Creating a no-fly Zone

meglycinessnipCan you imagine any all-woman electoral run-off that could annoy the crap out of every radical feminist in Britain? Well, now we’ve got one: Theresa Maniac v Andrea Leadshot. The poor old Left doesn’t know which one they’d most like to hate. And even having decided, they don’t know whether that’ll be the easier opponent to take on in 2020: which one, they wonder, will wound up stuck on her own fly-paper?



I want to go the Liberal Conspiracy and Red Rag sites immediately and post something like “which one of these two do you lesbians fancy the most then?” with a poll included for good taste and serious consideration. Not because that reflects what I think might be witty or adult, but because I know it’s pitched at just the right intellectual level of antagonism to stimulate their hate glands.

I’ve always found the term ‘radical feminist’ hysterical anyway. It’s like calling someone ‘a fundamentalist Nazi’ or Jean-Claude Juncker ‘an acoholic lush’. The adjective is superfluous. Sadly, the same is increasingly true of the term ‘Hard Left’.

The Doublebint shortlist must be driving my two Twitter aggressors Red Sky at Night and Finkowska to tears. The second of those two visceral ‘liberal’ nutters got me locked out of Twitter two days ago for ‘abuse’. Here’s a selection of his latest output:




But of course, it was hate-speech by Nigel Farage that got Jo Cox killed. You see, the Left doesn’t DO hate speech. No, of course not.

The LOL irony of all this is that Finkfoultongska went bleeting off to a Kafkaesque mob like Twitter, who locked me out without investigation or defence – because that’s what they always do – run by Jack Dorsey, whose other liberal-leaning job is working with Walt Disney, a solidly Republican company now backing Donald Chump. The harder Left most people are, the more narrow their knowledge base; and the same is true of neoliberals, who I suppose one could call ‘Hardest Right’. Or even Hardly Right. At all. About anything.

It’s fun getting ideologists into a muddle. Be it neolibs and their use of nationalisation when things go wrong, or Left-liberals and their support for Islamists and female genital mutilators, it’s a lazy wind-up artist’s dream. As easy, in fact, as asking a Jihadist what he’d do if one of those 77 Heavenly virgins was his sister. Easy, but unwise.

The world’s fly population having developed an immunity to fly sprays (but the manufacturers and retailers having as yet not got round to telling their customers, as such)  chum Gerard was kind enough to mail me some original sticky fly-paper cartridges to fend off the mass invasion that always follows my neighbours deposit of 20 tons of Cowpoo on the field across the road here.

They are incredibly effective, because sooner or later every fly sticks to them – such that, after a few weeks, the unwound paper column looks like a cross between a ceiling mobile and a mass grave – but their strength is also the problem.

You see, you have to take the top off, extract the sticky tape roll by pulling, and then pin it to something so it can dangle and be seen by flies. Your sole aids to the successful completion of this operation are a thin red cotton loop at the end of the paper, and a drawing pin.

There’s a knack to doing this. There must be, because there’s a knack to doing everything. It’s just that I’ve never discovered it. Somewhere – out there in this big wide world that is nevertheless, they say, surprisingly small – there is The Lost Knack of pinning up fly papers. Find it, and people will beat a path to your door. Even if it does have fly papers stuck all over the inside of it.

These are the fly-paper pinning enigmas I have yet to solve:

  1. How do you pull the paper roll out without the red cotton loop breaking off?
  2. How do you get the fly paper off yourself when it leaves the cotton loop in favour of your arm, hair, ear etc?
  3. How do you stop the drawing pin point from bending when you try to attach it to anything from a window frame to a lump of blutack you got out of a draw because it won’t attach to anything else?
  4. How do you get the blutack out of the draw while struggling with a fly paper stuck to your nose, and one free hand stuck to a mélange of cotton loop and sticky stuff?
  5. How do you get the flypaper you put onto the lampshade with your nose off the lampshade again, ever?

All that being said, one does pick up a few tips along the way:

  1. Don’t use your foot to steady the fly paper while trying to unwrap it from your wrist, especially if you’re wearing espadrilles. Fly sticky and espadrille soles together produce a stronger bond than Superglue.
  2. Don’t hang the fly paper in a position where, having forgotten all about the fly paper, you might turn round suddenly and walk into it. It is incredibly difficult to get fly paper out of your hair once it’s in there. Next time you’re out shopping and you see otherwise stylish people with large, random bald patches, just remember that – daft as they look – it was probably the poor hairdresser’s finest hour.
  3. Having failed miserably to get the fly paper into an ongoing dangling mode – and yet wound up covered in enough adhesive to wallpaper the Elysée Palace – it is unwise to become angry and try again. Better to take a shower in Nitromors, get a good night’s sleep, and then have another go. One day.

Earlier at The Slog: Blair & Campbell move on to Regime Change 2