Saturday, 29 December 2007

What, Nothing For Alastair Campbell And Geoffrey Hoon In The New Year Honours List?

I see Tom Kelly, erstwhile 10 Downing Street Spokesman, and now a Group Director of Public Affairs for BAA, (so would that be BBC, Civil Service and BAA final salary pensions?) has been given the Order of the Bath. For the benefit of any American readers, this is not, alas, a British version of waterboarding but an honour bestowed on worthy people by Her Majesty on the advice of our courageous Prime Minister. Mr Kelly had plenty of form as a particularly nice human being when he worked for the Government. It was Tom Kelly who described Dr David Kelly as a "Walter Mitty" type character, despite Dr Kelly being a world-respected expert. But Tom Kelly apologised after Dr Kelly's death so everything's ok. I am surprised that Alastair Campbell and the Rt Hon Geoffrey Hoon, MP, PC have not received similar grateful thanks from the nation for their part in saving the Rt Hon Anthony Charles Lynton Blair, PC.

In the company of such moral giants, I would rather wear my gold tooth (see previous post on where it reappeared) around my neck with pride than accept a gong from this shower. But that is because I cannot sleep at night when I remember some of the things I was ordered to do to people (all using entirely legal and proper means to undertake government policy) in the course of my Civil Service career.

Friday, 28 December 2007

The Islamist Answer To Everything, Apparently

It seems that if you can't win an argument with violence then more violence is the only option.

When will the West realise that Islam cannot be democratized any more than fundamentalist Christianity or ultra-orthodox Judaism are safe outside without a muzzle? Only when secular rationalism puts the individual's life foremost does the average person have a chance. Would you prefer to be governed by man-made laws or old writings of iron age desert nomads?

Friday, 21 December 2007

A Christmas Thought

Despite being plagued by the worst government since the Jurassic Period, despite the weather this year having been punctuated by periods of heavy rain, despite foreigners being more than usually troublesome and unreasonable, despite the continuing moronity of fundamentalist religion of all creeds driving the world to oblivion, I sit back and consider that Rudyard Kipling (or was it Cecil Rhodes?) was absolutely right when he said that "To be born an Englishman is to win first prize in the lottery of life." So Merry Christmas* and A Happy New Year to All. And Three Cheers for Her Majesty The Queen.

* There is no hypocrisy in an humanist enjoying a pagan festival btw

Tuesday, 18 December 2007

Suddenly Gordon Brown isn't that bad but read on to find out why

A week or so ago, I went to the dentist for my 6 month check-up. No problem, no need for even a scrape and polish. Three days later my lower jaw feels different. I examine it carefully with my tongue and then look in the mirror with mouth agape. My gansta gold crown was missing. Now, I'm not a fan of rap music and the only reason I had gold instead of porcelain was because, counter-intuitively, it was cheaper. But it still cost a lot and I'm not that wealthy. So I decided to pan for gold. Trouble was my brain shared this plan with my bottom and my sphincter puckered up like a whale's on the sea bed. I expect it's the same with astronauts. However, after three days things eased and I presented myself with two chorizos to investigate. I will digress to thank evolution for switching off the gagging reflex for a quarter of an hour when smelling one's poo. Anyway, despite a methodical fingertip search no result. The next day I decided to listen out for a metallic chink on the loo bowl, rather like after on has eaten game (lead shot) but no luck. Since then, I've listened out to no avail. I reckon that I've either missed the goldrush or the crown is still in my stomach. If so, it might turn into the core of a lump of human ambergris (apparently worth more than gold). I think I ought to borrow a metal detector to confirm matters. Whatever, I am daily losing the urge to have the crown back in my mouth. When once I was keen to prod and sieve, now I am just going through the motions.
But how on earth did LibDim Mark Oaten MP allegedly ever find this subject and practice sexy?

Update 27 December: There's gold in that thar pan! There appeared a glistering crown-shaped nugget this morning in the loo bowl. I've cleaned and sterilized it and will be booking a dental appointment in the New Year for a reattachment.

Tuesday, 4 December 2007

Jack Dromey

I gather from today's Times that Mr Jack Dromey was promised a safe seat in the event of a snap November election. Did anyone tell him? Rather than the Labour Party Treasurer, Jack Dromey sounds more like an unserviceable central heating boiler part, as in " There's your problem, you've got a jack dromey, have to be ordered , so I'm off down the plumber's merchants." (Strictly speaking that should read something like "Tu jest twój problem , masz dostał pewien marynarz dromey , ma być zleceniodawca , so Jestem od w dół ten monter kupiec." but accuracy is often the enemy of humour. Unless you speak Polish and English in which case you will tell me a la Romani Ite Domum that it is wrong. (niepoprawny)

And he does not look like Andy Hamilton, Phil Mitchell or Eeyore.

Monday, 3 December 2007

A Modest Proposal For Party Funding

There is no need for public funding of political parties. Instead, sitting MPs and parliamentary candidates should be required to raise their election funds by generating profits from running a whelk stall. This would have two advantages: no cost to the public purse and an elegant weeding-out of those unsuited because of lack of common sense for a responsible role in parliamentary life.
As an experiment, a "reality television" series titled "Can they Run A Whelk Stall" could be made with the inevitable Ann Widdecombe MP for starters (a thought that puts me off whelks, let alone oysters).
On the topic of "reality TV", I have had no interest as of yet from the terrestrial channels for my pilot show "Celebrity Bomb Disposal" in which several celebrities (or spares) receive a day's training and then render safe an Iranian IED or WW2 sea mine. Great telly!