I have left the "Hostages" to their fate: I tried, dammit, I tried! I knew it was an absurdity from the very beginning - the family of a famous surgeon in Washington held hostage so that she can kill the president as she conducts some minor surgery on him. As far as I can tell there is not just a double-cross in this higgledy-piggledy story, there are a series of multi-crosses and I have now run out of fingers to count them all! Pity, because I was really hoping the tread-head kids 'would get what was coming' because I loathed them so much. In fact, now I think about it, the body count is amazingly low, just one nurse so far. Ah well, now I will never know.
But I am persevering with "True Detective": Even though the dialogue remains impenetrable! Not only is it muttered through barely opened mouths in a deep southern drawl, but also the Matthew McConaughey character is given screeds of cod-philosophy-psychology nonsense to drone out at length. Why do I watch it? Two reasons, really. First, I am fascinated - and repelled - by the Gulf shoreline scenery of Louisana which might actually be improved by a nuclear bomb or three! Then there is the cover story - that is, the story of the murder that is being investigated took place some years previously but now the two investigators are themselves being investigated but it is not yet clear why, so we flash back and forth in time. We shall see.
By the little things shall you know them: Yes, yes, of course, I know you all suspected some time ago that 'Dim Dave' was, er, dim but sometimes in this busy-busy world we need a reminder - a confirmation, perhaps - just so we do not forget. Here you have it:
A carefully posed 'selfie' taken by our Prime Minister whilst allegedly 'talking' to the President of the United States. Actually, it looks as though 'Boring Barack' is doing the talking and 'Dave' is doing the listening and here, at least, he has my sympathy because were the POTUS to bid me 'Good day' I suspect I would be asleep by the second word! That 'Dave' was dim enough to release this laughable image, which has since become a global joke, is all you need to have your worst fears concerning his lack of intelligence confirmed in spades. However, I would like to take advantage of his dimwittery by offering you all a competition. I want you all to imagine a cartoon-style bubble coming out of his mouth and for you to write in it what 'Dim Dave' is actually thinking or is about to say. I will begin with this:
"Barack - who? No, no, I already have an immigrant servant but thank you for calling."
Make her Prime Minister: I have only just met this lady but she can give me a beauty treatment any time she likes, oh, and she can also run the country as far as I am concerned.
She is, of course, the very attractive Miss Gemma Worrall, a beautician from Blackpool where, I suspect, her services are much in need! However, this lady has just 'enjoyed' her five minutes of fame, although I admit that it passed me by until I read Fraser Nelson's piece over at The Coffee House. Apparently, the lovely Miss Worrall took to Twitter and offered this keen geo-political insight:
"Why is our president Barraco Barner getting involved with Russia, scary."
Why, indeed? And, yes, it is "scary", not just for its potential but for the fact that "Barroco Barner" is stupid enough to go swaggering into someone else's backyard on the other side of the world from his and start laying down the law. As Mr. Nelson emphasises in his gallant defence of the gorgeous Miss Worrall, it is an excellent thing that she obviously pays no attention to her own or anyone else's political leaders because it is only in totalitarian states that it is necessary to parse the language of 'The Dear Leader' carefully in order to survive. Happily in this country, and so far in America, too, it is only necessary to shout "Show us your willy!" once every four years and in between we can forget about them - er, well, except for boring old bloggers like me! Anyway, I wonder how I would look after a beauty treatment - no, don't tell me!
The first woman POTUS: This piece by Matthew Continetti at The National Review had me sniggering contentedly. It is impossible to paraphrase so I will give you the essence and leave you to read it all. He begins by expressing his huge disappointment that despite the promise of 'HillBilly' and 'MDS' (My Darling Sarah) back in the run-up to the election of 2008, the USA did not get a woman president - but then he thinks again:
Only now do I see how mistaken I have been, how shallow my thinking, how guilty of succumbing to the confines of the hetero-normative imagination. If Bill Clinton “displays almost every trope of blackness: single-parent household, born poor, working-class, saxophone playing, McDonald’s-and-junk-food-loving boy from Arkansas,” and for that reason could be named by a Nobel laureate as “our first black President,” “blacker than any actual black person who could ever be elected in our children’s lifetime”; if Barack Obama “had to come out of a different closet,” had to learn “to be black the way gays learn to be gay,” if his “discovery in adulthood of a community not like your own home and the struggle to belong in both places, without displacement, without alienation” mirrors “the gay experience,” making him “the first gay president”; and if his positions on Israel make him, in the words of a former employee, “the first Jewish president,” then our ascription of gender identity need not be based on chromosomes or sexual characteristics, on hair style or costume, on self-identification, on arbitrary and socially constructed discourses of macho and feminine. It is clear to me now that we have had a woman president since January 20, 2009. Barack Obama’s story is America’s story. It is our story. It is the female story. [My emphasis]
Lest we forget, MDA provides a timely reminder: Yes, indeed, 'My Darling Ann' (Coulter) provides a brief history, not of the ups and downs of Democrat presidents, but of their more frequent downs and downs and even further downs! The potted version might read:
JFK and how Kruschev smacked his bottom
LBJ and Vietnam - say no more!
Carter and Iran - and still we live with the consequences.
Clinton and the many missed chances to hit OBL - what kept him so busy?!
Obama and, well, almost everything really but especially Iraq.
But do read the whole thing, no one does acid better than MDA!
Phony pomp & circumstance: I don't know why so many little things irritate me these days, perhaps it's just getting old does it. I have just watched on television England play Wales at rugby and I am reliably informed that we won although, as I cannot make head nor tail of the great piles of heads and tails to be seen in a game of rugby, I must take it on trust. However, what I did see before the match began was a sort of opéra bouffe, or perhaps a sort of cut-price version of a Wagner extravaganza. Anthems were sung - at least I assume they were anthems because, of course, I had the sound off - by pretty ladies and the mouth-breathing giants all hugged each other as they sung along with tears in their eyes. There were giant flags of the two nations guarded by soldiers and at appropriate moments a couple of somewhat pathetic flame-flares went off in an example of premature ejaculation. Needless to say, sundry 'likkle-kiddie-winkies' were brought on as well. The whole thing was like a cut-price version of some South American dictator celebrating his inaugeration. Perfectly ghastly!
Let's hear it for the 'Bus-Pass Elvis Party': Oh, yes, the BPEP are deserving of your support at the next election. Not only did they beat the il-Lib-non-Dems into fifth and bottom place in a recent council election in Nottingham, but also their leader, Elvis fan, David Laurence Bishop (aka 'Lord Biro'), has proposed that brothels be made legal and old-age pensioners be given a 30% discount! What's not to like? I am obliged to the Metro site.
The best prog on the BBC: Well, next to 'Line of Duty', that is, is CountryFile. It takes me effortlessly into the wonderful world of the countryside. Yes, I know I live in it now but I don't understand any of it and that, frankly, makes me very uneasy. All those cows and crops, sheep and shit, fertiliser and fornication [That's enough alliteration: Ed!] is all a mystery to me, but CountryFile explains it so well and sets me at ease. Now I can drive by a field full of sheep and nod wisely and, no, I don't know why I am nodding but it make me feel better about myself! Actually, I sense that my nodding on this occasion is due to the jug of dry martini the Memsahib mixed for me prior to dinner tonight and so before I write any further nonsense I think I should call it a day!
No more rumbles today.