mesmile2 In a varietal Party Bag tonight, we feature Theresa May at the corner flag of the Brexit Cup replay, cultural appropriation of the negro evangelist spiritual genre, the House of Commons’s mass penis extension, incompetent experts, and the bizarre respect so many people seem to have for economists and health professionals who are consistent only in their ability to disagree with each other, and change their minds. 

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Hey sinner May

where yer gonna run to?

Hey sinner May

where yer gonna run to?

Hey sinner May

where yer gonna run to?

all on that day….

Run off to Juncker

Juncker was a-drinkin’

Run off to Juncker

don’t do none o’ dat t’inkin’

all on that day….

Run to Varadkar

Gay boy was a-gigglin’

Run to Varadkar

Gay boy was a-wrigglin’

all on that day….

Hey sinner May

where yer gonna run to

Hey sinner May

where yer gonna run to

Hey sinner May

50 days to get through

until that day.

Hide in the loo

dey gonna break dat door down

hide in the loo

you lettin’ all de side down

doin’ a poo

ain’t no excuse in dis town

all on that day…..

a note from yer mum

dey goin’ to see through it

note from yer mum

dey gonna tell you “Screw it”

you gonna have to come

to de Commons an’ go through it

all on that day…..

Hey sinner May

no more of yer fudgin’

Hey sinner May

ain’t nobody budgin’

every which way

we gonna be a-judgin’

all on that day…..

Dat sinner Green

one of new distractions,

what comin’ next – 

Meghan’s first contractions?

Horse flu bombshell –

no more racin’ action

all on that day….

Hey sinner May

Next speech it get more distant 

on Valentine’s Day

her hubby is insistent

he want his wicked way

so no MPs will dissent

not on that day…..

Feb Twenty-Eight

de new date dat’s what I hear

better never than late

is what de Leavers all fear

Remainers dey state:

“Thank fuck it not a leap year”

all on that day…..

I hope you all enjoyed that. I suspect that, as a model of racist, homophobic and culturally appropriated Little Englander doggerel, it is without equal.

I love the sheer, surreal insanity of “cultural appropriation”. It is the only term developed during my lifetime that’s up there with the Nazis referring to their Japanese allies as “honorary Aryans” after 1941.

I have for some time now harboured the desire to go up to a large group of minority ethnics and tell them to remove their clothing, all of which was culturally appropriated from Caucasians. I  would in turn enjoy the experience of approaching an Islamic woman in full jihab and burqa to congratulate her on being loyal to her cultural roots, in the sense of still living in a tent.

I wouldn’t do either of those things, because I fully recognise that personal gratification alone is no basis for the creation of a successful society at peace with itself. However, there are Neoliberals, Stalinists, Jihadists and feminists in our midst who wish not for peace, but for subjugation of the majority to their crackpot, anti-empirical belief systems.

Oddly enough, they are all cleaving to the protection of the European Commission at the minute.

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It’s becoming increasingly obvious that the Prime Minister is not so much winding down the clock to March 29th as filling up her days prior to begging for an extension.

I first reached that conclusion four days ago, and I see no reason as yet to change my mind, given that all the road-ahead alternatives have been bombed to shit save one:

  • No Deal is off the table, because 80+% of MPs will vote against it
  • The EU has made it brutally clear that it will not give May any deal at all that the UK Parliament will sign up to.
  • The majority of the British, EU and NATO élites will favour the can-kicking option as preferable to either (a) clean Brexit or (b) a No Deal Brexit.
  • A clear majority of MPs will support the extension of Article 50.
  • Theresa May will keep on dribbling the ball around the corner flag until the final whistle.

It’s what Leni Riefenstahl might have called The Triumph of the Will. Were she still alive today, no doubt the ghastly old Nazi ratbag would’ve approved: her Fourth Reich dream is still alive: unser geliebter Führer lebt noch, nicht?

It is impossible for me to convey quite how much I’d love to be wrong about this. I just can’t see either the guts and ethics of MPs – or the ire of the British People – intervening to stop the march to Limboland and, in the space of four weeks after the next meaningless vote, pushing through what Brexit ultimately means: We are leaving, deal or no deal.

Brussels and its myriad allies have effectively slammed the exit door in the face of the British electorate by collaborating with some 520 odd MPs. Worse than that, only a minute élite (of probably no more than 3,500 people in total) have guaranteed the unconstitutional frustration of 17.5 million people. The 48% who marched a lot dressed up in their slush-fund-paid-for silly Soros hats and cloaks? Forget it: they had no effect – or certainly, no enduring influence and, most importantly, no case.

The view they put forward was beyond laughable: Leavers lied (everybody lied, as with every election in history), ‘people’ didn’t know what they were voting for (they rarely do in any election), a second referendum would give a different result (almost every poll shows it wouldn’t), young people were underrepresented (history is made by those who turn up) and it was “too complex a subject for a referendum” (then the sovereign power shouldn’t have approved it by such a margin).

Die-hard Remainers are the exact UK analogy of poor-loser Democrats who don’t “recognise” Trump as their President. Conspicuous by their silence while they expected to win, full of limp, whining unreason when they lost: ‘Hillary won the popular vote’ (US Presidential elections are decided by Electoral College votes) ‘the Republicans stuffed ballots’ (so did the Democrats) ‘Russia colluded with Trump’ (the FBI has spent over two years not finding any substantive evidence of that whatsoever) and ‘Trump is a sex-pest’ (so was Kennedy).

“Only the bad people voted Leave” is the ludicrous British Left’s equivalent of “Only the dumb underclass voted for Trump” line from Democrats in the US. The attitude betrays (more than any answer to a straight question ever would) just how gross a bunch of intellectual neo-fascist snobs they all are. “We know better” is their mantra. Just like the Comintern, the Politburo, and the Ministry of Truth.

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The only other cultural group that is their equal at saying “We know best” (and then demonstrating clearly they don’t) is the medical profession.

For some reason, I revitalised my mission to shut medical opinion up after watching a round table Sky News discussion about Brexit durig the week. The Labour MP present, in describing a No Deal departure from the EU, used the words “crashing out” nine times in under eleven minutes. 

I urge you to visit the Spiked podcast on that subject as an antidote to braindead catechism and sociopathic exaggeration.

What liberals and medics have in common above any other single factor is their indefatigable desire to turn an empirical research result open to various interpretations into an indisputable fact – often described as settled science. As long as we are (allegedly) one minute planet on the southwestern swirl of one tiny constellation, there will be no such thing as settled science, political correctness, the end of history, global warming or any other imagined certainty that so typifies the incipient megalomania of our lamentable species.

Thus, the “scientific” economic certainty of Britain crashing into oblivion after a No Deal Brexit is today’s equivalent of “doing under fifteen minutes of exercise a day achieves no improvement in fitness” in the 1980s – during that epoch when we were all busy pounding round London’s streets in a bid to live forever. Nearly forty years on, the NHS has a waiting list for knee and and ankle injury replacements stretching round the equator.

For twenty years I was married into a medical family. A person whom I admire to this day served on a committee to decide the ‘healthy’ level of alcohol consumption for men and women. I shall never forget this quote: “Nobody could agree, so the Chairman made it all up”.

During my lifetime, economists have changed their minds about how productivity increases, the effects of high taxation and mass distribution, advertising investment in brands, the importance of exports, how wealth is created and spread, the effects of globalism, the effectiveness of pricing research, the ideal form of agriculture, the future of light engineering, the role of bourses, and the importance of community balance in retailing.

Labour MPs and Remainer fluffies have an attitude to economists similar to my parent’s view of hospital consultants: they are convinced such people walk on water. Prostrate deference is the only possible mode to adopt when in their presence. Until they operate on your prostate, and make a pigs-ear of it.

We’re in the fairyland of soi-disant experts again, are we not?

IABATO – It’s All Bollocks And That’s Official.

The moral of this meander through contemporary events and my consistent nostalgia for a more natural age is obvious, really. We have to keep on and on and on and on contradicting those people who think and act as follows:

“I’m not listening to you, because I know, and you dont“.

I wish you all a very good Saturday night out free from narcissists, ideologues, colonists, proctologists and onanists.