No Foe Too Formidable

Much like the greatest country in the world, whose uniquely robust and superior cultchah is under continuous existential threat from a few thousand refugees, the World Cop by the grace of God has endured deadly danger at the tentacles of enemies many and horrid. Nicaragua, North Korea, Libya, Cuba, Iran, Iraq and Venezuela are just a handful of the world-bestriding behemoths which have imperilled the leader of the Free World, brushing aside its meagre armed forces and nugatory nuclear arsenal with insidious infiltration and morale-sapping asymmetric terror tactics. Among the latest is Tonga, which has a population a full one-seventh the size of Washington DC's and has now joined various melanin-mongering powers of darkness on the Trumpster administration's new year travel blacklist. It is certainly to be hoped that such measures will prove adequate to protect the leadership of the Free World, and that the Tongan onslaught will not necessitate excessive invasions of San Francisco or nuclear strikes on Salt Lake City.

For Justice, Decency and Our Way of Life

Although the Reverend Blair had few scruples about putting Britain's plucky little soldiers in the firing line in the service of the late Dick Cheney and his pet chimpanzee, the possibility of their being answerable for war crimes was clearly a different matter. His reverence took care to ensure that British soldiers suspected of beating an Iraqi prisoner to death would not be tried except by other British soldiers who would understand, rather than by the International Criminal Court which is mostly for wogs, or by a civilian court which might imagine that bigger and richer war criminals ought to be made answerable as well. Eventually a corporal was found guilty of inhumanity towards civilians, cashiered and sentenced to a slightly shorter term in jail than is currently being served, without trial, by several people who objected to inhumanity towards civilians.

Medicinal Pricks

Remarkably enough, a mere third of the Farage Falange's local authority gauleiters are vaccine deniers, despite the conspiracy theory's endorsement by a cardiologist who also happens to be quack-in-ordinary to the Trumpster administration's Kennedy brainworm. Among the Falange's medico-intellectual élite is naturally the brilliant leader of the upsucking Kent cadre, who has boasted that her accomplices are "not afraid to debate topics that other people have decided must be silenced." As with those not afraid to debate the shape of the planet or the authorship of Shakespeare, the mere presence of long-established and verifiable truth does nothing to obstruct the feast of reason. Nevertheless, the profitable-healthcare wing of Team Starmer has not thus far found it expedient to follow the Farage Falange's lead on this particular topic; evidently the moderate and sensible view is still to prefer customers over corpses at least some of the time.

Routine Cleansing

A forceful response has been ordered after one of the Palestinian Untermenschen reduced the master race by two, in violation of all civilised values and in defiance of the international community's preference that at least one side in the conflict ought to cease fighting. Just as it would be wrong and antisemitic to connect the October 2023 attacks with the occupation of Gaza, so the attack by a denizen of the West Bank is to receive a response proportionate to the Righteous State's sacred right of self-defence. Denouncing any such response as collective punishment would also be wrong and antisemitic, given that the Righteous State tends to respond in more or less the same sacrosanct manner whether anyone attacks it or not.

Kings and Things

Hopes of an Anglo-Trumpster trade deal will doubtless be revitalised with the news of an impending royal visit to the kingdom of the head-tribble. The last such occasion was during the almost equally distinguished presidency of the Bush chimpanzee, presumably because he was the last American leader with sufficient intellectual acumen and personal dignity to be impressed by the House of Windsor. Next year's visit will coincide with the two-hundred-and-fiftieth anniversary of the USA's declaration of independence from a mentally incompetent autocrat of German descent; fortunately for everyone concerned, Team Starmer's United Kingdom is unlikely to reciprocate in kind.

Not Peace, But a Sword

While the Pope, the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Defender of the Faith have contented themselves with mouthing the usual seasonal platitudes, the Trumpster and his head-tribble have celebrated the birth of Baby Jesus in the proper style, by wog-bombing some African Muslims. From the days of Saint Peter until now, loving one's enemies to death has been as central to the true faith as arbitrary government and eternal torment; and the beneficiaries in this case were not only Muslims but Nigrahs as well, which makes their extrajudicial execution as authentically Murcan as it is quintessentially Christian. Those who claim that the conflict in Nigeria results from the interplay of more complex historical, economic and social forces are of course edging perilously close to the un-American heresy of Dialectical Materialism, and it is to be hoped for their own sake that they can redeem themselves through accepting and sharing in the Trumpster's crusader spirit.

Nominal Culture

From the conquest of the native savages to the liberation of Latin America, re-writing history has always been a deeply un-American act; hence the displays of righteous indignation over the re-christening of a centre for performing arts in Washington DC, which has hitherto borne the name of a wealthy war criminal who succeeded rather spectacularly in an area of political promotion where the Trumpster has thus far achieved little more than a grazed earlobe. The Trumpster and his head-tribble are pledged to orient the centre's programme towards encouraging Americans to ask not what their country can do for them but rather what they can do for their country, and have added the Trumpster's own name to that of the famous martyr to gun control. A trustee has started a lawsuit based on the nugatory technicality that this adjustment is illegal, and a relative of the deified forebear has proclaimed that the change makes about as much sense as re-naming the Lincoln Memorial. Indeed, it would surely be no more than justice to balance the memory of the sixteenth president, who fought the first civil war in order to keep the country together, with that of the president whose head-tribble seems happy to divide the country until a second civil war comes along.

Another Day, Another Virtuous Remonstrance

Along with thirteen lesser nations, the UK has very pluckily braved the inevitable squeals of antisemitism from the Righteous State by having words about the approval of nineteen new colonial incursions in the West Bank. Although the settlements are merely considered illegal, and therefore do not merit any retaliation vulgar enough to be considered a penalty, His Majesty's Government and its allies courageously contributed yet more of their precious verbiage towards a just and lasting peace. Nevertheless, it remains open to question whether the Righteous State, after all this time and effort, will be inclined to leave its newly conquered Lebensraum fallow, even in the face of such overwhelming moral force.

Hopping Mad

Advertising for a brand of Brazilian sandals features a film star unforgivably implying moral equivalence between left and right feet: a blasphemy made all the more heinous by the inclusion of the national flag among the manufacturer's trademarks. Supporters of Jair Bolsonaro, who has suffered footwear problems of his own thanks to a recalcitrant ankle tag, are calling for a boycott; while the wannabe-dictator's own son has daringly had himself filmed throwing sandals into a bin. On the bright side, thanks to the storming forth of fascist snowflakes it seems the arrival of summer in the Southern Hemisphere will not necessarily prevent a white Feastmas.

There Are Limits

Justice hath taken up her pen,
Humanely legislating:
We'll crate no pig, nor cage a hen,
Nor shoot a hare that's mating.

Because we are a kindly race
And sentimental nation,
We'll loose no dogs on deadly chase
Nor boil a live crustacean.

We'll open up Compassion's door
To beasts of any phylum,
And slam it if you're human, poor
And come to ask asylum.

Nigel Cudleigh-Britton

They Hate Our Reliability

Britain's plucky little manufacturers have suffered yet another stab in the back from the beastly Euro-wogs, who continue to insist on treating the UK as a non-member of the EU even though the UK happens not to be a member of the EU. Since the Strasbrussels dictatorship has unaccountably refused to follow orders from the mainland and exempt the master race from a new set of green taxes, British independence will continue for the foreseeable future to cut red tape after its accustomed fashion. Presumably in humorous mood, the enemy's climate commissioner proclaimed that the price to be paid will be minimal, on the grounds that decarbonisation in Britain is still moving forward thanks to Team Starmer's inefficiency in slamming on the brakes.

Dumb Brutes

Apparently there are differences between wounded quadrupeds and wounded human beings that even the military mind cannot altogether overlook. Training of American military medics will no longer include the shooting of animals to simulate battlefield injuries; although the pleasures of stabbing, burning and bludgeoning, and the scientific joys of critter-testing new hardware, will not be withdrawn. A retired naval doctor noted the difficulty in replicating the experience of treating a genuine human being; which presumably explains why there are as yet no publicly acknowledged plans to offer medical trainees the opportunity of practicing on non-Christians, immigrants or Democrats.

Currency Reform

In Kent, the county where they suck things up, the Farage Falange flagship foray into local government seems to have run into another bit of bilge trouble. Having boasted in July about the squillions saved by scrapping two environmental projects, the unpurged remnants of the council have now admitted, after much pestering by a Labour MP, that the projects had not been started. The squillions in question were based on, or at any rate vaguely related to, "forward-looking assumptions within the capital programme rather than approved or committed schemes;" and the Kent cadre of the Farage Falange has not deigned to amass any bureaucratic documentation on the matter, thereby saving the hard-pressed taxpayer yet more unnecessary expense while freeing up more time for flag-related activities. Lucky residents will doubtless rejoice to find that protection from the non-existent migrant threat has been augmented by probity with non-existent finances. Still, it remains to be seen how much more of the council's budget has been drawn up according to the same convenient future-conditional principles, and whether the council will permit its constituents a similar degree of fiscal flexibility.

Our Hospitality

Unless and until His Majesty's Government succeeds in getting human rights appropriately reduced for the Untermenschen, refugee status will inevitably continue to be granted some people even upon our island of strangers. Team Starmer has duly taken revenge by allowing only four weeks' notice before evicting refugees from government accommodation; a pilot scheme was introduced last year to increase the period to eight weeks, but this was quickly abandoned in moderate and sensible deference to the all-important Farage Falange demographic. Even so, the high court has compelled the Ministry for Wog Control to allow the extra time for more than three thousand people who were at risk of homelessness, though not for anyone who may have been kicked out during the interim. If all goes well and there is no further interference from the judiciary, the beneficiaries of the high court ruling should now be on the streets by mid-January, when the weather will be even more conducive to decreasing the surplus population than it is now.

Crisis of Confidence

Only a year into the Trumpster's second term in office, suspicion is dawning among the minions of Team Starmer that the tangerine emperor and his head-tribble may not be altogether reliable as trading partners. While what is left of the White House almost certainly cares just as little about the NHS as anyone in His Majesty's Government, there remain significant doubts over whether the Trumpster's whims will permit the terminal stage to proceed as rapidly as Wideboy Wesley Streeting might prefer. It is even possible that the Trumpster's volatility may destabilise the private sector and thus endanger the post-governmental prospects of senior ministers: a threat made all the more serious by the clear and present intention of the great British public to elect the actual Farage Falange next time, in preference to any of the three major parties that merely agree with it in all the essentials.

Colonial Architecture

Insidious and un-American elements are treacherously conspiring to undermine the Trumpsterisation of the White House. The monarch and his head-tribble have effected the demolition of the former presidential palace's east wing in order to construct a "ballroom" in which, once the tangerine transporter unit finally disintegrates altogether, the head-tribble will presumably reside, multiply, feed, and expand to its natural Cyclopean dimensions. Responding to a court filing against the vandalism, the Trumpster administration argued that the process cannot be stopped because it has already started, and that it cannot be criticised because it doesn't exist yet; at least not beyond the demolition and some underground work of dubiously Euclidean quality. The administration has expressed a willingness to share details with the judge in private, where the head-tribble can ensure that the pure waters of justice and its own radioactive defecations are brought to appropriately constructive communion.

But Is She Worthy Of Us?

Tolerance through gritted teeth is a famous component of British decency, and nowhere more in evidence than at the Ministry for Wog Control. A refugee from the Democratic Republic of the Congo who lived here as a law-abiding resident for eighteen years had her citizenship application refused on the grounds that her initial entry on a false passport made her an undesirable character. With an extra-economy helping of the gruel of British charity, she was further informed that £130 of the £1600 application fee would be refunded because the refusal meant she would not be obliged to attend a ceremony of initiation into the more disposable reaches of the master race. In the face of legal action, and despite the Home Secretary's recent receipt of the Tommyrot Yaxleyson Compassionate Award for wog disposal, the ministry eventually condescended to let the lady stay; so her actual deportation will have to wait until Team Starmer succeeds in removing the protection of international law from asylum seekers, and/or finally lets the strutting Caudillo of the Farage Falange into Downing Street.

Just Rewards

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that capitalism's beasts of burden have only one valid reason for objecting to the policies of their drivers and owners; namely that the policies are inadequately propagandised. Taking to heart the warnings of Wideboy Wesley Streeting, who recently advised Team Starmer to improve its sales patter, the Investment Association has warned against awarding large executive pay hikes without giving an adequate excuse. The standard pretext at the moment is "benchmarking," whereby adding the extra zeroes to the boardroom incentive is deemed necessary to protect bosses from the moral burden of turning themselves into economic migrants. Team Starmer's own use of a magical boilerplate tagline, viz. "pending approval by the Farage Falange demographic," has arguably not quite achieved the desired results; and the IA has advised that companies too should deign to explain themselves a bit further now and then, if only to keep the shareholders from feeling as if they're being treated like mere taxpayers.

Political Economy

Since Russia's assault on Ukraine remains a model of humane restraint compared with the Righteous State's reconstruction of Gaza, it's natural enough that Britain and the EU should come over all legalistic about freezing Russian assets. Predictably, Russia has responded with threats of retaliation through the courts, on top of its current terror tactics of shining bright lights at easily distracted British military pilots. Were the concept not so outlandish, one might almost imagine that Tsar Vladimir and his court believe the law should be adjusted for the convenience of those who wish to break it.

One Does Not Neglect a Mansion in Order to Sweep a Hovel

As noted by your correspondent last month, there exist certain environmental catastrophes which are so massive and so severe, and so impudent in afflicting the nice people, that they may on occasion drive even a Conservative parliamentary expenses claimant into paroxysms of virtuous wrath. Thus the vast unauthorised waste dump in Oxfordshire is to be cleared at the taxpayer's expense, while leaving less refined populations in full possession of similar amenities. No action, let alone funding, will be forthcoming from His Majesty's Government; although in compensation we are promised some New Year resolutions which will no doubt prove as durable as most. Meanwhile the Environment Agency is pledged to make "efficiencies in its operations," which usually translates into Oldspeak as sacking people and contracting out to either the cheapest option or the option best equipped to furnish the appropriate kickbacks; so there still remains the possibility that the Oxfordshire clean-up will be down to approximately the same standards as the provinces have come to expect.

Won't Someone Please Invoke Magna Carta?

Despite the fact that the House of Lords has long been a blatant sinecure farm whereby governments reward their donors, quieten their catamites, and ensure that their legislation is scrutinised by the right sort of people; and despite the upper chamber's insistence that Team Starmer's dilute employment rights bill needs watering down even further, and that suicide should continue to be facilitated only by induced hopelessness and shrugs of over-diagnosis - despite all this, there seems lately to be a whiff of possibility that the House may risk appearing somehow undemocratic. Yet worse, there are rumours of the Lords being thought unconstitutional as well, presumably because the nation's nonexistent constitution grants the electorate not a scintilla of influence over which ermine-clad buffoons infest the maundering-chamber or simply sit back and wait for the taxpayer-funded benefits to flow in. Alas, since meaningful constitutional reform would be no more moderate or sensible than nationalising the water supply or paying for a functional justice system, Team Starmer has little alternative but to whine about the unfairness of it all.

Not Quite British Enough

Britain's world-beating Neanderthals were making and controlling fire some eight times further back than previously thought. A site in Sussex shows evidence of fire being made by a palaeolithic culture some hundreds of thousands of years before the ancestors of Homo sapiens ipsedixit left Africa to subject the Neanderthals to their Great Replacement. One of the archaeological team was careful to guess that our own species would not have fallen behind in the technological race; doubtless because the Neanderthals are thought to have contented themselves with food-sharing, storytelling and other social interactions, rather than with more evolved pastimes such as warfare and witch-hunts.

Oh, the Ingratitude

You starve them and torture and kill them,
With love of true freedom to fill them -
Yet when you're viceroy,
They share not your joy
But whine that the prospect won't thrill them!

You smarm and connive and canoodle,
And leg-hump like any good poodle -
Yet Master is bold
And dares to withhold
Your doggy-bag full of the boodle!

Anthony Fitzgeorge Butcher

Whom God Hath Made Infertile

It seems that certain American military personnel (the more expendable ones, no doubt) may have to forgo the privilege of breeding new little soldiers for freedom. Healthcare provision for members of the US military on active duty will not include IVF treatment, because of an unacceptable risk of harm to the great American foetus. Being a coathanger fan for whom embryos are people even if women are not, the speaker of the House of Representatives has done some back-street dealing to get the provision removed from the latest War Department legislation. It remains as yet unclear what the reaction will be from the Trumpster and his head-tribble, who had pledged to ensure access to IVF on the grounds that American democracy can never have too many unsocialised inarticulate screamers.

Egypt Wasn't Swamped

As the nation approaches the orgasm stage in that three-month orgy of sales-talk, saccharine and sanctimony which is the Season of Feastmas, the annual copyright war has broken out over who really owns the Baby Jesus. The Home Secretary's fellow patriot, the Reverend Tommyrot Yaxleyson, is urging that Christ be put back into Christmas (I should have thought the clue was in the name, but literalism can be a dangerous thing); while the Church of England is planning a poster campaign implying that the Saviour might have had some sort of soft spot for goats as well as sheep. One bishop even had the gall to invoke the flight into Egypt, which succeeded because the parents of Baby Jesus had friends in high places and which involved leaving numerous other infants to be massacred while the Father sat twiddling His omnipotent thumbs. It's difficult to see what reason to change their views the Reverend Tommyrot Yaxleyson or his flock might find in that compassionate display.

Torrid Tower Tour Terror

Just as Palestinian independence is a laudable enough goal provided it serves the interests of the Righteous State and its backers, so redistribution of wealth can be a harmless enough policy provided it enriches the right sort of people. Alas, such nuance is lost upon those who weaponise apple crumble in the service of their treasonous schemes to undermine the nation's heritage. A protest group has staged a crumble-related incident at the Tower of London, assaulting some hefty Ruritanian headgear and criminally damaging the tourist industry in the name of taxing the rich. Fortunately the Crown Jewels were unharmed, thanks to a borderline un-British degree of foresight in rendering them resistant to lower-class stodge. Nevertheless, the police having rather loosely categorised the missile as food, it is to be expected that His Majesty's Government will take steps to proscribe any desserts with similar terroristic potential.

Beasts of England

These contradictions are not accidental, nor do they result from ordinary hypocrisy: they are deliberate exercises in doublethink.
Emmanuel Goldstein

Streets named after bird species are proliferating despite the actual populations having been in precipitous decline for half a century; while use of the word meadow in street names has increased even as meadows in vulgar actuality have almost disappeared. As a nation that sides with the underdog, Britain rewards the rich and bashes refugees; as a nation that loves the NHS, Britain votes for tax-cutters and staff-deporters; and as the nation that won the war against fascism, Britain rallies to the Farage Falange. Few things could be more natural than that, as a nation of nature-lovers, Britain should pay nominative tribute to its wildlife while letting mere creatures die out.

Decency Draws a Line

Righteously infuriated at the economic and social damage which has resulted from our cutting off the Continent, the great British public now seems happy to consider for the nation's highest office the loudest and most prominent campaigner for that brilliant piece of statecraft. Thus the great British establishment, fearful of a second Trussonomic seizure enlivened with a touch of Idi Amin's unprofitable purge of Ugandan Asians, has lumbered into action. Apparently there was a time, albeit quite a while ago, when the strutting Caudillo of the Farage Falange might have come over as a bit of a racist. The echoes of the anti-Corbyn witch-hunt are deafening in their subtlety, and the fact that the accusations were ridiculously false in the case of the social democrat and are crushingly plausible in the case of the Question Time stalwart is, of course, irrelevant in polite company. Connoisseurs of Britishness (or "double standards and hypocrisy" as the Caudillo himself hath it) will also be entertained by the uncompromising focus on the schoolboy racism of forty years ago: too much attention to the schoolboy racism of today would risk awkward comparisons with the moderate, sensible and electorally successful migrant-bashing practised by the casual racist Cameron, the hysterical racist May, the blithering racist Johnson, and the opportunistic racists of Team Starmer.

Liquid Assets

New depths of British entrepreneurial gumption are being plumbed at Thames Water, which has announced half-yearly profits of four hundred million as a preliminary to squealing for more hand-outs. The company has been allowed to screw its customers for another thirty per cent on the bills, but not even the moderate sensibles of Team Starmer have so far capitulated to demands that fifteen years' worth of fines for environmental misconduct should be waived in advance. Even so, the national religion may yet require such a sacrifice in order to forestall the abhorrent expedient of temporary nationalisation, which the Government is anxious to avoid because of the slippery slope towards the antisemitic, extremist crypto-Putinism that would be permanent nationalisation.

Up in the Air

Now that the beastly Russians have taken to abusing the Freedom of the Seas and shining bright lights in people's eyes, it should be obvious to all true patriots that the master race can never be too well armed. Happily, there are three separate projects afoot to produce a rah-rah new fighter, quite possibly with a tinted canopy; and the spirit of competition which makes capitalism so efficient has already ensured that at least one of them is in trouble because two of the companies collaborating on its production hate each other. In addition, and rather brilliantly, developers are struggling to minimise dependence on rare earth metals because the main supplier happens to be the Heathen Chinee. Not only have the cunning fiends imposed export controls in response to the trade war launched by Britain's greatest ally, but the issue might prove a little embarrassing in a couple of decades' time should a fighter at last be produced and then required to assert the sovereignty of plucky little Formosa.

Mostly Routine Incapacity

Just as there is nothing more natural and Christian when telling the truth than to assert that one is not lying, so there is nothing more normal when everything is normal than to issue a public proclamation about just how normal everything is. Thus, in the wake of some fairly normal racial slurs and death threats from the Trumpster, the White House issued a statement from the monarch's personal corporeal care custodian, Captain Sean Prettybeard, asserting that the royal heart and bowels are still in their acccustomed settings and performing their normal activities. No attempt was made to delineate the normality of the brain; presumably because the death threats and racial slurs have already made clear that the Trumpster's cranial endowments are at least as normal as those of a tangerine minimanual octogenarian powered by the radioactive defecations of a rabid mutant head-tribble possibly could be.