Go Forth and Multiply

Although the Church of England both does and does not accept homosexuality, the unmarried at least may now consider themselves entitled to a less equivocal welcome; though naturally for all the wrong reasons. After only two years of extensive research, a commission has proclaimed its strong belief that single people must be valued, on the grounds that Jesus Himself was single. In fact, as a rural peasant and a violently reactionary Jew, the Saviour had almost certainly been married at least once by the time He started preaching His cult at the age of thirty, in what for His time and place counted as early middle age. His Church's dirty-minded predilection for celibacy, and the divinely-ordained abuses which follow from it, date at the earliest from the fourth century after His death. Assuming that mentions of His preference for marriage over burning have not been expunged by Christian witch-hunters (at least one non-canonical gospel states that the male disciples were jealous over His favouritism towards Mary Magdalene), His marital status may simply have been considered too obvious to mention; conversely, the Pharisees, Sadducees and other Jewish enemies of Jesus would certainly not have refrained from comment at the scandal of an unmarried rabbi. Indeed, unless the Immaculate Conception invalidated all her qualifications as a Jewish mother, the Virgin Mary's silence on the subject would be implausible to say the least.

British Border Battlebot

The happy relationship between artificial intelligence and the natural genius of His Majesty's Government is set to attain yet greater heights with a new technological drive to deter the swarming migrant hordes. Since the cunning invaders have proven immune to fantasy spreadsheets and racist algorithms, the Ministry for Wog Control has arranged a three-day nerdfest to search for innvative new solutions that are both effective in shunting refugees to Rwanda and economical as regards the consumption of precious ministerial brain-power. Participants will be required to sign a non-disclosure agreement, so nobody need fear that the resulting innovations might be utilised for nefarious purposes by NHS workers trying to get relatives out of Sudan.

Bad Etymology

Epic, n. abbreviation of electronic picture, any TV or cinema spectacular consisting largely of computer-generated imagery and featuring emoji levels of characterisation.

History, n. from hysteria, ultimately derived from Greek hustéra, womb; hence a narrative about the birth of a nation which is characterised by noisy emotional extremes.

Moron of Khartoum

The deteriorating situation in Sudan seems to have left Britain's mighty private sector at a bit of a loss. Though the Conservatives were willing enough to throw public money at their chums during the pandemic, a curious lack of Dunkirk spirit has prevented their enlisting private aircraft, let alone small yachts, in the belated evacuation of non-expendables. No doubt there is blame on more than one side, as some potential evacuees are trying to sneak their elderly parents onto the mainland, thereby exacerbating beyond tolerance the Conservative Party's well-known concern over care home conditions and the National Health Service. Announcing that eight hundred and ninety-seven people had so far been evacuated, without noticeably furthering the nation's collapse beyond the state achieved by His Majesty's Government, the Minister for Wogs and Misnomer pointed out for the benefit of anyone who didn't know it that not even Global Britain can take all the refugees in the world, especially as nobody is asking it to. Speaking around his other foot, Cleverly also proclaimed that anyone aspiring to lead Sudan ought to start by demonstrating a willingness to protect the kind of people the master race aspires to deport to Rwanda.

Une Certaine Révolte

By contrast with the liberated mainland, where the pre-gammon generations can aspire to work until they drop and where government theft of state pensions has continued with only migrants to blame, plans to raise the pension age by a paltry two years continue to cause ructions among the beastly French. The electricity workers' union has announced a hundred days of action and anger, including possible disruption to the Cannes film festival; so patriotic Britons will once more be basking in that innate cultural superiority which has achieved the protective double-lock of starving workers and film industry alike.

Britannia Unsullied

The national decency and fair play have once more attained their wonted depths with the deportation of several dozen sherpas and sepoys before they had a chance to undermine our values and lifestyle. Nepali and Indian soldiers, who had protected British embassy staff in Kabul while the glorious liberators incontinently made themselves scarce, managed somehow to sneak aboard an RAF flight which might otherwise have been doing something useful like evacuating another dogs' home. On reaching the mainland, more than a hundred of the invaders were detected with six-month visas, doubtless issued by the metropolitan élites infesting Britain's border control forces, and were summarily returned whence they had come. Even the Downing Street privilege of ignoring Covid restrictions was extended towards the swarming hordes, so eager was Her Majesty's Government to restore the national balance.

Fast Track

Although the good Lord gave us our filthy worldly appetites the better to renounce His sinful creation and draw closer to Him, it seems that even the sacred practice of askesis can be carried too far for the secular arm. A cult leader in Kenya has been arrested and twenty-one of his late dupes exhumed after he apparently ordered them to starve themselves closer to Jesus. Among those who suffered to come unto Him in this instance were at least three children, and police are expecting to uncover further congregants as the investigation proceeds. In their capacity as representatives of the eternal moral law, the Saviour and His Father have thus far taken their usual non-interventionist approach.

Dirty Business

Being affiliated neither to the Church of Rome nor to the Metropolitan Police, it appears that the Confabulation of Business Interests may be driven to a more extensive re-branding exercise than either of its fellow religious organisations. Allegations of rape, harassment and sexual misconduct have prompted several dozen mambers of the club to disassociate themselves: a fiscal and therefore a moral misfortune which has yet to befall either Vatican Incorporated or the choirboys in the church of law and order. The CBI has stated that steps are being taken, but it remains as yet unclear whether these will comprise a change of logo or some token boardroom churn; and since the organisation is founded upon a royal charter, it seems unlikely that the situation is serious enough to require both at once.

Bad Etymology

Corrupt, adj. from Latin cor, heart and ruptus, broken, hence broken-hearted, consumed with patriotic grief at the paucity of reward for holding high public office.

Puce, n. a reddish colour, from French pucelle, a blushing or (in the case of Joan of Arc) a burning maiden.

We Counted a Few Out

The fortieth anniversary of the sainted Thatcher's most successful party election broadcast has been celebrated with an installation made up of life-size silhouette figures at Fort Nelson in Portsmouth, alongside a display of guns and other means of patriotic noise. The public entertainments manager called it "a striking reminder of how many lives were lost in the Falklands conflict;" by which of course she meant the lives of two hundred and fifty-eight real people, as opposed to the six hundred and forty-nine who had the misfortune to expire as lesser breeds. In similarly sober and reflective spirit, the perpetrator of the installation proclaimed it a monument to "why we have our freedom" and a tribute to "those who have fallen so we can live the lives we have today." An accompanying exhibition features contemporary news images and footage from the BBC, just in case the connection between our present sunlit uplands and Britain's war with its former friends and trading partners in a fascist military dictatorship might not be entirely clear.

Seditious Literature

Britain's literary heritage, particularly that famous libertarian tradition which would crop a publisher's ears for printing anything insufficiently patriotic, has been celebrated in appropriate fashion for Hitler's hundred and thirty-fourth birthday with the arrest of a beastly Frenchman. The invader is foreign rights manager (a suspicious title in itself) for a publishing house that itself puts out books in foreign; so he was duly pounced on by the plod and interrogated for several hours about his political opinions, although it seems he is Caucasian enough to have been spared the ultimate sanction so far. Whether by direct collaboration with the Élysée Un-French Activities Committee or in a characteristically subtle punt at appeasing the hard right on its own account, the best police force in the world also seized the traitor's phone and computer, ordered him to return for a further dose of British justice next month, and demanded that he name names of anti-Macron elements from his employers' catalogue of authors. The founder of one British publishing house commented that as a result "international publishers and authors - many of whom use their positions in the media spotlight to highlight societal issues - will think twice about visiting the UK," which of course is all to the good.

Something Dirty in the Loft

Since the jabbering homunculus Michael Gove has proclaimed that the nanny state should prevent the little people from smoking, his taxpayer-funded smoking bunker will come as no surprise. Previously, as part of his ritual humiliation under the second Bullingdon Club régime, Gove was consigned to a broom cupboard at the rear end of the Cabinet Office, where he "worked" as Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster: a role which lists "Propriety and Ethics" among its responsibilities, and is therefore held in such casual contempt as to be occupied at present by Oliver Dowden, CBE. However, shortly before Gove was shunted to the Secretaryship of State for Regional Tokenism he was rather rudely treated by some people who had had enough of experts; which self-evidently entitled him to his own private homunculus-hutch. It remains as yet unclear whether emphysema and lung cancer will so far demean themselves as to lend their presence to a respiratory system so deeply implicated in his half-century of jabbering.

Dieu Et Ma Tarte

God save our gracious dish!
Long live our noble dish!
God save the dish!
Food for the peasants who'll
Taste of the pleasant rule
Crowning their grits and gruel:
Rah for the quiche!

In robes voluminous
And jewels luminous,
Anglico-numinous
Faiths may he guard!
God's royal recipe
For ruling family:
Vegetable tartery
And lots of lard.

Nigella Britton

But Is It Global Enough?

Thanks to the fiendish machinations of the beastly Euro-wogs, Britain's bolshie boffins may yet get their wish as regards re-joining the foreign-made Horizon programme. The enemy claims that the Britain will not have to pay for the two years when it was not a member, thereby defusing the mainland's major pretext for continuing to stay out and sulk. Major concerns doubtless remain over the programme's tendency to favour science over Britishness, and the master race has been stalling for the past three weeks owing to the respect accorded the Foreign Secretary's rapidity of comprehension.

Bad Etymology

Advert, n. from mediaeval Latin ad, towards, and Norman French vert, green: hence something aimed at the naïve and trusting, and later an instance of self-proclaimed environmental virtue among thieves.

Number, n. from numb and -er, that which dulls or makes apathetic; possibly an allusion to the emotional consequences of mathematics and/or the moral and ethical consequences of crowding, popular opinion, majority rule, etc.

Railway Cutting; or, Legless in Folkestone

Our great nation's control of its own borders is set to attain new heights of Britishness with the amputation of the London to Folkestone leg of the Orient Express. Since independence from the beastly Euro-wogs, the company that runs the route has found that the border checks between the Strasbrussels empire and the mainland are becoming nearly as convenient as various other aspects of life on the sunlit uplands; while the process of treating those who can afford a £3500-minimum train ticket as though they were merely immigrants does agonising violence to any number of moral imperatives. In this case, of course, the purely practical benefits of closure are accompanied by cultural ones: the Orient Express is notoriously the inspiration for a treasonous work of popular fiction in which a native of the Nazi-Soviet bloc's toxic epicentre enables the murderers of an American entrepreneur to escape hanging, in defiance of British justice, economic prudence and the Special Relationship.

Gutter Politics

Fittingly enough for the ever more fragrant coprocracy that is the British Conservative and Unionist Party, in 2022 over twenty years' worth of cabinet ministers descended upon the constituencies of some of the Government's most solid lumps of raw sewage. Those who have the honour to be represented by the former Minister for Richard Desmond, Robert Jenrick, were splurged with 4438 hours of concentrated Conservative policy; while those who bask in the honourable membership of the wog-hunting Mark Harper were splattered in quantities suggesting a Home Secretary or a speech by the National Johnson. In keeping with the poetic spirit of the enterprise, the largest quantities of political substance were directed at those represented by the Minister for Workfare and Poverty, the Official Class Bully, and the Prime Minister, whose personal arrangements with local electricity suppliers will doubtless ensure that he suffers no undue inconvenience.

Rarer Avis

Were it not for the fortunate fact that His Majesty's Government takes its own announced targets slightly less seriously than it takes its treaty obligations to the wogs, Frogs and other lesser breeds, the continuing precipitate plummet in the country's bird population might be some small cause for concern. Mere experts claim that the main cause of the decline is habitat loss, which is unlikely to take precedence over the vital interests of golfers and sewage dumpers. The second Bullingdon Club administration passed an Environment Act requiring an end to the decline by 2030, and no doubt the Conservative Party and its frère et semblable on the opposition benches are very nearly as serious about the green crap as the National Johnson himself. If starving farmers and gassing badgers fails to solve the problem, it may soon be time to consider giving each deported invader a kitten to drown as they paddle their small boat to Rwanda.

Wheels of Justice

Five Conservative local councils are pursing an entirely non-vexatious legal case against the expansion of London's ultra-low emission zone; and the fact that three of their five grounds for complaint have been thrown out before reaching court will doubtless serve only to thicken their resolve. Of the remaining grounds, an enemy of the people has labelled one "doubtful but arguable" and a single aspect of the other "on the cusp," which is more than enough justification for any Conservative-run council throwing taxpayers' money against the green crap. The plaintiffs argue that drivers will be illegally inconvenienced, thanks in large part to the lack of public transport alternatives which has mysteriously persisted through the last decade and a half of Conservative rule. The ULEZ was brought in under the régime of the National Johnson, but the fiend Khan intends using it against the suburbs, thereby exacerbating those terroristic and paedophiliac suspicions with which patriotism inadvertently but inevitably colours his racial profile.

Bad Etymology

Bunk, n. a bed, probably derived from bunker, a bench; hence bunk or bunkum, n. rubbish or humbug, a comfortable belief in which the lazy mind can recline.

Operation, n. an instance of invasive surgery; from opera, a lengthy performance involving specialised instruments and occasional screaming.

A Very Expensive Hat

Modernity and relevance are once again the Windsor watchwords as the Ruritanian rah-rah surrounding the Coronation is emojied forth in the shape of the Imperial Glitterhat. Officially named after Edward the Confessor, whose blood-feud with England's other pre-eminent thug helped precipitate the Norman Conquest and who had the misfortune to expire six hundred years too early for the first fitting, the Glitterhat was originally procured for the restoration of Charles II; but its use fell out of fashion after the undignified removal of his younger brother almost three decades later. Monarchs from Queen Anne to George V used either small crowns of their own or the State Crown of George I, which was subsequently plundered of its jewels to furnish an Imperial Subglitterhat for impressing the serfs on non-coronatory occasions. As one of Britain's less parsimonious monarchs, George IV had a pleonastic Coronation Crown made with some borrowed jewellery, but his Government sensibly refused to buy it outright and it was dismantled two years after the ceremony; while Queen Victoria and her son, Edward VII, decided not to use the Glitterhat because its excessive weight ran counter to their work ethic. Nevertheless, even when not being plonked upon a regal bonce the Glitterhat was granted a prominent place amid the pomp, from which it doubtless looked about as solemn as two and a quarter kilograms of stolen goods and conspicuous consumption possibly could.

Those Bolshie Boffins Again

Among the cardinal disadvantages involved in forsaking a patriotic point of view for a merely rational one is, of course, a chronic intellectual blindness as to whether British science should include more science or more Britishness. Predictably, mere experts continue to agitate against the mainland alternative to unelected, Nazi-Soviet Strasbrussels science: an alternative which is both British enough to be named after an American space programme and scientific enough to keep an open mind on the prospects for the sunlit uplands. Just because independence from the beastly Euro-wogs is a disaster in every respect save the enrichment of the deserving, that is no legitimate basis for predicting failures in the future. Indeed, if mere facts are to be persistently shoehorned into the debate, one might as well expect some sort of vague awareness as to the failures that are already taking place.

True Britishness

Given that some decades have now elapsed since the Standard English term asylum seeker failed to incorporate the implicit prefix bogus, few other than journalists will be surprised that the Ministry for Wog Control feels no need to cite, or even collect, information that backs its own claims. Two years ago the then-incumbent minister proclaimed that seventy per cent of the swarming hordes were "single men who are effectively economic migrants;" and the assertion has been repeated within the last six months by her equally brilliant successor. In response to a Freedom of Information request, following a year of "thorough search," the Ministry has now casually admitted that it does not have the relevant evidence; in fact, the Ministry's evidence shows that at least sixty per cent of the invaders disarranging Britain's south coast sewage dumps are legally refugees. Despite this (or, in Oldspeak, because of this), His Majesty's Government has closed off most safe routes, and has persisted in favouring patriotic figures over those which display a vulgar conformity with the facts.

Without Liarbility

News Group Newspapers, the hilariously misnamed publisher of the Supreme Leader's scumbag rag, is seeking to emphasise its innocence of any wrongdoing by setting aside yet more millions to pay off claimants in phone-hacking cases. A dozen years after the unlamented demise of the hilariously misnamed News of the World, and in the face of no sanctions whatever save those which can be legally secured by the incredibly wealthy, the red-top revolutionary guard remains under siege, thanks to the refusal by an enemy of the people to impose a statute of limitations. A spokesbeing pointed out that the commercial practice of paying off litigants in order to avoid a fair trial is so common as to verge upon the vulgar, and admitted that this year's scumbag sector borrowing requirement will be higher owing to, as the delicate phrasing hath it, "a glut of individuals" coming forth to indulge their vindictiveness. In the event of excessive losses, and in keeping with the can-do spirit of entrepreneurial go-gettingness, the British dependency of the Supreme Leader's empire has been authorised to approach its American overlord and squeal for a subsidy.

Back Door Deal

Presumably because all its moral energies are required for the two-front war on trans rights and drag acts, the Christian state of Texas may soon condescend to fall into line with at least one among the more Satanic provisions of the dreaded US Constitution. As might be imagined in a land whose natives have been cited as living proof that the Indians screwed buffaloes, the sodomy law arrived quite a long time after the pagan hordes were exterminated, only to be ruled unconstitional by the Supreme Court a mere thirty years later. A gay black Dallas Democrat has now managed to get a repeal bill past the committee on criminal jurisprudence; the price of said passing to include an amendment preserving current legislation which proclaims that "homosexuality is not a lifestyle acceptable to the general public." Since homosexuality is of course not a lifestyle at all, it seems a small enough payment for putting to rest an unenforceable law which for the past twenty years has lain impotent on the clean white sheets of the Lone Star statute books.

Bad Etymology

General n. from gene, an orderly assembly of proteins, and rally, an artificially controlled mob; hence a senior military officer.

Genetic, adj. from gene and tic, an uncontrolled impulse of proteins; hence genesis, n. from gene and system, order out of proteins, generic, adj. from gene and -ric, tending towards what proteins find customary.

Female Trouble

Two Democratic politicians in Florida have risked their relations with a future British Labour government by joining a picket line against the legitimate and understandable activities of the far right. The incriminatingly-surnamed state senate minority leader and the chair of the Florida party involved themselves in a protest against Florida's proposed new promotion of the coathanger industry, and were among eleven people arrested for trespass when they refused to disperse after sunset and thereby became too scary for the police. Doubtless to the chagrin of the Trumpster and his hydrophobic head-tribble, who recently condescended to testify concerning some thirty-odd lesser issues, the arrestees' hands were large enough to merit bracelets.

Charlie's Angles

A former management consultant and namesake to the director of several films apparently undistinguished even by James Bond standards has graciously permitted thousands of public institutions across the UK to mark the latest plonking of the Imperial Glitterhat with a resounding fuck-you to any plebs who may be feeling hard done by. John Glen, chief secretary to the Treasury, was echoing the Cabinet Office flunkey Oliver Dowden, who combines responsibility for coronatory rah-rah with co-ordinatory duties as regards the wage demands of teachers, nurses, firepersons, civil servants and sundry other nuisances. As one would expect, the magic money tree has once more magically materialised for the purpose of providing free portraits of King Charles III, "the nation's ultimate public servant," whose first sacrifice upon accession was to dispense with a few dozen household expendables. Doubtless the great British public, which groaned at the decapitation of His Majesty's worthless first namesake and rejoiced at the restoration of a spendthrift second, will endure the load with its customary patience.

Chariots of Faux

An aristocratic heiress who used family connections in an unsuccessful squabble over an inheritance has been invoked as a feminist icon. Boudicca, the widow of a chieftain in first-century Roman Britain, was cheated out of her rights by the minions of the emperor Nero, and supposedly used some inflammatory libertarian rhetoric in enlisting the voters to her cause. Her tribe inflicted considerable damage on the occupier, and the fact that their leader was a woman seems to have horrified the Romans much as a later generation of free Englishmen was horrified by Jeanne d'Arc. No doubt the sack of Camulodunum was carried out with all British decency and female good sense, the extent of civilian casualties and the atrocities inflicted being self-evidently exaggerated by the lesser breeds for partisan effect. Even so, the image of a rabble-rousing leader who inconvenienced a great many people before being defeated by some better organised Europeans has unarguable resonance as a modern British icon.

Sustainable Wastage

Patriots will rejoice that conditions at Britain's wog warehousing centres are well on the way to becoming a self-solving problem. There are reports of suicides and suicide attempts among the swarming hordes, and this despite an apparently relaxed attitude at the Home Office towards the bureaucratic tedium of carrying out risk assessments. Since the Home Office has conveniently declared itself above the law in determining the reasonable duration of wog storage intervals, there seems every possibility that the British taxpayer may be spared yet more expenses in the future; although of course it is to be hoped that necessary levels of deterrence will be maintained by ensuring that whatever methods of suicide are made available never verge upon the painless.