Economic denialism, Brexit predictability and the steaming hypocrisy of Jo Swinson the Illiberal Demagogue are not remotely funny. When Saturday Comes, chaps and girlies need to take respite in something incorrectly amusing. Today’s victims of The Slog’s casual hate speech include Stella Creasy and her mum, Leftist dynasties, French hunters, Owen Jones and Whales off Wales.
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There are some wonderful identities/avatars on Twitter – in the sense of being hernia-inducingly funny, witty and wise. What’s also noticeable is that they are neither ideologues nor arseholes. There’s one chap called, ‘No, not me – I think that’s Spartacus over there’ (cracks me up every time I see it) and another one called simply ‘cj’, after the infamously pompous boss from the Reggie Perrin books/scripts of dear old David Nobbs.
One is also greatly reassured by finding folks who can deconstruct ‘expert’ idiots with minimal use of prose. One such (whose politics I probably don’t share, but then so what?) is Paul Embery:
This is so on the money when it comes to the unconscious irony (UI) of braindead catechists: it sums up what Twitter should be about (show not tell) as opposed to soundbite drivel, which is what it is most of the time – that is, a sort of digital version of dreary slogans on 1970s demo-marches.
Embery’s observation inspired me to take a more detailed look at Creasey’s background. It paid dividends, and suggested to me that UI is probably genetic. This is a quote from Stella’s mum:
“My parents were very aristocratic, and I was enormously privileged, and this contributed to my decision to join the Labour Party.”
Ah yes….ultimately, home is where the heart is. Given the generations of Kinnocks, Dunwoodys, Benns, Straws and Prescotts whose children are far too often heard as well as seen, that fine old leg up from the playing field Levellers is just as petrified in Labour’s ranks as the existence of Earyerz* from Eton in the Conservative fold.
The true irony here, however, is surely that Labour’s once indelible distaste for promotion by genes has been proved correct in its own Party: Stephen Kinnock and Hillary Benn are, clearly, archetypal examples of inbred pc mediocrity.
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Tis the season of fecundity down here in Aquitaine. Following the example of Jesus of Islington, ah been jammin’ an’ shit, innit? That is to say, converting fruit gluts into sugary Vitamin C for spreading onto hot toast of a dreary winter’s morning. Blackberry, Fig and Damson jam have been produced.
The local males in my corner of the world have returned to the hunting of wildlife. It’s as well to hide behind the sofa while they’re at it, as their identification of targets does not always bear close examination.
Last week, one hunter to the north of here mistook a motorised vehicle for a hare, and peppered it with 99 lead pellets. The driver (later investigation proved) did not have elongated back legs; the local gendarmerie declared him “fortunate to escape with his life” – but oddly, the chasseur escaped with not so much as a caution.
I suppose that if a majority of voters are able to identify President Macron as “a centrist”, anything is possible. But one can’t help feeling that some kind of basic ophthalmological test might be in order for wannabe Ernest Hemingways who can’t tell a camion from a cat.
Staying with politics, Jacques Chirac died earlier this week. I can confirm that his death was nothing to do with him being mistaken for a wild boar. I must also admit that his death came as a surprise to me, as I was labouring under the belief that he’d been dead for years. The French media went into mourning overdrive, and the French population went into work as usual.
Work as usual under Macron the moderniser involves a great deal of truculence. My local fire station here proclaims “Fireman are angry”, and French police have been taking to the streets to protest, claiming their morale is at rock bottom due to a culture of long working hours, the threat of pension cuts, and the onerous kick-boxing lessons required if they are to continue beating the living daylights out of Gilets Jaunes. It can only be a matter of time before GJ marchers meet up with manifesting gendarmes, and decide to have a kick-about in the manner of French and German soldiers in 1915.
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You may think the term Northern Bottlenose to be a reference to Owen Jones, and if so I would understand why: his nose does indeed resemble the neck of an Ozzie stubby beer bottle, he talks a good game of fact-free rubbish, and he really does go on and on and on. “Eternity is very long,” Woody Allen once remarked, “especially towards the end.” The collective term for the many Owen Joneses would surely have to be ‘an eternity’. One minute he’s a poor victim beaten to a pulp by a feather duster, the next he’s Olga Jonasovich the Soviet tank commander smashing the Nazis, and later still he might be cheeky Owenetta the mincing Manc-Imp or Jones the Twattering tweeter inviting everyone to an empty theatre.
However, the northern bottlenose is in fact a rare kind of whale. One of this species has been spotted off the Welsh coast – near to Black Rock sands, a beach I remember well from caravan holidays as a kid. The lady who took a shot of the whale put it like this:
“He’s also been seen near Porthmadog too, so there must be something seriously wrong with him”
I think this an unpardonable slur on the thriving tourist town of Porthmadog. Fair enough, of a Saturday night these days it is a bit of a warzone of punches and vomit, but the best pub there serves draught Dragon lager, which is not a bad drop. Russell Grant and Boy George live nearby, although Owen Jones doesn’t, probably because he is ever-keen to be the only gay in the village, fighting a lone and valiant battle against the local Stürm Abteilung Hitler bitches.
There was a joke once upon a time about a bestial paedophile who came from Gwynedd. When questioned by a local magistrate as to the reason for his propensities, the man said, “I’d just as well be ‘ung for a lamb as a sheep see, isn’ it?”
Right. I’m off to the local for a half of Meteor. Back later, or not. It depends.
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* Scientists concluded many years ago that upmarket English males do not say “Yes”. They utter the more obscure word, ‘Earyrez’, interspersed with others. Cocktail party conversations often go like this:
Sloane1: I see that old Harley-Streate kicked the bucket…
Sloane2: Earyrez
S1: He was highly decorated, you know….
S2: Rarely?
S1: No….quite often actually. Rum sort of behaviah, going around covered in flowery wallpaper….
S2: Earyrez….ah….Earyrez….most ‘musing. Ha. Earyrez. Quite.
Sign in a bookshop window in Cornwall ..
“Please Note :
The post-apocalyptical fiction section has been moved to current affairs”
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What is needed to get us out of the EU is a government of National Unity (GNU) lead by Nigel Farage with Alison Fletch in charge of the blackberry harvest and John Ward as Minister for jam production.
I’ve got a feeling that we are coming out on the 31st. Not because Boris said so but because Juncker has had enough. Also, the German industrial leaders must be putting pressure on Angela Merkle to get it sorted. They want to continue selling their cars and everything else to us.
We voted to leave, let’s just leave.
Robin.
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Marc 8023 https://lawyersforbritain.org/brexit-legal-guide/eu-law-and-the-ecj/eu-law-the-ecj-and-primacy-over-national-laws?fbclid=IwAR3bhCF3Ue1J8HcxitZtufK0DOUnee4-cF_J1QCXOo
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Derak Reynolds. The video is basic, and the guy does not really have a FULL grasp of analysis on the Brexit Situation. . Martin Howe QC is a more reliable source of information than MSM or Utube Pundits. EU Law ACTUALLY trumps UK law. Bercow has even said so in Parliament. With this in mind, we Leave 31st October with No Deal. Please do your homework as this is what WILL ACTUALLY happen on 31st October. Check Mate EU we are using YOUR law AGAINST you!!!. https://lawyersforbritain.org/brexit-legal-guide/eu-law-and-the-ecj/eu-law-the-ecj-and-primacy-over-national-laws?fbclid=IwAR3bhCF3Ue1J8HcxitZtufK0DOUnee4-cF_J1QCXOo6_Qm66i-NeYwi0f4s
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@alison
“No wonder a dog is a man’s best friend”.
True, but he likes a little pussy now and again. ;-)
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Call me old Mr. Judgemental if you will, but I cannot help thinking that the Literal Democrazis would thoroughly approve of this latest piece of nonsense:
‘Dr. David Mackereth was fired from his job at the Department for Work and Pensions (DWP) after telling his manager that in a hypothetical scenario, he would never “call any 6-foot tall bearded man madam.”
The case was brought before a Birmingham employment tribunal, which said in its ruling that the government department had every right to sack Mackereth, and that the doctor’s biblical beliefs have no place in British society.’
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According to the article below, Boris does not have to comply with the Ben act and be forced to impliment a delay if there is “no deal” by the deadline. However, the article goes on to say that: Despite what Boris said about prefering to “lie in a ditch” he will impliment a further delay.
https://www.express.co.uk/news/politics/1186504/BBC-news-Laura-Kuenssberg-Brexit-latest-Benn-Act-loophole-EU
Hope you enjoyed your Meteors…
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Somewhat off topic…I’ll not fall out with you if don’t post it.
IMHOP it is worth a watch as it blows extinction rebellion claims out of the water.
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Confuse – or ?
You decide:
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I really must seek out these amusing Twitter souls. Haven’t found many so far in my short Twitter life. But what difference does Twitter make anyway? Just because the Donald is on it, doesn’t make it powerful does it? Just like gossiping in a pub is interesting but does it change anything? Actually, if it influences behaviour, maybe it does….
The Radio though is good for light relief. The Radio 4 BBC News reader just now seemingly kept a straight face when pronouncing something about guide dogs in Ireland not being able to cross the border in the event of a ‘No Deal Brexit’. That caused a chuckle in my kitchen, anyway.
Being a non serious day (Saturday) I went out to pick blackberries ready for the harsh winter we’ve been promised is coming by the MSM only to find the local rugby club were taking on the Irish (London lot). So I joined the locals standing on the golf course to watch for a bit as they warmed up (so far so good) then kicked off (not so good). Let’s just say, their karaoke and dancing I’d witnessed in the pub was of a higher standard. And less painful to watch.
On Twitter, I asked again what was the Brexit Party policy on pensions but didn’t hear anything. A SDP lady kindly replied they didn’t have a policy as it was ‘a complex issue’ and they had a conference next Jan so if I wanted to write a policy I could send it to her.
We just want to be free to make what we want of our lives with a Govt we can rely upon that keeps us safe, warm and well fed. Bit like a dog wants to know it can trust its master.
No wonder a dog is a man’s best friend.
.
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https://www.express.co.uk/news/politics/1186546/Brexit-news-lady-hale-boris-johnson-baroness-hale-brexit-supreme-court
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“a tine hice in Kinty Dine”
Thankyou , Thank you Thank you. I needed that.
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Another domino ready to fall
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OT – but what did you make of this gem from last night….
A senior Downing Street source said: “The government will comply with the Benn Act, which only imposes a very specific narrow duty concerning Parliament’s letter requesting a delay – drafted by an unknown subset of MPs and pro-EU campaigners – and which can be interpreted in different ways.
“But the government is not prevented by the Act from doing other things that cause no delay, including other communications, private and public.
“People will have to wait to see how this is reconciled. The government is making its true position on delay known privately in Europe and this will become public soon.”
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Very good question. I am confused. JW
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I remember looking for a flat in central London (in the days when such things could be afforded by mere mortals) and the horsey young woman at the estate agent recommended I tried “Slane Squeh”.
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Hi JW
Back to your usual informative and entertaining style.
If you ever get back to that part of the world, i recommend a stay at the Celtic Royal Hotel in Caenarfon then do the Welsh Triangle. or Square
On the Ffestiniog and Welsh Highland Railway
festrail.co.uk
Caenarfon to Portmadog Then;
Portmadog to Ffestiniog Then;
Ffestiniog to Landudno Junction and on to Bangor via British Rail and Bus to Caenenarfon.
You can do it in a day, or be adventurous and do it over three days and spend Saturday night in Portmadog, before heading to Llandudno via Ffestiniog and do the mountain railway up the Orme.
I hope that as stirred a few memories.
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Earyes . . . Years ago I helped supply and set up audio equipment for horse shows and trials. One particular customer spoke with such an exagerrated plumb in the mouth, that when calling a riders number over the tannoy would pronounce 5, as “foirve”. It’s even difficult to write how it sounded. Almost alien.
OT: Just watched ‘Terminator Genisys’ (another Scwarzenneger mishap), and was struck just how close the ‘Skynet’ program came to the 5G roll out and the ‘internet of things’. It’s coming, and needs to be stopped.
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In the early 1970s, J Walter Thompson in Berekely Square was an end to end Sloaney wah-wah agency. I once had an Irish artistocrat tell me he had “a tine hice in Kinty Dine”. JW
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Thanks John made me laugh . Have a good weekend.
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