It Seemed So Commonsensical

Britain's liberation from the Strasbrussels yoke continues to throw up all manner of surprises, and the latest is that exports of farm products to the EU have declined by some forty per cent. According to the president of the National Farmers' Union, among the beastly Euro-wogs "there aren’t empty spaces on the shelves with a label saying 'waiting for British products'," which is typically unhelpful of them. Hence, contrary to all the most patriotic forecasts by the Farage Falange and its fellow travellers, it seems that cutting off our biggest and nearest trading partner has not as yet proved a particularly rapid route to national prosperity. Doubtless the straightforward British pragmatism of a future Farage Falange administration will speedily resolve the paradox.

Even Change Can Go Too Far

We are all aware by now that nobody who worked closely with Lord Mandelbrot the Infinitely Recurring had the slightest idea that anything might possibly be amiss about him; and such innocence is particularly poignant in the case of the Minister for Poverty and Workfare, who dispensed some moral advice today. Since Lord Mandelbrot is too generous a beneficiary of the taxpayer's money to be considered a scrounger or a shirker, the minister and hurriedly-former ally recommended a voluntary refund of the payment he received as a reward for being sacked. Others are going further and calling for the resignation of the CEO of Team Starmer and even of the prime minister, Morgan McSweeney; but the Minister for Poverty and Workfare balks at such rashness. The idea of penalising a government functionary for being a serial crook is dangerous enough; but the idea of resignation on grounds of incompetence is well beyond the boundaries of the moderate and sensible.

Leaden from the Front

As is well known in moderate circles, one of the more sensible and sustainable ways of helping a national economy is to cut back on fripperies like public health. Accordingly, in the Kingdom of the Trumpster and his head-tribble the representatives of the real people have voted to cut spending on replacement of lead drinking-water pipes. Some have protested that any savings will be more than wiped out by the cost of the impact on health, as if the Trumpster and his head-tribble would allow anyone but the little people to incur expenses of that kind. Lead poisoning lowers children's intelligence, stunts development and causes higher blood pressure in adults; so from the electoral-religious point of view the policy is all advantage.

Don't Collide Your Bosons Before Counting Your Beans

With bluff British practicality very much to the fore, His Majesty's Government has extended the political establishment's brain drain to the less fiscally sustainable industry of scientific research. No country that holds education in such casual contempt as the United Kingdom can afford to care very much about science, and successive administrations have shown understandable wariness towards a discipline that concerns itself at best with mere facts, and at worst with expensive technologies that have little or nothing to do with either profitable population control at home or profitable wog-bombing abroad. Despite this self-evident common sense, young scientists are actively and perversely seeking to turn themselves into migrants among the Heathen Chinee or, worse yet, among the beastly Euro-wogs, rather than remaining to participate in the coming paradise of salesmen, soldiers and shelf-stackers.

Economical with the Climate

Given that His Majesty's Government has previously pledged more help for poorer countries in dealing with the climate catastrophe, it will come as no surprise that Team Starmer is once more rowing back on the green crap even though the Trumpster and his head-tribble have done the same. Having promised to help triple climate-related finance to the global plebs, our nation of plucky little pragmatists now plans a real-terms cut of some forty per cent. Doubtless the money saved will find a worthier use, whether in augmenting Palantir's incentives to improve the NHS or in providing appropriate bonuses for hard-working water company executives. True, Britain's security services have warned that the consequences of ecological collapse may not be entirely confined to the lesser breeds; but patriots of the Team Starmer calibre can hardly be expected to fall in with such flag-folding pessimism as that.

Fratelli d'empietà

Church authorities in Rome have ordered the decapitation of an angel in a fresco after an amateur restorer made it look like Giorgia Meloni. The worldly visage was scraped off overnight, and the Church has steered refreshingly clear of any pieties about not wishing to be associated with fascism, demagoguery or the "politics of division." Instead, the local cardinal proclaimed that sacred images should not be inappropriately exploited while their copyright belongs to Vatican Incorporated; while the parish priest complained that the rabble had come to view the icon rather than for the magical chunterings, like people attending a Nuremberg Rally for the torchlight instead of the speeches.

Unreliable Partners

Just when it seemed that the beastly Euro-wogs might be prepared to make themselves worthy of wog-bombing alongside the mainland, a potential crisis of conscience has been precipitated by the perfidious French. An investigating magistrate has summonsed two people over alleged attempts to hinder the delivery of humanitarian aid during the recent pacification of the Palestinian Untermenschen; one of the pair belongs to a group which even the Biden administration found too violent and extremist, although the Trumpster and his head-tribble have lifted the sanctions that were imposed. All this will gall the lily-white conscience of the CEO of Team Starmer; partly because it once again implies that some sort of choice must be made between partnership with the beastly foreigners and servitude to the kingdom of the Trumpster, but mostly because it also implies that activities on behalf of the Righteous State may be considered potentially criminal, rather than merely morally unacceptable enough to do absolutely nothing about.

Oh, Mandy

A shocking business, this:
Who ever would have thought,
With previous like his,
That Mandy could be bought?

He'd leg-hump the rich set
To statesmanlike degree;
Who could have known he'd get
Into bad company?

'Tis conduct far below
The standard we'd expected
Of anyone we know
From office thrice ejected.

Greer C Palmer

Life Goes On

Regardless of the unfortunate events in Minnesota, shootings at the other end of the Kingdom of the Trumpster seem to be proceeding much as usual. An attack on a Mardi Gras parade in Louisiana bore none of the virtues that distinguish your average fortnightly ICE assassination: none of the victims has died, video evidence is apparently to be considered evidence, and the Trumpster's local goon has branded the whole business horrific and unacceptable. In an equally routine and reassuring development, the said goon also urged thoughts and prayers as a cheap and convenient alternative to public health and gun control.

Entente Contraire

Having previously flounced out of negotiations and blamed the beastly French, Team Starmer may now condescend to give the Euro-wogs another chance at agreeing a collective wog-bombing agenda. Recent eructations by the Trumpster and his head-tribble may have concentrated minds on the Continent, although on the mainland His Majesty's Government remains decisively opposed to excessive independence from Washington. Talks broke down in November, apparently because the master race once again wanted to be in the club without paying the membership fee; other factors may also have been involved, although it remains as yet unclear whether recent British triumphs of military planning were among them.