a flood and started again. This time he made the world with only nine people in it, and within three days they had formed into three tribes of three and were fighting worse than before. "Bugger this for a lark," said the Creator, and he sent a plague to eat them up and started again. So he made the world with only four people in it, and within three days they had formed into two couples, two adulterers, two murderers and two corpses. "O ye of little faith," said the Creator, and he caused the survivors to hang themselves and started again. So he made the world with only three people in it, and within three days there were two allies and an outcast, which was natural enough but very noisy. "Vae victis," said the Creator, and he blasted them with a thunderbolt just as the stoning was getting under way. So he made the world with only two people in it, and within three days they weren't speaking to each other, which was quiet without being peaceful. "I have sinned greatly in thought, word and deed," said the Creator, and he rained fire and brimstone upon them. So he made the world with only one person in it, and that person died of loneliness; so the Apocalypse of that universe, said the Father of Teeth, when it came, was indeed truly peaceful.

Disgusted of Toledo

The archbishop of Toledo has issued the standard apology and plea of ignorance after a regrettable episode of what the Reverend Minnie Bannister would have diagnosed as sinful modern dancing. Thanks to some Satanic intervention, the cathedral authorities have permitted the building's use as the setting for a sexually suggestive music video for a piece titled "Atheist." The cathedral's dean apologised for any hurt feelings while pointing out that the lyric implies a conversion through human love; but this was nowhere near penitent enough for the archdiocese, which issued a grovelling statement of repentance and abjuration and promised never to do it again. Given its recently exposed iceberg-tips in France and Canada, it is of course eminently predictable that the Church of Rome should wish to apologise for the house of its nasty little god being implicated as a site for consensual sex between adults.

Controls on Immigration

Patriots will recall that Libya was gloriously democratised ten years ago in a wog-bombing carried out by the first Bullingdon Club administration, with help from its American allies and the Liberal Democrats. Over the past decade, the general collapse precipitated by this typically well-planned bit of peace-keeping has fomented instability across north-west Africa, with immeasurable benefits to the kind of hard-working families who make a good honest living from dealing with migrants. The glamorous Libyan coastguard receive assistance from the best armed forces in the world, just like the fun-loving security apparatus of the head-chopping House of Saud. Hence, patriots will rejoice that British values appear even now to be on the rise in Libya, with migrants being kept in a hostile environment featuring levels of rape and murder to which the Cressida Dick Firearms and Rough Sex Club can only dream of aspiring.

Irreconcilable Cultures

One of the many difficulties with living in a police state ruled by laws, rather than a democratic People's Plutocracy ruled by Rupert Murdoch, is that the cut and thrust of political debate tends to become blunted and listless. Where every important question is reduced to a legal technicality, the terms of which are mercilessly enforced by a robotic army of bureaucratic clones, there is no room for the civilised exchange of viewpoints and big-tented tolerance of the right sort of people that has developed in the Sun-lit uplands of the United Kingdom. Doubtless this partially explains why the beastly Euro-wogs persist in misunderstanding the entire purpose behind the mainland's cutting-off of the Continent, and thus why yet another foreigner with another funny name has called upon the UK to tone down the political rhetoric, as though there were actually something to talk about. Such is the ongoing tragedy of the Strasbrusselsian dictatorship, beside which a few weeks in winter without light, heat or food are the merest bagatelle.

Fiscal Pogrom

Not content with the bestial atrocity of holding the British Empire to the mere terms of an international treaty signed by the British Empire, the ghastly Euro-wogs now threaten the innocent one per cent with yet another unprovoked assault on their safe havens. We are all aware, because the noted anti-racist Boris Johnson has told us so, that our poor persecuted owners are comparable to Jews under the Nazis; and in a hate-filled speech of the kind that would provoke instant condemnation from every British philosemite worthy of the name, a minion of the Brusso-Strasbourg junta implied that starving squillionaires and the humble little companies that support them should be paying yet more tithes to the Nazi-Soviet bureaucracy. By a wholly uninteresting coincidence, the ghastly Euro-wogs had been plotting to tighten the stranglehold of their tax régime for some time before the great British public voted to open Global Britain for business and teach Johnny Foreigner what was what. Doubtless the glory of our great escape will light the nights and keep the heating affordable as patriots and expendables winter on the sunlit uplands.

Divine Penetration

Over the space of seventy years, the Catholic Church in one single country permitted, enabled, tolerated and connived at the sexual abuse of a minimum of three hundred and thirty thousand children; which means that the only institution more rapey than the eunuchs of the Virgin Mary is the hard-working family and its trusties. Fortunately for the spiritual health of those concerned, the Church of Rome has been charitable enough to interpret its little indiscretions as an opportunity for the victims to forgive their brothers, and thereby allow the Church of Rome to go on about its business for another seventy times seven years. After all, it was the god of Jesus, the god of Jacob, the god of Abraham, the god of Moses; the god without Whom there can be no law and no morality, who sat back smiling on His throne and allowed it all to happen.

Borderline Hard

Some former allies of Tumbledown Tessie have given the National Johnson three weeks to solve the Irish Question. Northern Ireland is part of the United Kingdom, and the Democratic Unionist Party doesn't see why Ulster should not have its share of shortages, staffing crises and kinks in the supply chain. In fact, the master race has already done much to whip the beastly Euro-wogs into shape, with the simplest trade negotiator in history renewing his threats to thimply thqueam and thqueam and thqueam until the EU repudiates the treaty negotiated and signed by Lord Frost. In keeping with his own party's long history of pragmatic realism and powers of cool-headed judgement, the DUP's leader emerged from a meeting "greatly encouraged" by whatever blatherings and burblings the National Johnson may have eructated in order to get him out of the room.

Bad Theology

Text for today: Mark 9 xxxiii-xxxvii

When the twelve apostles quarrel over who among them is greatest, Jesus tells them that the master of all must be the servant of all. Procuring a child, He places it among them and states that whoever receives one such child in His name receives Him, and that whoever received Him receives the Father.

While engaged on a ministry which gladly proclaims that the great majority of men, women and children should expect nothing from their Father except eternal fire and wailing and gnashing of teeth, Jesus calmly informs His henchmen that the greatest tyrant is also the humblest servant. In the ancient world, it was usual for rulers to be shamelessly boastful about their achievements and power. In speaking for eternity and addressing those beyond His own lifetime, Jesus anticipated a point in history when torture, genocide and others of His Father's favourite pastimes would be carried out by people posturing as dutiful and unassuming public servants.

The use of the child as a parable of God's relationship to humanity raises some intriguing psychological points. If the Father of all humanity is also the child of all humanity, that would of course go far in explaining God's chronic unreason, incompetence, moral imbecility, and addiction to repetitious cruelty. The inbred and incestuous nature of His origins might also account for the Father's obvious disgust and loathing for His creation and His continual simple-minded urge to purify through destruction. Clearly these were insights from which the Saviour, with characteristic moral courage, ultimately shrank; but which, being consubstantial with the Deity, He could hardly hope to avoid.

Comprehensively Articulated

It appears that the insidious disease of unpatriotism has infected even the highest reaches of government, where the best army in the world (the British Army, for those who hadn't noticed) is not considered sufficiently rah-rah to do a bit of driving without help from a bunch of migrants. Her Majesty's Government preceded its screeching, jack-knifing U-turn on beastly Euro-wog drivers by dashing off a written squeal for help and sending it to a million British residents, apparently more or less at random. Recipients included ambulance drivers whom a spokesbeing claimed the Government does not wish to re-deploy, and some thousands of beastly Euro-wogs who are not qualified to drive heavy-goods vehicles. All in all, things seem much as one would expect in a country where everything's fine and there is no need to panic; to say nothing of the winning country in the simplest trade deal in history.

Trade Off

Treasonous, materialistic and backsliding elements in the British business community have formed another fifth column for the undermining of the Union. Disregarding all sovereign abstract nouns in favour of mere profit, these rogue elements of the hitherto sainted private sector have gone so far as to warn Lord Frost, the intellectual firebucket in charge of putting the beastly Euro-wogs in their place, that suspending the Northern Ireland protocol would be rather a bad idea. Noises are being made about announcing it at the annual Conservative Party rah-and-blah, in the hope of a party management coup on the scale of Tumbledown Tessie's article-triggering trumpery some years ago; nevertheless, Frost has apparently been keen to stress that Britain is still very much in the market for an international treaty, provided that it doesn't have too many syllables and the master race can disregard the bits it doesn't really mean.