Bad Etymology

Elect, n. an élite predestined since the beginning of time for salvation by divine grace, hence election, n. the process whereby the democratic god of public opinion is graciously permitted to approve the eternally ordained policies of its invisible manipulators.

Minister, n. from Latin minor designating a person of lesser standing; hence a servant of a higher power; hence Prime Minister, n. the first in rank among those small conveniences which service the whims of the nation's owners.

Dying Younger Helps the Economy

Life expectancy in the sunlit uplands is falling at a sufficiently precipitous rate that His Majesty's Government feels it can afford to postpone robbing the elderly of another few years' income, at least for a while. A decade and a half of efficiency measures means that the estimated cost of the state pension is falling, so the next mugging has been put off until after the general election. Among the beastly Euro-wogs there have been riots over a planned increase in the pension age from four to two years below the mainland level; but any suggestion that this unruliness may have affected the Government's decision fails to do justice either to the occult potency of the migrant hordes or to the moderational sensibilities of His Majesty's Loyal Opposition.

Holy Trinity

As one would expect during Lent, a season supposedly devoted to Christian self-denial, Christians in the cathedral city of Wakefield are asserting themselves over the Sermon on the Mount. In accordance with tradition, the beatitude at Matthew 5 xi-xii has been overruled in the face of a slightly lesser inconvenience than those endured by the Christ at the hands of His fun-loving Father. The local authority plans to install a six-foot bronze "Amazonian Caiman god" clad in boots, T-shirt, Y-fronts and croutons, within sight of the cathedral; and the salt of the Wakefield earth seem to be bearing their trial with the standard degree of exceeding gladness. More than sixty objections have been registered on the council planning website, complaining of offence, disrespect and mockery; one learned person even pronounced the statue a sun god, thereby attaining new rigours of Christian modesty by overruling the sculptor as well as the Saviour. In fact the statue's location will be less close to the cathedral than to a nearby house of Mammon, whose proximity to the cathedral appears to be a matter for quiet contemplation.

Corporate Butts

In the spirit of fighting the climate catastrophe by telling the poor to eat less meat, the water watchdog has bounded up to Britain's moisture provision profiteers and sunk its affectionate gums into their well-fleshed silk-besuited legs. Should companies condescend to obey the accompanying whines and whimpers, decades of economically managed infrastructure may one day be partially compensated for by rewarding comsumers who have water-barrels on their property. The regulator has also submitted that the companies might care to introduce a flexible system of charging, meanwhile encouraging us all, the regulator apprently included, in the practice of wisdom and prudence.

Bene Qui Sedulo

In a veritable orgasm of moral Britishness, the parent company of the Rothermere Daily Stürmer has invoked the Human Rights Act to keep its hirelings' names out of the Press. The amusingly-named Associated Newspapers is subject to a vexatious lawsuit by a renegade, miscegenatory Royal and a multiracial cabal of metropolitan élitists, over activities which the company defends on the grounds that they all happened a long time ago (viz. the year of grace 2018 and before), and are evidenced only in material provided to a previous inquiry of which the Rothermere Daily Stürmer disapproved. However, in a blatant snub to British values the enemy of the people in charge of the pre-trial hearing blocked publication of the names "in the interests of fairness and the administration of justice."

Sweet Vindication

That rigorous regulatory régime of consumer protection which has obtained upon the mainland since independence from the Strasbrussels dictatorship has received an inadvertent tribute from the ghastly Euro-wogs. An investigation by the European Commission found that nearly half of honey products were adulterated with cheaper ingredients, including a world-beating one hundred per cent of the samples from Global Britain. Although the original impurity can conveniently be blamed upon the Heathen Chinee, the commissars' verdict must indubitably have been influenced by jealousy at British entrepreneurial rampancy; and, as one would expect during a cost-of-living crisis, the great British public has been advised to do its part against the insidious infiltration by exercising its ever-increasing freedom of choice towards more expensive products.

Bad Etymology

Church, n. a building dedicated to the ostentatious assertion of a special relationship; colloquial abbreviation of church hall, from Middle High British churchill, an exalted figure of dubious historicity, the fervent and unconditional worship of which was once considered a necessary qualification of Britishness.

Opinion, n. a subjective belief morally outweighing the facts; possibly derived with malicious irony from Old French pignon, ultimately from Latin penna, feather; or alternatively from pinion v.t., to shackle or bind, originally by removing the feathers of a bird's wing, hence to trap or handicap an opponent by cutting away their means of manoeuvre. See also flight of fancy.

The Thin End of the Hedge

In a superb access of Britishness, His Majesty's Government trumpeted an environmental improvement plan more ambitious than the recommendations of the Climate Change Committee, only to admit two months later that many of its thousands of miles of proposed hedgerows are in fact already in existence. The Minister for Turds and Turnips has announced that targets initially touted as new hedgerows are in fact targets for the eventual total; which means that the CCC's recommendations are to be exceeded only in the Johnsonian sense of the term. Evidently the standards of proof-reading in the exalted halls of Westminster have declined to levels below those attained on a daily basis by, among others, your humble correspondent. It would certainly be too much to infer that, even with targets which His Majesty's Government patently doesn't care about and has no intention of fulfilling, the standard dodge of presenting previously allocated funds as new investment has penetrated the secretarial subconscious and is now being applied by default.

Blackmail is an Ugly Word

We progress, do we not? Only yesterday the ermine-clad élite in the House of Donors discovered, after a mere several decades of rampant market forces, that firms which are set up for private profit tend to focus their efforts on private profit; and today the energy watchdog has resolved to pursue those profiteers who manipulate the market for their own nefarious ends. So rigorous are the present rules that companies are permitted to point out, as times of peak demand approach, that it would certainly be a shame if certain power plants just happened to get turned off, and then offer to keep them running in return for a small consideration. Now that spring is on the way and there is no risk of lowering winter fuel bills more than absolutely necessary, the watchdog has whined a little about prohibiting the cartel from "manipulating the balancing mechanism in this way for excessive financial gain." Precisely how much pressure the toothless gums will eventually exert remains as yet unclear.

Dire Comment

Linguistic chauvinists among the beastly French are taking legal action over the signage at what is left of Notre Dame Cathedral, on the grounds that the text is not foreign enough. In fact, the Défense de la langue française is opposed to English on principle, and is hoping that the presence of an extra language will postpone the inevitable replacement of French by the best tongue in the world. Aside from this quixotic rearguard, the association has also proved a stalwart opponent of Franglais, working to prevent the national postal service from calling its banking service Ma French Bank. The signs at Notre Dame are printed only in French and English, in contravention of a rule which specifies that at least two non-French languages must be used: a requirement which would certainly discombobulate that voluble majority of the master race which can barely cope with its own.

Dubious Deterrent

Having recently assisted Mr Churchill in defeating the proto-Strasbrussels menace of National Socialism, Britain's greatest ally has intervened with characteristic helpfulness in the war on refugees. The US State Department's annual report on human rights states that conditions in Rwanda's detention centres include harsh and life-threatening conditions, arbitrary detention, serious restrictions on free expression and no proper collective bargaining system. Even allowing for Washington's notorious lefty lawyerdom, we can surely detect a subtle hint here as to why His Majesty's Government finds the country such a convenient wog warehouse. Indeed, in its no-nonsense attitude to homeless persons, and in the bracing lack of health-and-safety wokeness in the transit centres operated by the sniggeringly-named National Rehabilitation Service, Rwanda demonstrates a commendable ambition to emulate conditions on the mainland. It is to be hoped that over-zealous patriots do not allow the perfect to be the enemy of the suitable, and try to sabotage the transportation scheme on the grounds that swarming hordes should not monopolise the sort of lifestyle which the great British public has consistently voted for itself.

Semmelweis Was Un-American

Natives of the Christian state of Idaho are doubtless thanking that fine upstanding American, the LORD God, along with His friends on the supreme court, now that wives and offspring can expect to be spared the burden of non-individualistic medicine. Physicians, paediatricians and other defiers of the divine Will are leaving the state's hospitals, and in many cases the state itself, since the legislature hurried to emulate the Christian state of Texas in prosecuting doctors who provide the fleshly incubators with an ungodly excess of medical care. At least one hospital has already closed its obstetrics department; others will doubtless follow suit, and the baby delivery business can be restored to the divine discretion, assisted by pious amateurs and their thoughts, prayers and coathangers.

Fagging for Cancer

In yet another incidence of the very real perils of allowing foreign to be spoken in British educational establishments, it has emerged that a former ambassador to Yemen was involved in killing Middle Easterners and breaching international law by slightly less direct means than those generally favoured by the British Government. In a series of unfortunate accidents, the envoy unintentionally participated in the opening ceremony of a Jordanian cigarette factory which was one-third owned by British American Tobacco, and also gave purely involuntary rah-rah to the enterprise on the company's website and during an apparently unconscious appearance on Yemen TV. Doubtless owing to an equally innocent series of oversights, the UK is a signatory to some unelected red tape which places arbitrary limits on the natural chumminess between Government officials and cancer salesmen. Nevertheless, as the factory opening was not categorised as a formal meeting no records were kept, and the whole honest mistake might have passed without notice but for the gratuitous presence of an Arabic-speaker at the University of Bath.

Youthful Indiscretion

Since Samuel Taylor Coleridge is considered to have been one of Britain's greatets poets, it is only natural that patriots should wish his more embarrassing effusions to be kept inside the country. Hence the Department for Cultchah, Murdoch and Lineker has been advised that a manuscript of an early poem should not be exported except at the right price. The piece is written in foreign and woke in content, so the Government would undoubtedly prefer it to remain where it can be safely put away and forgotten, rather than boorishly displayed by lesser breeds whose culture is still primitive enough to include literature, museums, and prejudice against the Atlantic slave trade.

Proper Parallels Only

The colonial administrator in England's oldest and least valued possession has declared himself struck by the contemporary resonances in a 1406 letter from the the last Welsh Prince of Wales to a king named Charles the Mad. Although the letter begs help from a proto-Strasbrussels tyrant in overthrowing the civilising influence of the Empire, Mark Drakeford coyly refused to detect any echoes of Global Britain's present internal rumblings. As a believer in a "strong Wales within the union" (viz. continued national subordination mitigated by appropriate privileges for the Right People), he instead saw parallels to the present in Owain Glyndŵr's implied wish for the right to persecute religious dissenters independently of the authority of Canterbury. Whether this reading will prove patriotic enough to spare Drakeford the censure of Team Starmer remains as yet unclear.

Start Me Up, Stand Me Down

After the embarrassing flop of its first attempt at penetrating those dark and intimate parts of the cosmos which are not yet marketised for Global Britain, Virgin Orbit has naturally sought to re-inflate its rampant credentials as an upstanding national representative. So confident is the company of its priapic potency that it has laid off its staff, though with the standard expectation that the human resources will come scurrying back in a week's time to place themselves once more at the company's disposal. Investors responded by lowering the company's share price by nearly a fifth, which adds a charming touch of economic Britishness to the already well-established technical, managerial and nomenclaturial manifestations.

An Eloquent Gesture

Although Chancellor Chunt's ante-pre-electoral rah and blah made no direct mention of striking workers (some hundreds of thousand of whom have timed their latest action for Jerry's big day), he nonetheless managed to express his sympathies with characteristic refinement. Four billion (four thousand million, in real money) is to be spent on increasing tax benefits for those who have been thrifty enough to amass pension pots worth a million or more. Ostensibly, the measure is intended to protect the public against a looming shortage of the class of doctor who, without disturing Fishy Rishi's negotiations to get his private swimming pool properly heated, lances the prime-ministerial haemorrhoids at a thousand pounds a pop; or the quality of dentist who keeps Chunt's gnashers sufficiently smooth and dull that they cause no discomfort during his frequent oral contact with certain sagging Murdoch assets. It remains to be seen whether the uncharitable public sector will take the sharp end of the policy in quite so amiable a spirit.

Those With Nothing to Hide

So brilliant is the motivational record of the Department for Workfare and Poverty, and so effective its régime of scrounger-smashing, that it has suppressed its marking of its own homework from sheer delicacy of feeling. An internal study commissioned four years ago by the race-baiting Amber Rudd was immediately hidden under a bushel of turnips; Thérèse Coffey also scrapped the idea of an independent review of the effectiveness of fining people without any money, having decided that the Government had better things to worry about than whether making poor people poorer might have some effect on their health. Thanks to its leader's deep personal understanding of hardship, the Government is now making noises about efficientising the Idleness Police and taking advantage of its happy relationship with electronical computators to automate some of the shirker-shafting; which has caused the information commissioner to order the ministry research published. According to a spokesbeing, the DWP is considering its next steps, which will presumably involve some rigorously unsuppressed research into how far the information commissioner might himself be a scrounger.

Burning Injustices

Tumbledown Tessie, whose idea of draining the swamp of the British establishment was to appoint Boris Johnson to what was then one of the great offices of state, is to publish a screed titled The Abuse of Power. As one would expect, it appears that the lies, deceptions and stupidities surrounding Brexit (with Tumbledown Tessie's own triggering of the process, essentially as an act of party management, being prominent among the stupidities) will receive little or no attention. Instead, the authoress or her ghost writer will expose such institutional scandals as Hillsborough, Grenfell, the Daniel Morgan case and the fiend Putin's germ warfare in Salisbury, and will argue that "the powerful repeatedly chose to use their power not in the interests of the powerless but to serve themselves or to protect the organisation to which they belonged." It remains as yet unclear how many chapters will be devoted to the hijacking of the hostile environment by racists with insufficient devotion to the interests of its originator.

Moral Leadership

Though an uncouth few have dispensed with the polite fiction that terms like invasion, swarms, hordes and citizens of nowhere would somehow be out of place in 1930s Germany, there remains a touchingly widespread acceptance of the idea that the Government's anathematisation of refugees is even vaguely concerned with hindering people-traffickers, as opposed to appeasing the back-bench baboons. Doubtless many patriotic souls also still believe that the primary aim of Brexit was democratisation, that the primary aim of colonialism was civilisation, and that the primary aim of the Atlantic slave trade was abolitionism. In the same pragmatic spirit, religious leaders and the Archbishop of York have criticised the Government's latest, highly purposeful round of party management as cruel, inept, and contrary to the compassionate British tradition of couching our atrocities in slightly softer rhetoric than that of Goebbels.

Another Foreign Plant

As one would expect of an administration so deeply concerned with the removal of foreign invaders, the Government is prepared to wait a quarter of a millennium for the removal of a mortal threat to the woodlands of the master race. Introduced from Asia and widely planted by the Victorians, rather like wars in Afghanistan, rhododendron is an aggressive competitor for the few remaining hectares of world-beating temperate rainforest; and the Government has shown approximately the usual degree of interest in protecting the old and vulnerable against rapacious Victorian values. There is no obligation on landowners to clear rhododendron, and the Government has no plans to prevent the immigrant flaunting itself in garden centres and thereby insinuating itself into British homes. Althogh the Department for Extirpating Forests, Rivers and All does offer moral support to non-native species Local Action Groups, these are presumably too busy to bother taking back control of mere shrubs, being preoccupied at present with rounding up potential solutions for the labour shortage.

Within Reason

Even as one member of the energy cartel squeals with horror and sacks people at the prospect of paying some taxes, in accordance with the serene balance of the markets another deserving cause has just handed its chief executive a double-strength payout. Bernard Looney, head of environmental sanity at British Petroleum, received £3.8 million in salary and bonus and a share award of six million, besides one or two other benefits in case of hardship. BP has admitted to annual profits of twenty-three thousand million thanks to the benevolence of Vladimir Putin and the heating and/or eating expenses of some expendables on the mainland: a performance to which the Looney payout was explicitly linked by the chair of the company's pay committee. In mitigation, the bonus was slightly reduced because of an increase in "recordable injuries" among the workforce, and the termination of four human resources before their work potential had been fully actualised.

Their Star Reporter

To those same heavens Meg has gone
She read for Sun and Screws,
And wrote the nearest either one
Has ever got to news.

Charlie Tanner

The Wrong Back Yard

Plans to put a new wog warehousing centre in a Conservative constituency have elicited predictable squeals from the relevant honourable member, who in this case also happens to be Fishy Rishi's Misnomer for Foreigners, Beads and Trinkets. James Cleverly, whose appointment to a constituency called Braintree must count as one of Stupid Party Central's less tasteful jokes, proclaimed his deep concern about the remoteness of the site and the limited transport infrastructure, while affirming his continuing fealty to the Government's wog disposal plans. It is certainly inexcusable that the Ministry for Wog Control should bestow upon the invaders a standard of accommodation that is increasingly foisted off on the master race; especially given the superior quality of transport infrastructre at the bustling international hub that is Kigali.

Forces Unmarketed

Enthusiasts of British peacekeeping from Afghanistan through Yemen to Libya will be righteously indignant that the greatest arms dealers in the world may be denied the moral profits of annihilating the fiend Putin. The Nazi-Soviet Strasbrussels cabal is preparing a substantial order of ammunition for the defence of democracy, the triumph of freedom and the expansion of NATO; but the beneficiaries are likely to be arms dealers in France, Germany, Italy and, of all places, Norway. A discussion document, apparently prepared by haphazard off-WhatsApp methods by unelected bureaucrats, even suggests that the beastly Euro-wogs might consider developing their own arms industry, rather than importing from the mainland which has done so much to advance the cause of effective defence. It remains as yet unclear whether the resulting British bullet mountain can be satisfactorily absorbed by either the Metropolitan Police or our next world-beating trade deal with Micronesia.

Unholy Trinity

No less than three of the British patriot's most hated enemies have conjoined in legalistic vexatiousness, in the form of a domestic abuse survivor who is victimising the Ministry of Justice over its ruling in her child custody case. She was trying to enforce an agreed arrangement which her ex-partner had breached by limiting her access to their child; the Ministry ruled that since the child wasn't living with her but was under the protection of her alcohol-dependent, abusive ex-partner, the child was not her dependent. Therefore the circumstance which caused her need for legal aid was the reason that she did not qualify for legal aid; which seems about as tidy as one could hope for. Nevertheless, the president of the Law Society was unworldly enough to state that it "seems unlikely that Parliament could have intended such an outcome," even in the case of a legel aid claimant who also happens to be a healthcare trainee and a single mother.

National Sports

Patriotic believers in our eternal British values will be startled to learn that, despite a certain influx of Roman culture during the United Kingdom's partnership with the Roman Empire, British subjects may have indulged in blood sports other than such traditional civilised pursuits as fox-hunting, badger-gassing and migrant-bombing. A vase found a hundred and seventy years ago in a second-century grave at Colchester, which the Romans were ignorant enough to call Camulodunum, has been subjected to some new-fangled tests; and it transpires that an inscription featuring the names of two gladiators is part of the original design and not, as previously thought, a later alteration. Thus it seems safe to assume that gladiatorial bouts took place in the British Isles despite the inherent decency of the inhabitants, and that certain spectators commissioned expensive mementoes of these occasions notwithstanding the nation's world-beating hypocrisy.

Fid Def

As one would expect for a serious matter of state in a world-beating global power, to say nothing of a genuine acknowledgement of diversity in a modern and inclusive nation, the sacred grease which is scheduled to be deposited upon the royal bonce along with the Imperial Glitterhat has been mumbled over by a couple of Christians. This vital recognition of a minority faith was greeted with unctuous ardour by the Christian archbishop whose church's obsessive concern with the sex lives of the Othered is scheduled to be temporarily interrupted by the aforementioned bonce-bejewelment in a Christian abbey. As befits a ceremony of Britishness, the Archbishop of Canterbury had much to say about distinguished ancestry and immaterial blessings, to the salutary exclusion of his social and moral inferiors and other less fragrant matters.

Though Justice Be Thy Plea

Among the mission-led pledges of an incoming Team Starmer government will surely be to cleanse the realm of every trace of antisemitism. Besides giving the Roald Dahl treatment to The Merchant of Venice, presumably by re-casting Shylock as a social democrat, the new administration of virtue will require the denunciation, anathematisation and expulsion of all who perpetuate offensive stereotypes of Jews. This of course will include those whose legalistic, vindictive and vexatious court cases appear designed to serve no ends besides the suffering of the goyim. A pro-Israeli organisation is dragging NGOs through the courts, apparently for lack of zeal in cleansing Palestine of Palestinians; and while any action that would inconvenience the Righteous State is almost certainly too much to expect, there seems little reason why a ban should not be placed upon donations to Christian Aid, the Carter Center and Oxfam.

Open Secret

Since at least the nineteen-eighties, when the education brief was beslimed by the oozing batrachian Kenneth Baker, the extent of the Government's reverence for teachers has been on fairly plain display. It is more or less on a par with the Government's reverence for NHS staff, transport workers and unpaid carers; which makes it all the stranger that people are acting all surprised over messages between Gavin "Stupid Boy" Williamson, who was Minister for Profitable Pedagogy at the time, and the ever-appealing Matt Hancock, in which the usual respects are paid with the accustomed degree of professionalism. The relevant spokesbeing for the Deputy Conservatives expressed relief that Williamson had once again shown himself slightly worse than anything appointed during the coalition; while the Minister for Mere Schools pointed out that Williamson is married to a primary school teacher, so there is no excuse for the rest of the profession refusing to put up with him. Williamson himself said that his crudities were not directed against teachers, but against some unions which work to defend the interests of teachers and which may happen to have a few teachers littering their membership.

Once More, Things Have Finally Gone Too Far

Crusaders for common sense will doubtless be girding on their armour and tonguing up their megaphones at the news that a river has been granted rights. Lewes district council passed a motion which not only infringes the rights of moisture provision profiteers to dump raw sewage wherever they feel like it, but opens up the ghastly possibility that Britain's liberation from the Strasbrussels yoke may be imperilled by vexatious legal actions on behalf of bodies of water. Indeed, when one considers that British water has unrestrained access to virtually every bathroom in the country, including those used by women and children, it should be clear to all but the most ardent defenders of wokeness that somebody ought to do something.