Trial by Media

Not even those paragons of straight talk and free speech who constitute the Farage Falange are altogether immune to tetchiness when treated uncouthly by the Press; presumably because of all the time and effort they have spent resigning themselves to the touch of kid gloves. By contrast with the strutting Caudillo and his executive boardroom, who throw themselves into the public eye almost like a bunch of racist demagogues in a country of sixty million dupes, a Farage Falange county council has taken the Trumpsterite step of ostracising a local newspaper for the crime of reporting that a split had emerged in the cadres. Hence, rather than the old-fashioned practice of papers being sued by the aggrieved protagonists in their more colourful stories, the paper is suing the council for withdrawing the press-release feeding spoon. The council later condescended to recognise journalists funded by the famously Falange-friendly BBC; but legal action may still be forthcoming unless the newspaper can reach some sort of gentlemen's agreement with the political thugs it is meant to be scrutinising.

Unspiritual Warfare

It seems the methods used by the forces of atheistic leftism are growing ever more fiendish in their cunning, so that even the sacred hatred which Christians bear for other, slightly different Christians is not safe from false-flag misappropriation. The man suspected of sending some Michigan Mormons prematurely home to Jesus apparently displayed the Trumpster's name on his house and signed petitions against abortion rights and in favour of the Covid virus, besides blaspheming the good name of the Latter-Day Saints. Accordingly, the Trumpster and his head-tribble have eructated a more restrained response to the massacre than they did in the case of the martyred Charles James Kirk; presumably for fear that their more excitable acolytes might suspect them of being complicit in the conspiracy. It is only to be hoped that the beastly leftists never develop the Heathen Chinee subtlety that would enable them to carve misleading slogans into their used cartridge cases.

Muzzle Flashers

Despite having the word of the martyred prophet Charles James Kirk that the occasional high-school massacre is a price worth paying for the glories of the Second Amendment, the Christian state of Florida is all of a tizzy about where, when and how brazenly firearms may be flaunted. A sidekick of Governor Ronald of the Saints has endorsed a court ruling that carrying guns in public is legal, though in fact weapons are prohibited in various public locations including bars, hospitals and even schools, as well as in certain dubious and disreputable private residences; and various political and law enforcement officials have struggled to clarify the situation by requesting that citizens control their guns without slipping into gun control. One criminologist noted the roots of the open-carry rule in the days when concealed weapons were the preserve of criminals, and pronounced it debatable "whether or not you should be following 1789 traditions in 2025" - a dangerous question to ask in a country where state-approved standards of moral education are being cranked back as far as the Bronze Age.

All the Moderate and Sensible Talents

In keeping with his ambition to rebuild the soul of the nation through economic growth and British values, the CEO of Team Starmer has hired a Conservative baron to plot a way for His Majesty's Government to squirm out of yet more environmental obligations. The peer, whose services to working people got him ermined and elevated by Fishy Rishi, is to provide Team Starmer with a way around judicial reviews so that more green crap can be ditched faster, including the right of citizens to demand that His Majesty's Government prioritise a healthy environment over the profits of its corporate chums. Once such divisive and vexatious legal obstacles have been removed, the way will presumably be open to unite the kingdom yet further by proscribing environmental pressure groups as terrorist organisations.

The Temptation of Saint Anthony

Just as Lord Mandelbrot the Infinitely Recurring was uniquely qualified to deal with the Trumpster administration, so there is Another who is uniquely qualified to conduct the Palestinian Untermenschen unto their tranquil bantustans. Lord Mandelbrot was best pals with the Trumpster's favourite child sex trafficker, and his record as a leg-humping courtier to the squillionaire class spoke for itself. Similarly, the qualifications of the Blessed Tony to oversee the next stage of the final solution to the Palestinian problem can scarcely be gainsaid. His fawning relationship with the alcoholically demented chimpanzee whose handlers invaded Afghanistan and Iraq was an ideal preparation for an equally dignified relationship with the equally nominal US leader whose every thought and whim is defecated into his cranium by a rabid radioactive head-tribble. His reverence's record of bringing profit to the right sort of people has earned him a high standing with numerous dictators, despots and head-choppers; and according to Britain's leading liberal newspaper he is resented "broadly across the region for his role in backing the 2003 US invasion of Iraq," which translates into Oldspeak as "despised for wading enthusiastically into the blood-baths of Afghanistan and Iraq, but only among the little people." Searching for a bright side, a few diplomats were diplomatic enough to reassure the sceptical that his reverence's throne was by no means entirely assured, and that it might in any case take as little as two years for the position to gain him sufficient financial advantage.

Nation Shall Speak Profit Unto Nation

It appears that the martyrdom of the sainted Charles James Kirk has provoked an epiphany of sorts among the Heathen Chinee. Several companies are churning out knock-off merchandise with all the alacrity of a Catholic nunnery hawking pickled foreskins of the Apostles; some are insidious enough to promise that profits will be donated to the Heavenly Charlie's family or other enterprises, despite the Saviour's clear and repeated injunctions against worldly wealth. Fake social media accounts are being set up to promote the relics, yea even in the face of Facebook's rigorous scammer police: a practice upon which the Heavenly Hunk presumably looks down with gentle gladness at his role in helping the Heathen Chinee towards the adoption of authentic American values.

Umbrian 'Umble

In tribute to all the venture capitalists, stock-market gamblers and squillionaire manbabies who have recently emerged as hard-working, plain-speaking men of the people, the Italian government is to make the feast day of Francis of Assisi into a national holiday. Francis was born into a wealthy family but renounced worldly goods to take up the life of a mendicant friar; nevertheless, he was canonised by the founder of the mediaeval inquisition and declared Italy's patron saint by Hitler's pope, which presumably is how he made himself an acceptable paragon to the heirs of Mussolini.

One Dear Leader to Another

Such is the megalomania of Kim Jong-un that he appears to believe he can attain diplomatic rapport with an authoritarian military theocracy presided over by an overweight thug. Egged on by the weedy liberalism of the South Korean president, whose anti-Trumpsterian activities include supplanting a predecessor who attemped a right-wing coup, Kim proclaimed North Korea's right to an independent nuclear deterrent and implied that in its absence the US and its satraps might be tempted to behave imprudently. In fact, of course, the US and South Korea have committed only one quasi-genocidal assault on the North, which has long been forgotten by everyone who matters. Presumably Kim has been led by his sycophants to imagine that a mere silly haircut has some sort of moral equivalence with a rabid radioactive head-tribble, since few other explanations could account for the crazed arrogance of his posturing.

All Shall Have Neurotypicality

In keeping with the Christian tradition that women are best kept as uncomfortable as possible, the Trumpster administration is poised to announce that taking over-the-counter painkillers during pregnancy can increase the risk of autism in offspring. Paracetamol, which prudently goes under a pseudonym in the kingdom of the head-tribble, is safe according to merely medical guidelines; but the Kennedy brainworm has other ideas, especially now that the Trumpster may personally have solved autism anyway. Apparently there is a cancer and anaemia drug that can purportedly and potentially treat the condition; which is probably the best one can expect in the circumstances, and almost certainly an improvement on the sunshine and washing-up liquid solution to the Covid pandemic.

Carbon Fibre Capture and Storage

A superb sample of sustainable Britishness has emerged at Scotland's first commercial windfarm, where obsolete turbine blades are piling up in a warehouse because nobody knows how to recycle them. Some old blades are already in landfills, although energy companies have vowed to work with government bodies in finding more efficient solutions, at least insofar as the said government bodies have not yet decided to employ "temporary" expedients in the tradition of war and income tax. A few blades can be re-used for bus and bicycle shelters, and it can only be a matter of time before His Majesty's Government initiates a programme for asylum seekers to build their own accommodation using turbine blades and their bare hands. Some of the beastly Euro-wogs have more ambitious ideas, but these are unlikely to be of interest given Team Starmer's decision to rely upon the nation's eminently safe and sustainable stocks of home-grown uranium, doubtless in the hope of providing a suitably hospitable environment for the Trumpster and his radioactive head-tribble on the occasion of their third state visit.

Some People are Never Satisfied

Well was it said of Northern Ireland that it has a problem for every solution. No sooner had the Troubles ended than the Good Friday agreement permitted a trickle of immigrants, who despite decades of squealing hysteria on the mainland are facing persecution at the hands of stout, patrioic Britons who feel the need to defend themselves against unaccompanied child asylum seekers. Nevertheless, having polluted the clear, calm waters of Brexit with its interminable borders and backstops, the colony's government seems now to view wog-bashing as a potential problem rather than, as in Westminster, a cross-party, one-size-fits-all solution to practically everything.

Dirty Holes

Those who mock and snigger at the supposed incoherence of the Trumpster's pronunciamenti will doubtless be duly confounded by the revelation that one of his fiefdoms in Scotland is awash with human waste. The Trumpster's Aberdeenshire golf course, whose thirty-six orifices are augmented by various gulping and guzzling facilities for hard-working wealth creators, has a private sewage system which, like England's privatised ones, manifests no particular interest in complying with petty bureaucratic rules and regulations. Contaminant levels have been breached fourteen times in the past six years, with eight of the incidents classified as "extreme events which have the potential to cause immediate and serious environmental harm" and to trigger enforcement action unless the head-tribble demands otherwise. It was presumably one such demand that led Team Starmer to commemorate its best pal's second state rah-rah by ordering the Environment Agency to stop prioritising the environment.

Cheap at the Price

Taxpayers who lost their lives to Fishy Rishi's Eat Out to Help Out virus facilitation scheme will be gratified to learn that the Trumpster's second term in office isn't the only thing they have escaped. They are also spared the knowledge of having been stiffed for four hundred million by Fishy Rishi's Future Fund investment scheme, which threw money at nearly twelve hundred companies of which some thirty per cent, in customary Fishy Rishi fashion, subsequently went bust. On the bright side, the price of training about thirty nurses was invested in companies linked to Fishy Rishi's wife; so, as with those who saved the NHS money by dying for Eat Out to Help Out, the sacrifice was by no means entirely in vain.

Blessed are the Merciful

The Christian state of Florida is setting new records in the infliction of divine mercy, with three executions scheduled for the next four weeks. Governor Ronald of the Saints has signed more death warrants this year than even his most pious predecessors, with beneficiaries including a man found guilty of usurping the divine prerogative by killing off the family of someone against whom he had a grudge. An appeal on the grounds of quasi-Republican intellectual endowment was thrown out; so it remains unclear whether, in the unlikely event of his facing justice for endangering thousands of ordinary citizens, Ronald of the Saints himself would be able to cop an IQ plea.

On His Merits

Lord Mandelbrot the Infinitely Recurring was permitted his latest recrudescence without the inconvenience of a security vetting, according to the Ministry for Wogs and the White House. Evidently Team Starmer was so anxious to prove its patriotism that the ambassadorship was awarded on the strength of a nod, a wink and Lord Mandelbrot's long and fragrant track record of leg-humping the excessively wealthy. In the presence of so iconic an epitome of Blairite values, mere security checks would have been an unpardonable breach of Britishness; thus His Majesty's Government decided to carry them out only when, with impeccably British timing, it was too late. With equally impeccable British common sense, a Ministry flunkey pointed out that if there had been anything obviously suspect about Lord Mandelbrot he would hardly have been in the running for the chancellorship of Oxford University or the presentership of Radio Murdoch; just as Jimmy Savile could never have worked at the BBC or Boris Johnson been made prime minister had either of them exuded the smallest whiff of the not altogether above board.

Insidious Subtlety

Mindful as ever that domestic dissent is most effectively squashed under the weight of a real or fictitious international conflict, His Majesty's Loyal Opposition has been squealing with patriotic indignation over the Crown Prosecution Service dropping charges against two men whom the previous administration accused of spying for the Heathen Chinee. One Conservative squealed that "given the gravity of the charges" it was astonishing that they should have been withdrawn, since obviously an accusation becomes more true the more grave it happens to be. Another Conservative squealed that dropping the charges would "embolden our enemies and make us look unwilling to defend our own nation even when attacked," even though we are not being attacked and have in fact spent most of the last few decades using self-defence as a ramshackle rubric for attacking other countries. For its own part, the CPS has simply said that it will not offer any evidence in the case; but by disturbing contrast with other cases where national security has been invoked in place of evidence, it does not appear that the Government will be expecting a guilty verdict anyway.

Not Who We'd Care to Admit We Are

Legitimate and understandable as some concerns may be, especially to people who are worried about living on an island of strangers, there still have to be limits if economic growth is to be sustained, the Righteous State successfully defended and the beastly foreigns kept from our sacred shores. Thus the CEO of Team Starmer has proclaimed, in the wake of yesterday's far-right rally, that the English flag is not to be surrendered to those who would use it as a symbol of violence, fear and division. The CEO of Team Starmer famously has a house full of English flags, none of which are symbols of anything but pride in tolerance, diversity and respect for anyone who doesn't argue that skin colour might be a factor in racism or that something which looks like a genocide, sounds like a genocide and has been extensively advertised by its perpetrators as a genocide might in fact be a genocide. Meanwhile, in an encouraging victory for law and order, the Metropolitan Police arrested twenty-four out of the hundred-and-something thousand non-supporters of Palestine Action who were present.

O Ye of Little Faith

It is a truth not quite universally acknowledged, that the vast majority of Christians have not read the Bible, do not follow the teachings of Jesus, and have no real belief in their own or their loved ones' prospects of Paradise. They do not love their enemies, they do not forgive those who sin against them, they do not rejoice at being slandered and persecuted, and they do not do good to their persecutors. The widow of the late lamented Charles James Kirk is no exception: her ignorance of the Gospels is such that she appears to believe Jesus was sent to bring families together, and she seems positively irritable at the fact that her husband has been so promptly and painlessly transported to Heaven. She showered effusive praise upon the Trumpster and his slimy little henchman, and pledged to continue her husband's spiritual yet palpable warfare against the different and the disobedient; and in this at least she has faithfully emulated her Lord and Saviour, who promised to rain fire and brimstone upon the unworthy, and whose Father set up an eternal concentration camp for everyone He disliked.

Tough Choices

For the true British patriot, there can be few choices tougher than that between racism and banging people up; yet Team Starmer and its policy-makers in the Farage Falange have somehow contrived to impose exactly that cruel dilemma. Prison officers sponsored to migrate from overseas are to be expelled from the mainland because their wages aren't high enough: an outstandingly British arrangement which could remove a thousand staff from His Majesty's criminal warehousing and retribution service just as thousands of terrorists are supporting Palestine Action. Since bringing back the death penalty for practically everything will presumably have to wait until British law is no longer encumbered by human rights, it remains as yet unclear whether Team Starmer's solution will be compulsory carceral service for unemployed teenagers, or recycling all the luxury hotel space which is soon to be vacated and filling it up with less heinous criminals than the average asylum seeker.

Wales and Gnashing of Teeth

It's all kicking off again at Bangor Cathedral, where the previous culture of being almost interesting has run into a bit of a hangover. Management has decided that the old régime of sex, booze and bad language must be atoned for in the traditional British manner, by sacking a lot of the little people and reducing the wages of the survivors. Since poverty and obedience apparently have no place in Wanglican Christianity, the choir responded to the penance with a protest song and then walked out. Such irreverence was all the more traumatic for taking place during the solemn and sacred rite when a dead Palestinian fundamentalist magics Himself into cheap wine and wafers; and the choir has been suspended for a month to meditate upon its transgressions. Management also recommends that everyone pull together for the sake of the Gospel, which might well fall into disrepute should expendable Christians fail to accept their martyrdom cheerfully enough.

Mysterious Oversight

Thoughts and prayers will be reverberating through the celestial switchboards, presumably as effectively as ever, after an ally of the Trumpster and his head-tribble fell victim to a tragic misinterpretation of the Second Amendment. The unscheduled projectile absorption incident has already elicited the usual pieties about violence having no place in the country of the weekly school shooting, the Immigrant Cleansification Executive and the proposed occupation of various cities by National Guard peacekeeping forces. It remains as yet unclear whether there were fine people on both sides of this particular assassination attempt, but the state governor has pledged that "those responsible will be held fully accountable;" so doubtless Baby Jesus will have questions to answer about why He failed to find an expendable into whom the bullets could be redirected.

Flab Trimmed

It's all very well to whinge and whine about food banks and zero-hours contracts, but today's tough economic circumstances can lead to genuine hardship even for those who aren't little people. Since he paid his dues by driving the economy through the floorboards and setting the stage for the Brexit calamity, George Osborne's time has been spent slithering sadly from sinecure to sinecure, and he is now not even expected to collect a windfall payment from the take-over of the investment bank which he favours with his glistening presence between bouts of online rah-and-blah alongside the equally appealing husband of Yvette Cooper. In laudable accordance with the investment bank's duties towards its stakeholders, Osborne is to move into a part-time role because everyone has agreed to let him spend plenty of time out of their company.

Giving Something Back

Researchers have discovered that rich people who profited by the transatlantic slave trade also contributed to the hardships inflicted on poor people in Britain. As believers in the virtues of working hard and playing by the rules, slave traders invested time and money in the workhouse system, whose inmates earned moral redemption by producing textiles and caulking for slave ships and their merchandise. One researcher noted that profitable incarceration in the workhouse system might be linked to profitable incarceration in modern prisons and wog warehousing emporia, although more work will be required to certify the legitimacy of the comparison. Doubtless with his funding in mind, the same researcher proclaimed that "we can't tell the story of British welfare (sic) without acknowledging its deep entanglement with empire and slavery" while wagging a circumspect finger at those who would suggest that some varied and slightly divergent schemes of forced labour for the profit of a wealthy few might have anything significant in common.

More Border, More Force

Since whipping an island of strangers into world-beating shape is necessarily a military concern, it's only natural that Team Starmer should be considering the use of military sites for wog warehousing. Deportations are being unnecessarily delayed; partly because the Conservatives and their Liberal Democrat enablers sacked most of the civil servants responsible for processing asylum claims, but mostly because the asylum seekers who run the deep state don't wish to give up their family values and their luxury hotel suites. Team Starmer is determined to remedy the situation, and has extruded the Minister for Wog-Bombing for a burble about setting up military boot-'em-out camps to purify the race even sooner than originally promised. Astoundingly, this seems unlikely to satisfy Team Starmer's policymakers in the Farage Falange, who would prefer to see the migrant menace concentrated in specially manufactured steel canisters. Presumably this option will come under consideration once Britain's economic growth has taken off and the country can afford to import the requisite items and pay landlords to set them up.

Old Men in a Hurry

As is only to be expected given its status as one of the largest and least accountable child abuse machines in modern history, the Church of Rome is itching to attract more young people. To that holy end, the Pope is about to canonise a teenage internet coder who died in 2006, alongside a youthful activist who died a century ago when his loving God blessed him with polio. The more modern saint is credited with having miraculously healed two people after his own funeral; the implication presumably being that any physicians who treated the beneficiaries were either unqualified or incompetent. Since idolatry is a sin, various bits and pieces are available for the pious to view in reinforcement of their faith, if also in defiance of the Saviour's clear injunction that the law and the prophets should be enough for anyone. Shockingly, the nascent cult is already being ruthlessly exploited by actual criminals, who are selling purported relics online as if faith alone could make them authentic.

Honest Don

So confident in their power are the Trumpster and his head=tribble that they remain unintimidated even by certain objective facts, provided the facts are sufficiently crude and impolite. Hence the reversal of the Orwellian re-branding which was imposed upon the Pentagon after the glorious victory at Nagasaki, in preparation for the purely defensive era that began with the genocidal assault on Korea and continued through Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya, various crusades in Latin America and the Middle East, and threats of nuclear war over Cuba. Thanks to the head-tribble's messy economic policy, the idea that in certain contexts US military aggression might be considered aggressive had already begun to dawn even upon a few journalists; and no doubt the Department of War's reversion to its original rubric will precipitate further surprises.

Soldiers of Fortune

Fretting about climate change is all very well for the inhabitants of ideological ivory towers, but in the real world one must adapt to the tough decisions of governments and their owners. In accordance with such hard-headed practicality, a new broom at Lloyd's of London has decreed that insurers will no longer be discouraged from underwriting fossil fuel projects, on the grounds that apolitical neutrality is what makes Lloyd's a safe harbour; much as it once made the Wehrmacht so valuable to certain moderate and sensible opponents of left-wing extremism. While there is undoubtedly room for legitimate debate as to whether the planet should be allowed to remain habitable, it is hardly the business of Lloyd's to come down on one side or the other.

AIDS Aids

Since God so loves the poor that He habitually commends them to the care of those least inclined to help, it should come as no surprise that He has visited the consequences of a rich manbaby's meanness upon those least able to withstand them. A hundred days after the Trumpster administration froze aid to eastern Africa, the human immunodeficiency virus is making fine entrepreneurial headway: recovering from recession in adults who are infected, and increasing its share of the market by spreading to the children of newly unmedicated mothers. A report by Physicians for Human Rights (an organisation whose very name renders it doubly contemptible to the political mainstream in the Free World™) looks with Communistic disapproval towards a future characterised by increased medical costs for the little people and increased opportunities for practitioners who are unencumbered by such outdated scruples as first doing no harm. It is to be hoped that eastern Africa can regain its moral sense and implement Christian solutions such as celibacy and a ban on blood transfusions before the suffering starts to seem unnecessary.

Still Cleaning Up

Greatly to the indignation of a committee from the House of Expenses Claimants, some private companies have been serving their primary purpose, namely to make money for their shareholders. Moisture provision profiteers in England spent sixteen and a half million over the last five years paying lawyers to reduce their liability for illegal sewage dumping and other little hobbies, even though the money was thrown at them by the Government and nobody forced them to spend it on infrastructure instead. One Labour MP warned that her constituents would be outraged, which will almost certainly have nearly as salutary an effect upon the future corporate consultants of Team Starmer as upon the moisture provision executives themselves.

Right Wheels

Although the austere luxuries of the Ajax may still be reserved for the nation's plucky little servicepersons, armoured-vehicle Britishness is by no means off limits to the more deserving civilian. Having allowed car manufacturers to dodge targets for replacing petroleum vehicles with more environmentally responsible ones, the CEO of Team Starmer has been informed that the entrepreneurial gumption of Jaguar Land Rover Automotive PLC does not extend to designing bomb-proof electric cars. The beastly Euro-wogs seem to have managed it by some nefarious foreign means; but the vocally vexillophiliac CEO of Team Starmer is unlikely to forsake Jaguar Land Rover for BMW as long as his most favoured demographic includes so many patriots who personally won the Second World War on behalf of Britain's white working class.