DUFF & NONSENSE!

The Sunday Rumble: 15.01.20

Hey, schmuks, don't mess with Her Maj!   I haven't read the details - life is short and getting shorter! - but from the commentary it looks as though H&M have been handed their arses on silver salver!  Meghan will not care, she is, after all, a grovelling subject of the Hollywood dynasty - good luck with that one!  Harry will probably feel the self-inflicted wounds as time goes on.  My totally clueless guess is that Meghan's mini-career prospects will gradually wither along with her relationship with Harry and the pair of them will shuffle off into the twilight of obscurity.  I hope I'm wrong, I usually am!

 

With apologies to Matt and the DT:

 

Make Meghan's dad a Duke!   Thomas Markle appears to have more common-sense in the finger he uses to yank open a can of beer than his dippy daughter has in her entire body!  Give him a seat in the House of Lords! 

 

Lord Bercow? Pass the sick bag - quick!   According to reports, 'Jezza' Corbyn, as leader of the opposition, is considering offering Bercow a seat in the Lords.  Presumably he will sit as a Labour peer thus reducing even further the opinion of the dreaded 'Peeps' as to the worthiness of the Labour party.  'Good thinking', Jezza, that should improve your chances at the next election - NOT!

 

Off out for lunch:   Er, with the Memsahib, of course, at The White Post restaurant.  Good grub and superb views across 'Zummerzet'.  Back later . .

 

Sent to me by a friend:  Whose head will surely be chopped off in the Tower!

I'm shocked, I tell you, shocked!

 

More rumbles later . . .

 

 

 

"How long until there are no Jews left in France?"

My shocking - well, I was totally 'gob-smacked'! - title is copied from the heading to an article at The Coffee House by Gavin Mortimer.  

Anti-Semitic attacks in 2018 soared by 74 per cent on the previous year and the figures for the beginning of 2019 have revealed a 78 per cent increase on the same period in 2018.

In 2017 an elderly Jewish lady who had undergone constant verbal assaults from her Muslim neighbours was battered to death by a Muslim man, Kobili Traoré.  The French, er, judicial system, er, sprang into action by showing the killer mercy and NOT charging him for murder:

Last month a court showed compassion to Traoré, declaring that he was ‘criminally irresponsible’ for his actions because he ‘was not aware’ of the adverse effects of regular cannabis smoking.

Yeeeeeeeeeees, quite, si tu le dis, if you say so!  Alfred Dreyfus, you are not forgotten!  

According to Mr. Mortimer:

There are 460,000 Jews left in France, and they desperately need more than just the occasional facile tweet from their president about how ‘Jews are and make France’. It happens after every new anti-Semitic outrage but virtue signalling is of no value.

The truth is that the French establishment is in denial, and has adopted the ‘See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil’ approach. Yet evil there is. As one of the Halimi’s family’s lawyers put it this week, the leniency shown to Sarah’s killer ‘is a warning that society is becoming sick’. If this sickness isn’t treated then there will come a day in the not-too-distant future when there won’t be a Jew left in France.

There is something rotten in the State of France!

 

 

Oh no, 'my darling Jane', say it ain't so

For the first time in what seems like an aeon, the rain stopped and the sun shone so I started the day with a light step.  Well, that didn't last long before it turned into a miserable trudge!  For a start, one of our local pubs has started serving cooked breakfast fry-ups on a Saturday morning. I just 'luuuurve' what I call a 'cookie' made up of fried bread, two eggs, sunny side up, grilled bacon, a tomato and some mushrooms.  So, against all my principles I actually dragged my self out of bed and up to the pub for 9.30 - yes, actually 9.30!  It was awful!  Instead of cooking to order it was all displayed in heated pans and it reminded me of the, er, good ol' days queuing up for grub in the army!

So, not the best of starts but on returning I settled down to read The Mail.  Guess what, more and more and yet more about bloody Meghan Markle and her 'Prince Ginger'!  I thought that once they had buggered off to Canada that would be the end of it. No chance!  So I turned to The Telegraph and my favourite opinion writer MDJ - My Darling Janet (Daley).  She proceeded to, in effect, nut me, kick me in the kneecaps and then stomp on my face with a vicious, withering onslaught against President Trump!

Now, as regular reader will know, I am far from being an ardent fan but then I am rarely an ardent fan of any US President.  Alas, for them, they are under minute, searchlight observation 24/7 and being mere men, of course, their blemishes are soon spotted and with an army of opponents waiting eagerly, they are publicised even faster!  Trump's fault lines are all too apparent but they seem to me to be fairly harmless stemming as they do from his 'yuuuuuuuge' conceit, his inability (or indifference) to understanding how others might view his eccentricities and his constant desire to be always and forever at the centre of attention.  Ms. Daley thinks otherwise!

She maintains that his greatest fault is his wanton, almost childlike, destruction of the 'religion' which guides America - the Declaration of Independence, the words of the founding Fathers and the Constitution.  Alas, The Telegraph will not allow me to 'cut and paste' (or steal, if you prefer!) from Ms. Daley's onslaught, so you need to read it for yourself.  Coming from her, it is well worth it!

ADDITIONAL:

Via Zero Hedge I have just read an opinion by Alan Dershowitz, a man worth listening to especially on legal matters.  In essence, he writes that the Government Accountability Office (GAO) doesn't know the law from the hole in its collective arse and nor, by implication, does MDJ (My Darling Jane) I am sorry to say.  Read the link!

 

 

 

 

 

My grumpy 'belly rumble' below needs support from an expert

Yes, sorry for 'honkin' 'n' hootin' in the post below but that wretched, little crook who rules Russia really gets on my nerves!  Happily I have come across an article by a man who knows where-of he writes, from an organisation that has years of experience in studying Russian affairs.  I give you Mr. Nicolai Petrov from Chatham House.  His assessment of Putin's latest moves are set out clearly and knowledgably and are well worth reading - unlike my rant!  Here is a taster:

While Putin mentioned a popular vote on the constitutional changes (which is not required by law), it is important to note that he didn’t use the term ‘referendum’, which would have mandated that the results be acted upon. Regardless, it is clear that, with no easy foreign policy and military wins in the offing, Putin will seek to boost his legitimacy through a popular vote. The current federal electoral cycle starts next year and will end in 2024 with the presidential election.

So, more of 'the same-old-same-old'!

 

 

'Vlad the Impaler' looks after No.1 - so no change there then!

Anyone who thinks Vlad's game of musical chairs at the top of Russia's hierarchy is anything other than a strengthening of his own personal rule deserves 20 years in a gulag!  And, if the troglodyte people of Russia think that their well-being is at the heart of this upheaval, then they deserve the next 20 years of impoverished misery they will undoubtedly get.  What's the Russian for 'suckers'?

Vlad is, was and forever will be, just another strutting little dictator.  At the tactical level of ensuring that those who operate just below the chain of command are left relatively free to pursue their beloved dollars, he is a brilliant and utterly cynical Machiavelli.  At the same time, the dreaded 'Peeps' are kept just above the starvation level but are sentenced to life in perpetual poverty.  Any signs of unrest or dissatisfaction are smashed - instantly.  Anyone brave and/or stupid enough to raise publically any complaints are dealt with very quickly, very efficiently because they are shot dead - end of!

In the meantime his ramshackle nation struts on, seemingly unaware that its boots are worn out, that its shirt is not tucked in because it cannot actually afford shirts and that the only reason its neighbours reluctantly doff their caps is because it is simply bigger than they are.  How long, oh Lord, how long will it take the Russian 'Peeps' to sick up the patriotic gruel that Vlad feeds them - and spit it back in his smug, murderous face!

 

 

 

How dare Bernie Sanders tell the truth?

According to reports of the Democrat TV hustings yesterday, Bernie Sanders accused 'Fauxcahontas' Warren of being liar.  This was shockin', I tell you, shockin' because nobody expects truths to be told at political hustings!  Of course, 'Fauxcahontas' is a liar, indeed, a serial liar, as Ms. Andrea Widburg points out at The American Thinker listing the following examples:

She lied about being a Native American.
She lied about the circumstances surrounding her parents’ marriage.
She stole a New York Times recipe as her own for a cookbook put out by Native Americans.
She lied about being fired because she was pregnant.
She lies about her father having been a janitor.
She lied that her children never attended private schools.

No doubt in Bernie's long political history he has told a few 'porkies' because, of course, he is a practicing politician.  Even so, 'Fauxcahontas's efforts are 'yuuuuuugely' egregious given that respect to different races is, so to speak, a totem pole before which the Democratic party worships!  The Dems are not up to much these days so I can only hope that in the candidate selection they humiliate that ghastly 'lying-liar' of a woman!

 

 

First France, now Germany!

A couple of days ago I wrote a sympathetic post on the rising discontent in France under the, er, charismatic leadership of mini-Macron.  Today I read in The Telegraph that Germany - you know, the powerhouse of Europe - is experiencing a fairly hefty economic decline!  Smile?  Me?  Absolutely not although I confess to the smallest of sniggers when I recall all those 'wiseacres' who warned that Britain would face economic catastrophe if we pressed ahead with leaving the EU! 

Of course, I do not want to see a Europe in decline.  We need prosperous neighbours and not just for trade relations.  Impoverished countries tend to take to the streets to solve their problems and that, of course, never works.  Mind you, if it drives the British economy to look further than just across the Channel and the North Sea, that could be helpful.  After decades of self-induced subjugation to Brussels, now is the time for Britain to look world-wide.

 

 

My blind OUTLOOK

Alas, my 'Outlook', through which I read and send my e-mails, remains out of order.  'SoD' appears to have gone a.w.o.l. so I have approached the mighty, world-wide organisation known as, er, Milborne Port Computers.  I spoke to a charming lady who sensed after about 0.5 micro seconds that she was dealing with the village idiot.  Even so, she was patient and exceedingly competent and after asking me to click this, click that and click the other she decided to hand the problem over to someone else who will call me later on.

It is quite incredible to me that after years spent before a computer screen in which I repeat endlessly various actions literally without thinking but when asked to describe them, what passes for my mind goes completely blank!  Anyway, this is to let you know that I am unable to receive any e-mails so if you have some off-topic messages for me, please leave them in the comments on the blog.

Needless to say, I am now in Grump Factor Max mode!

God, and Bill Gates (if you can tell the difference!), be praised because Milborne Port Computers clicked a few buttons and - hey presto! - all is well again!

 

 

 

'Who are we'? The enemy, 'stoopid'!

The former head of MI6 warned of the danger of allowing the Chinese company Huawei (Sole Prop. the Chinese government!) to gain access to our communications networks.  The Head of MI5, on the hand, says that 'there is nothing to see here move along'!  As an ex-Corporal in that well-known oxymoron, Army Intelligence, I would venture to suggest that allowing the Chinese, in any form, within spitting distance of our critical and strategic networks is either madness or treachery!

Get a grip, Boris!

Réveillez-vous, France!

Yes, of course, I enjoy seeing our nearest neighbour, France, embarrassed or flummoxed but I would not wish it to be seriously injured, especially when it appears to be as a result of self-inflicted wounds!  According to Peter Skurkis at The American Thinker, 'mini-Macron' is attempting to apply the brakes to his country's headlong drive to the edge of total financial and social disaster.

The reforms that Macron proposed were modest. It was basically to raise the retirement age from 62 to 64 and to standardize pensions across the country. Well, the roof caved in.

Needless to say, given the threats of strikes and violence, mini-Macron has been forced into, not so much concessions as total surrender:

"This prompted the government into another hasty retreat saying it would withdraw the proposed age limit change and postpone major decisions on how to keep the [pension] system solvent until it can better assess the situation between now and the end of April."

I just hope they get themselves sorted by next September when a new 'Normandy invasion' will take place, er, that's me and the 'Memsahib' and 'SoD' and some of his friends.  They are all set to inspect the D-day beaches.  The 'Memsahib' and I are determined to inspect that cafes, bars and restaurants (and no doubt the dress shops as well!) of Bayeux.  

Vive La France!

 

 

'Houston, we have a problem - again!'

Bloody-bloody Microsoft are playing silly buggers with my 'Outlook' which means I cannot read any incoming e-mails although, praise the Lord, it looks as though comments are coming through to D&N. This electronic world drives me nuts and I blame 'SoD'!

Your Monday Funnies: 13.1.20

Sorry for the slight delay, 'Nurse Ratchet' required my presence in order to pump me full of something or other but, alas (or hoorah!), the 'gunk' had not been delivered so I was let off - until Thursday!  Anyway, here are your 'Funnies':

A Jewish man was leaving a convenience store with his espresso when he noticed a most unusual Italian funeral procession approaching the nearby cemetery.

A black hearse was followed by a second black hearse about 50 feet behind the first one. Behind the second hearse was a solitary Italian man walking a dog on a leash.  Behind him, a short distance back, were about 200 men walking in single file.

The Jewish man couldn't stand the curiosity.

He respectfully approached the Italian man walking the dog and said: "I am so sorry for your loss, and this may be a bad time to disturb you, but I've never seen an Italian funeral like this. Whose funeral is it?"

"My wife's."

''What happened to her?"

"She yelled at me and my dog attacked and killed her."

He inquired further, "But who is in the second hearse?"

"My mother-in-law. She came to help my wife and the dog turned on her and killed her also."

A very poignant and touching moment of Jewish and Italian brotherhood and silence passed between the two men..

The Jewish man then asked "Can I borrow the dog?"

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This next one is especially for our Arkansas reporter, 'JK', and it is not exactly a joke, just exceedingly witty:

[CORRECTION: This was not written by 'Winnie' but by a man called Noah S. "Soggy" Sweat, Jr - no, really, check it out on Wiki! Thanks to Malcolm Pollack for spotting the error.]

Sir Winston Churchill was once asked about his position on whisky. Here's how he answered:

"If you mean whisky, the devil's brew, the poison scourge, the bloody monster that defiles innocence, dethrones reason, destroys the home, creates misery and poverty, yea, literally takes the bread from the mouths of little children; if you mean that evil drink that topples men and women from the pinnacles of righteous and gracious living into the bottomless pit of degradation, shame, despair, helplessness and hopelessness, then, my friend, I am opposed to it with every fibre of my being."

"However, if by whisky you mean the oil of conversation, the philosophic wine, the elixir of life, the ale that is consumed when good fellows get together, that puts a song in their hearts and the warm glow of contentment in their eyes; if you mean good cheer, the stimulating sip that puts a little spring in the step of an elderly gentleman on a frosty morning; if you mean that drink that enables man to magnify his joy, and to forget life's great tragedies and heartbreaks and sorrow; if you mean that drink the sale of which pours into our treasuries untold millions of pounds each year, that provides tender care for our little crippled children, our blind, our deaf, our dumb, our pitifully aged and infirm, to build the finest highways, hospitals, universities, and community colleges in this nation... then my friend, I am absolutely, unequivocally in favour of it..!!!"

"This is my position, and as always, I refuse to compromise on matters of principle!!!"

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WOMEN CAN BE SO INSENSITIVE.....
Ralph returns from the doctor and tells his wife that the doctor has told him he has only 24 hours to live.

Given this prognosis, Ralph asks his wife for sex. Naturally, she agrees, and they make love.

About six hours later, the husband goes to his wife and says, 'Honey, you know I now have only 18 hours to live. Could we please do it one more time?' Of course, the wife agrees and they do it again.

Later, as the man gets into bed, he looks at his watch and realizes he now has only 8 hours left. He touches his wife's shoulder and asks, 'Honey, please - just one more time before I die ?'
She says, 'Of course, dear.' And they make love for the third time.

After this session, the wife rolls over & falls asleep.

Ralph, however, worried about his impending death, tosses & turns until he's down to 4 more hours.  He taps his wife, who rouses. 'Honey , I have only 4 more hours. Do you think we could....?'

At this point the wife rolls over and says, 'Listen Ralph, I have to get up in the morning... ......you don't."  

 

That's your lot, have a good day!

 

 

 

His death is truly a loss

I refer to the late Sir Roger Scruton whose death has just been announced.  I can't claim to be an expert on all of his writings which were prodigious but when I came across him back in the '80s when I was a subscriber to the Salisbury Review, I instantly recognised a ferocious intelligence and intellect which seemed to become keener as he grew older.  Alas, today a brilliant light has been extinguished.

Douglas Murray - who better? - has written an excellent summary of Sir Roger's life over at the Coffee House.  It is well worth a read.

The Sunday Rumble 12.1.20

In which Peter Hitchens agrees - with me!   Well, obviously, that is a whopping great misdirection - or lie, if you prefer! - but I can with accuracy say that in his column today he repeats sentiments expressed by me a few days ago.  I expressed my hope that Labour would succeed in ridding itself of the ignorant loonies who infiltrated it and then took it over completely.  It is critically important because, like every other democracy, we need a functioning opposition, never more so than now when we have a government run by the, er, eccentric 'Boris & Dom' team.  Get a grip Labour and get your act back together!

 

Poor Harry, the Prince who chose exile:   Or, to be more accurate, perhaps, the Prince who was nagged into exile!  Alas, I fear an Edward/Wallis Simpson future for him.  On the surface, no doubt, it will be very exotic as he and Meghan 'cruise' the 'sleb' circuit, well, to begin with, anyway. But "that old common arbitrator Time/ Will one day end it".  Looks and youth will fade, money will shrink, invitations will wither; new, fresher, younger 'slebs' will capture the headlines and then the dread question will be asked - "Meghan who?"

 

More Hitchens!    And no, I am not apologising because he is a writer I much admire.  Today, in The Mail, he demands to know what has happened to the film "An Officer And A Spy" based on the superb novel by Robert Harris which detailed the disgusting campaign which eventually brought down Alfred Dreyfus, a totally innocent French army officer who just happened to be Jewish.  The film won 'yuuuuuge' plaudits when released but then more or less disappeared.  Mr. Hitchens suggests that the fact that it was directed by Roman Polanski, a self-confessed paedophile, is the main reason for its banishment from our screens but he also points out that if we are to be denied access to artistic creations simply on the basis of the artists' disgusting behaviour then we will lose a lot;

If so, what should the BBC do about the sculptures by Eric Gill, which adorn its London HQ? Gill’s sexual crimes were so horrible that I will only say they included incest.

As for the much admired surrealist painter Salvador Dali, his private life (by his own account) was cruel and disgusting beyond belief. Should his pictures be removed from the world’s galleries?

Whilst we wait for commonsense to apply, read Harris's book - it is superb!

 

Taki is still a very naughty boy!   As I keep telling you every time I mention his name.  To be fair, this time it is one of the writers at his magazine who is the naughty one.  I refer to Mr. Jim Goad (No, me neither!) who has provided us all with his choice of the 19 most annoying people of 2019.  To give you the flavour, this is his view of #1: Pete Buttigieg, a 'wannabe' Presidential candidate:

1. PETE BUTTIGIEG
Hey, it’s “Mayor Pete”! He’s the first millennial homosexual mayor ever to make a serious bid for a major party’s nomination. He has never had an original idea in his life, and the only reason he’s gained any traction is because he’s an anus-nuzzling bone-polisher. Blacks don’t like him, Hispanics don’t like him, and radical homos think he’s too boring. Whenever this smarmy little vole starts pontificating about some policy issue or another, all the entire world can think about is that later tonight, he’ll be batting around his husband’s testicles as if they were ping-pong balls and his tongue was a paddle.

Er, well, yes, if you say so Mr. Goad!

 

Look but don't touch!   There is a very 'swotty' article in The Telegraph which suggests that just looking at something alters its state of being.  This might help to explain it for y'all.  

 

Oh, come along, do buck up, it's all very simple really. If you are not sure whether something is a particle or a wave, just look at it!  See?  That quantum physics is dead easy, really!

 

Sound the trumpets, beat the drums!   It looks as though ex-Cpl. Duff might be re-joining the Colours.  Apparently, our (so-called) Ministry of Defence has let it be known that they wish to attract old soldiers back to military service.  They are desperately short of recruits, mainly, I guess, because the delicate youngsters of today are failing to volunteer.  Anyway, I stand ready to return, er, just so long as someone can give me a hand with my back-pack, allow me time for a nap in the afternoon and bring me a hot cocoa at bedtime.

 

No more rumbles

 

 

Gwyneth, darling, I'll take a dozen - for starters!

I have it on very good authority - er, well, actually I am referring to the old 'grump' who runs the I Hate The Media site - who in turn  points me to the Daily Wire.  That, no doubt august organ, informs me that Gwyneth Paltrow who stole my heart in her performance as Viola De Lesseps in that brilliant and witty film, Shakespeare in Love (script by Tom Stoppard), has now launched a personalised candle with, er, an interesting perfume bearing her name.

In fact, it bears more than just her name because in the marketing which precedes its release, she assures us all that she has decided to call the candle, "This Smells Like My Vagina".  Needless to say, I have already ordered half a dozen - no, no, not candles, I mean cases of candles!  I'm sure 'the Memsahib' will be entranced with that, er, delicate fragrance - and if any of you lot tip her off as to what it is called I will come and get you!!!!

Finally, the impeccable (I'm sure!) Daily Wire reports that she gifted herself a vibrator for Christmas.  Silly Gwynie!  She must know that I, so to speak, stand ready at a moment's notice to assist her in that capacity.  Well, perhaps not a "moment's notice", more like a couple of days weeks months whilst I, er, recharge my batteries, so to speak!  

 

 

 

There are liars, lying-liars and then Iranian liars!

So, finally, the Iranians own up and admit the truth that it was them who shot a civilian passenger aircraft out of the sky thus murdering 176 innocent people.  They claim is was done accidentally, so not only murderous liars but incompetent, too!  How 'The Donald' must be smiling to himself inside the White House as his assassination of an Iranian killer is buried at the bottom of the news pages whilst an Iranian atrocity combined with their pathetic and blatant dishonesty takes over the headlines.

'Over here', we, too, are smiling because only yesterday the ultra-smoothie-chops who is the Iranian ambassador to London, was on our TV channels absolutely and definitely assuring us that his government had nothing to do with the destruction of the civilian airliner.  He became the perfect example of that old saying that 'diplomats are sent abroad to lie for their country'!  Also, it  is worth dwelling on what the families of those 50-odd demonstrators who were killed by crushing in Tehran as, er, 'spontaneous' demonstrations broke out in protest at the original American action.  Surely some of them must be asking themselves if this gang of dishonest, mouth-dribbling idiots who rule Iran are really worth dying for?

 

 

Thank you, Meghan, and don't slam the door on your way out!

God, what a relief it has been whilst 'H&M' have been away in Canada!  For a while the newspapers have been informing us of news - real news! - rather than the latest fashion accessories sported by Meghan.  To be fair, whilst she is, of course, a publicity-seeking (at a price?) operator the excessive 'meeja' coverage was not entirely her fault.  The dim, dumb, British public dribble at any gossip concerning those two and 'the dandruff-ridden hacks of Fleet Street' are only two pleased to serve it up.  And, of course, they will continue to do so because if 'H&M' seriously believe that they will now be left alone to pick and choose their own carefully crafted publicity they are in for a surprise!

 

 

Here's some good news - for a change!

The young man in the photo, Master Nicholas Sandmann, was a pupil at a Catholic High School in 1918 when some sort of demo-rally kicked off featuring some old Red Indian 'scrote' called Nathan Phillips, a well known activist on behalf of 'native Americans'.  Master Sandmann did nothing but be a spectator but was caught in a photo opposite Phillips and subsequently the photo was, er, 'adjusted' and the story put about by the 'meeja', mainly the WaPo and CNN, that Sandmann had mocked 'Big Chief' Phillips.  Screeching demands were broadcast that Sandmann should be punished.

The fact is that Sandmann did nothing other than smile politely and - SCHLOCK-HORROR! - wear a Trump-style 'MAGA' hat.  That was enough for the dimwit fanatics at CNN et al to launch their vicious campaign against Master Sandmann.  Yesterday, CNN settled a $275 million lawsuit brought against them by Master Sandmann.  OUCH!  Those useless, lying-liar, Leftie-journos must cost their employers a fortune - I'm delighted to say.  The WaPo and NBC Universal are next up in the dock. 

What can one say except 'ohdearwhatapitynevermind'!

 

 

The problem with Ricky Gervais is that he wasn't nearly rude enough!

As we all do know now, Ricky Gervais was 'yuuuugely' rude to the gathered Hollywood scum stars and starlets gathered for their annual prize-giving.  Alas, he was no-where near rude enough!  Take for example, Ms. Michelle Williams - and no, I have never heard of her before today - who won a bauble at the Globe Awards.  As Ms. Jeannie DeAngelis informs us at The American Thinker, it was probably a good thing that the entry carpet to the ceremony was red because it is possible that Ms. Williams might have left a trail of blood behind her!

Once inside, and despite Gervais's advice to avoid political acceptance speeches, the nominee for best actress in a limited series or television film, Michelle Williams, came prepared to confess that a "woman's right" to kill her unborn children is what gained her access to a carpet stained with both [literally] sewage [there had been a plumbing accident earlier] and [metaphorically] blood.

Ms. DeAngelis continues:

Embracing her prize, Michelle shared that she wouldn't be where she is today if she hadn't aborted a baby or two. The award-winner implied that had she not relegated one of her many lover's children to a red biohazard bag, she wouldn't be as welcome to sit among those in attendance, many of whom likely sold their souls to the Devil for the opportunity to become a star.

Kind of like an unborn child with no control over a fame-hungry mother headed toward an abortion clinic, Michelle explained: "As women and as girls, things can happen to our bodies that are not our choice." Apparently, as one half of the twosome needed to conceive a child, Michelle excuses herself from the process. Furthermore, if she wasn't raped, based on those remarks, Michelle seems unaware she had a "choice" before "things ... happened to her body" that resulted in life. After that, Michelle commended herself by stating, "I've tried my best to live a life of my own making and not just a series of events that happened to me."

Apparently, as I write she is carrying the embryo of a child produced with her current lover.  Ms. DeAngelis advises him strongly to keep an eye on it because you never know when Ms. Williams will be offered another starry role!

 

 

 

A word of thanks to my 'commenters'

As it is the beginning of a new year, I would like to say a word of thanks to my 'commenters' who, so to speak, provide the sauce for my rather plain 'cooking' on this blog.  I am only sorry that I no longer attract the number of political opponents I used to 'back in the day' - who can ever forget 'Larry Teabag' et al?  Anyway, thanks to all for taking the time and the trouble.

“TALLYHO X LET’S GET THE BASTARD.”

You might think at first glance, given the current 'shlock-horror' in 'woke' circles, that my title is taken from radio exchanges between American rocket operators as they guided their missiles into the back seat of the car driving the late, unlamented (except by fellow murderous nutters) Qassim Soleimani.  You would be wrong but understandably so because those words were actually uttered back in 1943 as some very naughty and politically incorrect American P38 pilots swooped in and ambushed Admiral Yamamoto, sending him to his death in the sea which was, I suppose given his naval career, entirely appropriate!  The fact that he had also carefully plotted, planned and executed the surprise attack on Pearl Harbour which resulted in 2,335 deaths is justification enough, one feels.  One can only surmise as to the number of deaths Soleimani would have executed had he lived longer but his sudden termination can be nothing but good news especially if his successors remember that there is a man in the White House just as ruthless as they are! 

My thanks to Mr. Rich Lowry at The National Review for nudging me!

 

 

 

Your Monday *Funny" - note the singular!

I am a tad pushed for time this morning so instead of searching desperately for 'Funnies' to amuse y'all, I decided to copy and print the speech made by Ricky Gervais at the totally ridiculous "Golden Balls Globe Awards" ceremony yesterday.  What, you may ask, are his chances of being invited back to host next year's ceremony?  Somewhere between zero and -100, I would say.

Hello and welcome to the 77th annual Golden Globe Awards, live from the Beverly Hilton Hotel here in Los Angeles. I’m Ricky Gervais. Thank you.

You’ll be pleased to know this is the last time I’m hosting these awards, so I don’t care anymore. I’m joking: I never did. NBC clearly don’t care either – fifth time. I mean, Kevin Hart was fired from the Oscars because of some offensive tweets. Hello [pointing at himself].

Lucky for me, the Hollywood foreign press can barely speak English and they have no idea what Twitter is. I got offered this gig by fax. So let’s go out with a bang. Let’s have a laugh at your expense, shall we? Remember, they’re just jokes. We’re all gonna die soon and there’s no sequel, so remember that. But you all look lovely, all dolled up. You came in your limos. I came here in a limo tonight and the license plate was made by Felicity Huffman. It’s her daughter I feel sorry for – that must be the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to her. And her dad was in Wild Hogs.

So lots of big celebrities here tonight. I mean legends, icons. Look at this table alone. Al Pacino. Robert De Niro. Baby Yoda. Oh no, that’s Joe Pesci, sorry. I love you man, don’t have me whacked.

But tonight isn’t just about the people in front of the camera. In this room are some of the most important TV and film executives in the world. People from every background. But they all have one thing in common. They’re all terrified of Ronan Farrow. He’s coming for you. Look, talking of all you perverts. It was a big year for paedophile movies: Surviving R Kelly, Leaving Neverland… The Two Popes.
Many talented people of colour were snubbed in major categories. Unfortunately, there’s nothing we can do about that. The Hollywood foreign press are all very, very racist. So fifth time. We were going to do an in memoriam this year, but when I saw the list of people that died, it wasn’t diverse enough. It was mostly white people and I thought, nah, not on my watch.

Maybe next year, let’s see what happens. No one cares about movies anymore. No one goes to the cinema. No one really watches network TV. Everyone’s watching Netflix. This show should just be me coming out going ‘well done Netflix, you win everything. Goodnight.’ But no, no, we’ve got to drag it out for three hours. You could binge watch the entire first season of After Life instead of watching this show. That’s a show about a man who wants to kill himself because his wife dies of cancer. And it’s still more fun than this. Okay, spoiler alert, season two is on the way. So in the end, he obviously didn’t kill himself – just like Jeffrey Epstein. Shut up. I know he’s your friend, but I don’t care. You had to make your own way here on your own plane didn’t you?

But seriously, most films are awful, lazy remakes and sequels. I’ve heard a rumour that there might be a sequel to Sophie’s Choice. I mean, that would just be Meryl Streep going, ‘Well it’s got to be this one then.’

All the best actors have jumped to Netflix and HBO, and the actors who just do Hollywood movies now do fantasy adventure nonsense. They wear masks and capes and really tight costumes. Their job isn’t acting anymore, it’s going to the gym twice a day and taking steroids. Have we got an award for most ripped junkie? No, no point.

Martin Scorsese, the greatest living director, made the news for his controversial comments about the Marvel franchise. He said they’re not real cinema and they remind him of theme parks. I agree, although I don’t know what he’s doing hanging around theme parks. He’s not big enough to go on the rides. He’s tiny. The Irishman was amazing. It was amazing. Long, but amazing. It wasn’t the only epic movie. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, nearly three hours long. Leonardo DiCaprio attended the premiere and by the end, his date was too old for him. Even Prince Andrew’s like, ‘Come on Leo mate, you know, you’re nearly 50 son.’

The world got to see James Corden as a fat pussy. He was also in the movie Cats, but no one saw that. And the reviews were shocking. I saw one that said this is the worst thing to happen to cats since dogs. But Dame Judi Dench defended the film, saying it was the role she was born to play because she – I can’t do this next joke. Because she loves nothing better than plonking herself down on the carpet, lifting her leg and licking her arse hole. She’s old school. It’s the last time, who cares.

Apple roared into the TV game with The Morning Show, a superb drama. A superb drama about the importance of dignity and doing the right thing, made by a company that runs sweatshops in China. So, well, you say you’re woke, but the companies you work for. I mean, unbelievable: Apple, Amazon, Disney. If Isis started a streaming service, you’d call your agent, wouldn’t you? So if you do win an award tonight, please don’t use it as a platform to make a political speech. You’re in no position to lecture the public about anything. You know nothing about the real world. Most of you spent less time in school than Greta Thunberg. So if you win, come up, accept your little award, thank your agent and your God and fuck off.

Oh God, I would have paid good money to be there!

 

 

 

The Sunday Rumble: 5.1.20

Both here and 'over there' the Left is loony:   I have been struck by the Left-wing re-action to Trump's decision to assassinate a man whose entire career has been dedicated to ferocious and murderous campaigns against America's allies and who was planning to extend this ferocity on to Americans as well.  The plan was, er, 'executed' immaculately!  Cue: the Democratic party dissolving into mass wailing and gnashing of teeth.  How odd that when the previous President did more or less exactly the same, it was 'all hail, Obama'!  It is obviously an example of the new colour problem evolving 'over there'; Black Good/Ginger Bad!

 

Meanwhile, 'over here' we can enjoy our Labour loonies:   This morning my TV screen has been filled with 'wannabe' hopefuls desperate to be the new leader of the LMP - the Labour Marxist Party.  I almost yearned for 'Jezza' to come back because this lot were the dimmest, dumbest collection of dimwits I have seen and listened to since, er, well, the election, actually, in which the MLP were as close to annihilation as you can be in a general election.  We all make mistakes but to keep on repeating the same mistakes defies definition.

 

'Anything Republicans do, Democrats do worser'!   Yes, America has its problems and according to the Democrat party it is all the fault of the Republicans in general and Trump in particular.  And yet … and yet … even a quick glance at those 'yuuuuuuuuge' cities that have been completely controlled by the Dems for decades, like 'Noo Yawk' or Chicago or Baltimore will show utter corruption, filth, poverty and conditions which are more fourth, or fifth world than third world!  Which would you rather live in - Calcutta or Baltimore?

 

I hope Boris has plenty of axes:   Well, first of all there is the BBC who need to be decapitated immediately, or at least, have the tax-payers' teat ripped from its greedy mouth!  Then there is this ludicrous HS2 rail system which, allegedly, will get you from London to Manchester eight minutes quicker even if it cost zillions of tax-payers' money.  Apart from the obvious question in this 'whizzy-do' electronic world we live in - who the hell wants to go to Manchester in the first place? - we all know for a dead cert that whatever the budget is today, it will be a fraction of the total cost in the end.  Get chopping, Boris!

 

Aussie news is lost in the smoke and flames!   The Australian, continent-wide fire is a colossal disaster quite beyond my British imagination!  I simply can't get my head around it!  And today I hear that it is likely to go on for months!  Of course, eventually it will end and then, I hope, a full scientific enquiry needs to take place because I suspect that management of the countryside has been a major factor.  Don't let the 'Greenies' and the 'Warmers' influence matters because they will ignore the science and simply chant out their 'religious' beliefs.  In the meantime, if any of my Aussie pals know of any proper fund-raising schemes to help support the distressed and the fire-fighters please let me know.  I want to contribute something and I guess many of my readers feel the same.

 

No more Rumbles 

 

 

 

Who would want the worst political job in the world?

Well, they're queuing up, apparently!  I refer to the vacancy left by the 'execution' of that ineffable idiot, Jeremy Corbyn, hitherto the (alleged) leader of the Labour party.  Why anyone would volunteer to enter that pit of roiling snakes and loonies beats me but - hey! - that's politics for you!  If another mouth-dribbling Leftie wins then he or she can look forward to at least another ten years of electoral contempt and defeat.  If, on the other hand, a soft Leftie wins then they can expect a never ending hail of stones and rocks from the Marxist 'mouth-dribblers' who will shriek "Traitor!" at every opportunity.

Of course, if the 'il-Lib-non-Dems', or what is left of them, had more than three brain cells they would mount an enormous subversion campaign aimed at stripping the Labour party of its semi-sensible adherents and forming a new Left of Centre grouping that would offer intelligent policies aimed at providing what the dreaded 'Peeps' want rather than the sort of material over which your average University student masturbates!

In the meantime, of course, Boris (and Dom) will bumble on and we must all hope that they avoid any major pile-ups because, at present, they are the only government we have!  HOODATHUNKIT?

 

 

 

I am a self-confessed ignoramus!

'Waddya mean ya noo already!'  I have confessed on these pages before the sad fact that after five years in senior school I failed my maths, physics and chemistry exams.  I never saw my actual marks but my guess is that they were atrocious!  I would like to blame my teachers but the fact is that it was my inability to concentrate for more than 5 nano-seconds at a time.  Even so, it is curious that long after I had left school, I suddenly became utterly fixated on quantum physics.  I read - or, to be honest, tried to read - as many books as I could get on the weird and wonderful world that (sort of) exists at the sub-atomic level and even volunteered to attend lectures on the subject.

Of course, eventually I let the subject drop because it began to seem like reading Shakespeare in Chinese!  In the end, we all have to admit our limitations.  However, this afternoon the ashes of my previous fascination were rekindled by a superb essay at The Times Literary Supplement by Samuel Graydon - and 'no', me neither!  Whoever he is, I can tell you that he is a superb writer on what is, not very arguably, the most hideously difficult subject in the world!  Suddenly, all those names I sort of 'hero-worshipped' back in the day as I struggled to make sense of their phenomanally complex theories, came back to me.  What can I say except, 'Sorry, chaps, but I did try'.  Sometimes, just for a split micro-second I would understand and be truly amazed but then - bingo! - it would go, sometimes at the speed of light.

Even so, I urge y'all to give Mr. Graydon's essay a read and just see if 'it presses your buttons', too!

 

 

 

 

Don't mess with 'The Donald'!

My only surprise at the news that President Trump had, in effect, just assassinated the Deputy 'President' of Iran was how long it took him to act!  For the last three years we have been under an endless stream of 'meeja agit-prop' to the effect that Trump was a trigger-happy looney who would start WWIII.  During those three years America has been the target for endless direct or indirect attacks of various kinds from Iran and its Islamic fanatical leadership.  The assault on the American embassy in Iraq was the final straw.

One immediate effect will be to concentrate what passes for the minds of those Iranian 'loonies' who 'strut their hour upon the stage' seemingly in the belief that they are invulnerable.  Not, of course, that that will change their ambitions but in future they will be wise to pick their targets more carefully - US embassies are best avoided!  Of course, what they are likely to do is switch their venom from America to friends of America.  Israel, of course, is well able to look after itself and the Iranians have never had any doubts as to the sort of response they can expect from that direction.  I just hope Boris and his acolytes are able to grip what passes these days for the British military(!) and ensure a suitably swift and murderous response to any future Iranian excesses.

In the meantime, I will congratulate 'The Donald' on an immaculate action which would have reduced his predecessor to tears and trembles had he - God forfend! - been in command!  Yes, there will be troubles ahead - so no change there then!

 

 

Another good reason to privatise the BBC

Well, the number of good reasons to privatise the BBC grows exponentially but Matt Ridley adds a few more.  Did you know, for example, that there is a BBC rule that if anyone on air suggests that global warming is tosh then a global warming mouth-dribbler MUST be given a following slot.  In Mr. Ridley's example, he was invited on to the Today programme when Charles Moore was guest editor for one day.  Mr. Ridley's well-supported scorn for global warming nonsense is well known so he was followed on air by Sir David King, former government chief science advisor. As Mr. Ridley points out, Sir David is a qualified chemist, while he is a qualified biologist!

I sat there open-mouthed as he beautifully demonstrated my point with one exaggeration after another. He said that Europe’s dash for diesel had nothing to do with greens, when green pressure groups pushed actively for it. He said that we will see 1-2 metres of sea level rise this century, when the current rate of rise is 3.4 millimetres a year with no acceleration (or 0.3 metres per century). He said that all of Greenland’s ice cap might melt and could cause 5-6 metres of sea level rise, though at current rates of melting, Greenland’s ice cap will be 99% intact in 2100. He said that wild fires were being caused by trees dying out because of rising temperatures, rather than a failure to manage increasingly luxuriant vegetation in fire-risk areas leading to a build up of tinder. He said scientists are agreed that Calcutta will have to be moved, when the Ganges delta is actually expanding in area, not shrinking.

And so on and on and on and it is not confined just to Sir David and the BBC:

What readers of newspapers and listeners to the radio do not see is the sustained and deliberate pressure put on editors to toe the alarmist line on climate change. Take Bob Ward, who works at the London School of Economics, where his salary is paid by a billionaire, Jeremy Grantham. Ward is not employed to do research, but to “communicate” climate science. He chooses to interpret this as a duty to put pressure on the media to censor people like me. He complains to the Times almost every time I mention climate change, often getting his facts wrong, and kicked up a huge fuss when the Times, after publishing half a dozen of his letters declined to publish another one.

I am shocked, I tell you, shocked that the Maldives have the effrontery to continue to exist years and years after the 'experts' told them they were doomed.  Then there was that total prat, Paul R. Erhlich, who used to feature constantly in these, er, distinguished columns, who warned, with my emphasis:

“The battle to feed all of humanity is over.” He later went on to forecast that hundreds of millions would starve to death in the 1970s, that 65 million of them would be Americans, that crowded India was essentially doomed, that odds were fair “England will not exist in the year 2000.” Dr. Ehrlich was so sure of himself that he warned in 1970 that “sometime in the next 15 years, the end will come.” By “the end,” he meant “an utter breakdown of the capacity of the planet to support humanity.”

Well, England is still here and, amazingly, so is Dr. Erhlich!  Mind you, for a full-on 'gloomster-doomster' of the first order, he did provide us all with a huge laugh when he accepted a bet with Julian Simon which you can read about on Erhlich's Wiki entry and which he lost - BIG TIME!

The real threat to all of us are 'experts'!

 

 

 

 

Whisper who dares but I feel just a teensy-weensy bit optimistic!

Mostly at the start of any New Year, my main feeling is one of cautious pessimism but this year I have, if not optimism, then at least a small portion of, dare I say, cheerfulness!  Above and beyond all else is the enormous sense of relief that we are now poised to exit that wretched European Union.  Not that I wish my European neighbours ill - well, not most of them! - but it is the sense of freedom that we no longer live under the threat of those Eurocratic imbeciles whose personal ambitions and desire for ever more power eventually drove us Brits away.  And what a proud moment that was when an independent-minded British people decided that enough was enough and made for the exit.  Not the least of my mouth-watering pleasures has been watching the extinction of so many 'Remainer' creeps like the insufferably superior Dominic Grieve.  Bye-by, Dom baby, don't hurry back!  To add icing to our cake, those same sensible Brits voted to destroy Jeremy Corbyn and his gang of mouth-dribbling Marxists.  No doubt Boris will make his blunders but they will be as nothing compared to the wreckage that Corbyn's loonies would have inflicted on us.

Yes, there will be troubles ahead - there always are! - but at least the decks have been cleared for action, so go for it, Boris (and Dom), it's your decade!

 

 

Whither or wither - Putin?

Recently a friend of mine casually expressed the opinion that Putin was a very intelligent national leader and political operator.  Happily, now that I am officially an 'Old Geezer', I did not indulge in a major hissy-fit in order explain the 'bleedin' obvious' that Putin is a stupid, greedy, crooked nincompoop of the first order who makes Donald Trump look like a political genius!  Just as well I kept calm otherwise an old friendship might have dissolved!

Anyway, I was interested to read Dr. Andrew Foxall in today's Telegraph.  He is a foreign affairs 'Brainiac' who, happily, confirms my gut feeling that Putin is fast approaching his 'sell by date'!

The summer of 2019 saw widespread anti-government protests on the streets of Moscow and elsewhere. The political opposition is increasingly resilient. Grass-roots activism is on the rise. Russians now take to the streets to voice grievances about deteriorating public services, from rubbish disposal to hospital closures.

Like Yeltsin before him, Putin has squandered Russia’s transition. Putin’s time in power provided him with almost unlimited financial and political resources with which to modernise the country. Instead, he built a grotesque kleptocracy which has left Russia as one of the most unequal major economies in the world. In 2018, according to Credit Suisse, the top 10 percent of the population controlled 82 percent of the country’s wealth.

Thus, he "struts and frets his hour upon the stage" but it will not last.  I have enormous pity for the long-suffering Russian people even whilst, at the same time, I blame them for not making their presence more strongly felt!  Of course, that's easy for me to say, living as I do in a free democracy.  

 

 

Your New Year's Eve Funnies - no, really . . .

Your friends and family will be deeply grateful that by the time the clock strikes midnight on New Year's Eve, you will have totally forgotten all these!

On New Year's Eve, Marilyn stood up in the local pub and said that it was time to get ready.  At the stroke of midnight, she wanted every husband to be standing next to the one person who made his life worth living.

Well, it was kind of embarrassing.

As the clock struck, the bartender was almost crushed to death!

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A Senator in the USA was once asked about his attitude toward whisky.

"If you mean the demon drink that poisons the mind, pollutes the body, desecrates family life, and inflames sinners, then I'm against it.

But if you mean the elixir of a New Year toast, the shield against winter chill, the taxable potion that puts needed funds into public coffers to comfort little crippled children, then I'm for it.

This is my position, and I will not compromise."

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A woman walks into a tattoo parlour and asks for a tattoo of a Christmas tree on her right inner thigh and a cocktail drink on her left inner thigh.

The tattoo artist say that's an unusual request, "Why do you want two tattoos there?"

She says "Because my husband needs to eat between Christmas and New Year."

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This has absolutely nothing to do with New Year but it made me chuckle:

A cowboy was taken prisoner by a bunch of angry Indians. They were all prepared to kill him but their Chief declared that since they were celebrating the Great Spirit, they would grant the cowboy three wishes before he killing him. The cowboy can do nothing, but obey them.

The Chief comes up to him and asks:
- What do you want for your first wish?
- I want talk to my horse, - replies the cowboy.

The Chief allows him to talk to the horse. The cowboy whispers in its ear. The horse neighs, rears back, and takes off at full speed. About an hour later, the horse comes back with a naked lady on its back. Well, the Indians are very impressed, so they let the cowboy use one of their teepees. A little while later, the cowboy stumbles out of the teepee, tucking in his shirt.

The Chief asks him once again:
- What do you want for your second wish?
- I want to talk to my horse, - once again replies the cowboy.

Again, the cowboy whispers in the horse’s ear. The horse neighs, rears back, and takes off at full speed. About an hour later, the horse comes back with another naked lady on its back. Well, the Indians are very impressed indeed. So, once again, they let the cowboy use one of their teepees. The cowboy stumbles out a little while later.

The chief comes up to the cowboy and asks:
- So, what do you want for your last third wish?
- I want to talk to my horse, - for the third time replies the cowboy.

He grabs the horse by the ears and yells @ it:
- You stupid animal, I said POSSE, POSSE not PUSSY!!!

 

That's it - and who said, 'Thank God'?

 

The Sunday Rumble: 29.12.19

Whither the House of Windsor?  The 'Heffalump' has an interesting article in The Telegraph today on the subject of the Royal family and its future.  As 'Her Maj' put it in her Xmas speech, it has been "a bumpy year" for the Windsors.  Andrew has been a prat - so no surprise there, then! - and Harry has married an American 'wannabe diva' who obviously detests all things British and much prefers the, er, 'high society' of Hollywood.  I don't altogether blame her for that but I suspect that 'Prince' Harry will eventually tire of it all.  Never mind, Charles stands ready, indeed, probably tapping his foot in frustration, to ascend the throne and hopefully his dottiness will be accepted by his subjects over time.  Let us all thank God that behind Charles stand William and Kate (and Kate's mother!), quite possibly the most sensible family unit in the entire Royal hierarchy!

 

Better watch out, BBC, the axeman cometh!   Yesterday, Mr. Charles Moore, he of the world's greatest magazine, The Spectator, was granted the role of editor on the BBC's morning agit-prop programme, "Today".  His report on the experience is well worth reading particularly the difficulties put in his way to stop him inviting in a 'global warming' sceptic for an interview.  Rumour has it that the swivel-eyed 'Greenie', Roger Harrabin, who purports to be the BBC Environmental Editor, was not amused!  Come on, Boris - and Dominic! - don't hang about, chop them off at the knees and let the BBC earn its living in the real world!

 

And it may be Douglas Murray wielding the axe!   As you may have gathered after several admiring mentions on this blog, I am a devoted admirer of Mr. Murray and his works.  Not least his latest article in today's Mail in which he hopes, and perhaps even prays, that the era of 'woke' dictatorship will end in 2020.  Alas, I fear that too many non-celebrities desperate for celebrity will keep the fires burning and continue to throw sensible people on them.  Still, a man may hope, may he not?

 

"The top ten most influential books of all time":   That is the courageous title of an article at The American Spectator written by Larry Alex Taunton.  I will leave y'all to judge his judgment but it prodded me into wondering which books have been the most influential on me?  Tricky one, that!  I suppose it boils down to which books have remained in my memory over the past 80 years?  Well, one in particular has never left it - "The White Company" by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.  It was the first book given to us in my first term at Grammar School - and whilst I am shaky on the details, the essence of it has never left me.  It demonstrated courage in war but also benevolence.  A terrific read for any young lad.

 

"First Things" first!   I have just read a book review by Peter Hitchens, alas written in July - my bad! - on the prickly, tricky subject of Benjamin Netanyahu.  Needless to say, Hitchens' views are always worth reading on almost any subject.  However, this particular review was published by a totally new site to me - "First Things".  Intrigued, I checked out the site - and instantly subscribed to it!  I would urge y'all to do the same!  Yes, at first glance it appears to have a religious bent but they don't shove it down your throat - and if they publish Hitchens then they can't be all bad, can they?

 

No more rumbles today

 

 

 

"Shurely shome mishtake here!"

Can't think what is going on in 'Buck House' these days!  Today they published the New Year's Honours List - and I'm not on it!  I assumed, when no letter was forthcoming from 'Her Maj', that our useless Postal Service had lost it but not so, apparently.  I blame the snidey little creeps who surround her  and who, I guess, have failed to read any of the stream of wisdom that emanates from this blog!  (Or perhaps they did!)

It is a sign of their total incompetence that they managed to give a Damehood to Ms. Alison Pearson, generally reckoned to be the most useless, incompetent Director of (non)Prosecutions ever!  Mind you, whether by accident or design, they did manage to get one thing absolutely right - they totally ignored that gurning, self-important prat, John Bercow, despite his (and his wife's, I guess) absolute expectation that he would be made a Lord of the Realm.  Sorry, 'Bercers', old chap, you're still a plain, old 'Mr'!

 

 

The evisceration of Lord Adonis

There are some people on the fringes of politics - and many of them at the heart, too! - who achieve very little except raise the contempt and irritation levels of, er, well, me, actually!  Lord Adonis is such a one.  He has been a limpet-like hanger-on to the coat-tails of the Labour party for too many years but now he has actually decided to embrace them! 

Part of what maintained a discreet distance between his Lordship and Comrade Corbyn was his Lordship's deep and abiding love for the EU.  For many a year he has fought vigorously and loudly against Brexit whilst Corbyn, of course, shuffled slowly and carefully along as neutral a path as he could manage, being neither pro-Brexit nor anti-Brexit.  Even so, beneath all his Lordship's ferocious anti-Brexiteering, there lay a deep and abiding desire for elected office.  According to Alex Massie writing on the CAPX site,  Corbyn has granted him his wish and offered him the chance to stand for a seat in the European parliament:

Having gained a place on Labour’s candidate list for next month’s vote, Adonis released a statement of extraordinary hilarity: “In our dangerously divided society, Labour is the only political party seeking to bring remain and leave voters together so that we can get on with the job of ensuring our country works for the many, not the few.”

Labour, you see, “has always been clear that it respects the result of the referendum. What we do not respect is the way the Conservatives have sought to use Brexit to create a more unequal economy and a harsher society”. Tory Brexit bad; Labour Brexit good. “That is why Labour has put forward a sensible alternative plan that would ensure a close economic relationship with the EU after Brexit.”

The stench of over-ripe humbug is overwhelming!

 

 

 

A very cinematic Boxing Day

I may not be a very exciting man to live with, as the 'Memsahib' will confirm - vigorously! - but, dammit, I have excellent taste in films.  Thus, yesterday afternoon and evening I slumped in my reclining chair and after cruising through the 'library' of films I have recorded on my 'telly'.  I began with "The Spy Who Came In from the Cold" with Richard Burton at his very best.  It is, of course, absolutely everything that the James Bond movies are NOT!  Grimly realistic and redolent of that now lost - thank God! - age of the cold war, the Berlin wall and the vicious but underhand trickery of the intelligence services - on both sides!

To lighten my mood, I then moved on to one of the most charming and delightful films ever made - "The Artist".  This is a French film but set in the Hollywood of the late '20s when silent movies were on the cusp of losing out to sound-tracked films.  Thus, most of the movie itself is silent and the two stars concerned, Jean Dujardin and Bérénice Bejo, are simply superb - ooops, I almost forgot the other star of the film Uggie as the dog, Jack.

Last but definitely not least, I watched - again - for about the tenth time! - one of the greatest and most moving films - EVER!  I have bored on about "The Secret in their Eyes" too many times and oft so I will not add to your tedium but simply say that if you have never seen this deeply disturbing Argentinian film - THEN SEE IT NOW!  

Oh dear, sorry for shouting!  Anyway, I enjoyed a superb Boxing Day!

 

 

 

It woz 'Ollie' wot dunnit!

See, he wasn't all bad, that Oliver Cromwell.  Yes, perhaps he did decapitate rather too many of the dreaded 'Peeps', as well as kick off a civil war but in 1644 he stood up tall for all grumpy, old men and banned Christmas!  This, of course, caused lots of 'likkle kiddie-winkies' to burst into tears, so well done 'Ollie', me old mate! 

 

 

I am obliged to the witty and wise, and excellent actor, Mr. Simon Callow, who writes in today's Mail providing a history of the exceedingly dodgy passage of Christmas through the ages.  Of course, whilst I might come across as a grumpy, old, anti-Christmas curmudgeon, the fact is that, on the whole, I approve even if its worst excesses  do irritate enormously.  Even so, and particularly in this snapping, snarling era, any event that promotes goodwill and friendliness, albeit in a shortest of short truces, is to be welcomed.

 

 

What the hell happened to Monday?

I had lined up a row of excuses to explain my absence yesterday but the fact of the matter is that what with this, that and the other I completely forgot it was Monday!  All this Xmas stuff plays havoc with my sense of order.  Yesterday morning I was hauled off to the supermarket for shopping duties and I can tell you - it was hell, sheer hell!  Where do all these 'Peeps' come from?  Anyway you will be pleased to know that I battled on bravely through the hordes and I did not panic when I lost the 'Memsahib' four times!  Next year, I'm cancelling Xmas!

Anyway, by way of recompense I am attaching some 'Funnies' which, of course, are fairly filthy and thus not at all in the spirit of Xmas!

A businessman in the first-class cabin decided to chat up the , gorgeous flight attendant:

"What is your name?"

Flight Attendant: "Angela Benz, sir.” 

Businessman: "Lovely name ... any relation to Mercedes-Benz?"

Flight Attendant: "Yes sir, very close."

Businessman: "How close?"

Flight Attendant: "Same price.

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A woman, angry because her husband was late coming home again, decided to leave a note, saying, "I've had enough and have left you...don't bother coming after me" Then she hid under the bed to see his reaction.

After a short while the husband comes home and she could hear him in the kitchen before he comes into the bedroom. She could see him walk towards the dresser and pick up the note...

After a few minutes he wrote something on it before picking up the phone and calling someone... "She's finally gone...yeah I know, about bloody time, I'm coming to see you, put on that sexy French nightie. I love you...can't wait to see you...we'll do all the naughty things you like."

He hung up, grabbed his keys and left.

She heard the car drive off as she came out from under the bed. Seething with rage and with tears in her eyes she grabbed the note to see what he wrote..."I can see your feet. We're outta bread: be back in five minutes."

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A Maori bloke goes down to the Melbourne wharf looking for work and comes up to the captain of a fishing boat and says,'Hey Capt'n got any work for Me?'

The captain gives him a 28 page job application and says 'Fill this out and bring it back to me'. So two days later the Maori brings it back and gives it to the Captain.

The captain takes a quick look at it and says 'OK, you're hired, now go on board and find something to do..'

Just then, this Sudanese guy comes up to the captain and says, 'Looka work, needa work.'

The captain tells him 'OK you're hired.'

The Maori is standing right there and asks the captain 'Hey, you made me fill out a 28 page job application and you just hired this guy like that, Why?"

Captain replies 'He's got an honest face'.

The Maori sighs and walks onto the boat, all upset.

A few days later, they're out to sea and the Maori is up in the crow's nest looking for reefs and the Sudanese guy is down on the deck mopping the deck. Just then, this huge wave comes along and washes the Sudanese guy overboard.

The Maori gets down out of the crow's nest and walks into the Captain's' office and says:

"Remember that Sudanese guy you hired with the honest face?

Well, he just fucked off with your mop!"

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As a butcher is shooing a dog from his shop, he sees $20 and a note in his mouth, reading:” Ten lamb chops, please."

Amazed, he takes the money, puts a bag of chops in the dog's mouth, and quickly closes the shop. He follows the dog and watches him wait for a green light, look both ways, then trots across the road to a bus stop.

The dog checks the timetable and sits on the bench. When a bus arrives, he walks around to the front and looks at the number, then boards the bus. The butcher follows, dumbstruck. As the bus travels out into the suburbs, the dog takes in the scenery. After a while he stands on his back paws to push the "stop" bell, and then the butcher follows him off. The dog runs up to a house and drops his bag on the step.

He barks repeatedly. No answer.

He goes back down the path, takes a big run, and throws himself (whap!) against the door. He does this again and again. No answer. So he jumps on a wall, walks around the garden, barks repeatedly at a window, jumps off, and waits at the front door.

Eventually a small guy opens it and starts cursing and shouting at the dog.

The butcher runs up and screams at the guy: "What the hell are you doing? This dog's a genius!”

The owner responds,

"Genius, my arse. It's the second time this week he's forgotten his key!"

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The church organist, Was in her eighties and had never been married. She was admired for her sweetness and kindness to all.  One afternoon the pastor came to call on her and she showed him into her quaint sitting room.  She invited him to have a seat while she prepared tea..

As he sat facing her old Hammond organ, the young minister noticed a cut glass bowl sitting on top of it.. The bowl was filled with water, and in the water floated of all things, a condom!

When she returned With tea and scones, they began to chat The pastor tried to stifle his curiosity about the bowl of water and its strange floater, but soon it got the better of him and he could no longer resist.

'Miss Beatrice', he said, 'I wonder if you would tell me about this?'  pointing to the bowl.

'Oh, yes,' she replied, 'Isn't it wonderful?  I was walking through the park a few months ago and I found this little package on the ground.
The directions said to place it on the organ, keep it wet and that it would prevent the spread of disease.  Do you know I haven't had the flu all winter.'

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Y'all enjoy an excellent Christmas - that's an order!

 

 

 

 

 

 

'SoD' descendeth and, lo, Sunday is a write off!

Actually, to be fair, it is not his fault.  Like most of you, this is a fairly busy and social time of year which precludes the careful construction of profound thoughts which you expect from this blog - sorry, did you say something?  Anyway, we're off to lunch in Sherborne with 'SoD' and his lovely lady, and with old and dear friends.

Last night we had a 'fish 'n' chip' supper at our village restaurant.  Alas, I fear that I may have had more wine than I usually drink these days and so when we returned home I found myself - or rather, I heard myself -  droning on and on about my army days.  Oh dear, what an 'A1 crasher' I can be - 'waddya mean, ya know already from reading this blog'? - but there's no-one like an ex-soldier for droning on - except, maybe, golfers, they are the worst!

Anyway, it appears to have stopped raining for the first time in days, so its off to 'Sherbers' and a pleasant lunch.  Y'all have a good day!

 

 

Oh boy, I wish I had been part of that conversation!

Mind you, given the high intelligence of the other two interlocutors, I doubt I would have said a word!  I refer to an article in the 'Speccie' which describes a meeting between Mr. Douglas Murray, of whom I have written admiring words before on this site, and "the boy from Zlin", a.k.a. Mr. Tom Stoppard.  Actually, his birth name is Tomas Straussler and he was born in Czechoslovakia (as it then was) to Jewish parents who wisely 'did a runner' when Hitler marched in, and ended up in India.  Alas, his four grandparents were not so fleet of foot and perished in the camps, and later his father died when his boat was attacked by the Japanese outside Singapore.  His mother remarried a British army officer and thus Tomas Straussler was transformed into Thomas Stoppard, one of the very greatest playwrights of this 20th/21st century.

Reading the piece, I was reminded what an enormous effect he had on my life.  I was thunderstruck decades ago when I first saw his play "EGBDF - Every Good Boy Deserves Favour".  In a way, the simplest of plays but also, in its way, a hugely intense experience.  Since that mental and artistic shock, I have seen many of his plays and because of them I was driven into my very amateurish, er, 'career' in theatre.  For me, the very greatest was, and still is, "Arcadia".  Brilliant, inventive, highly intelligent, intensely moving it is, in my humble opinion, the greatest of all his plays.

 

 

For us - and them - the war is just beginning

I had intended to provide Boris with a warning to the effect that he should not expect even a millimetre of 'give' from the 'consiglieres' of Brussels but instead he should prepare for totally intransigent 'take'!  That is the way they do things 'just over there', as I kept telling that silly woman who thought that matters could be settled 'nicely-nicely' after tea at the vicarage!  (I wonder what happened to her?)

So I trust that 'Biffa' Boris is well into training before his heavy-weight fight with the 'consiglieres' next year.  Once again, they will give nothing - nada! - rien! - zilch!  I don't altogether blame them, after all, it is we Brits who are spoiling their tea-party, so why should they?  According to reports  - yeeeeees, quite! - Boris, perhaps with a little help from his friend and trainer, Dominic Cummings, is telling the EU that Britain has no intention of 'kowtow-ing' to their demand for automatic acceptance of EU 'rules 'n' regs'.  That should set the talks off to a frigid start!

Even so, given the mountains of 'wiffle-waffle' the Europeans would love to drown us in, it is perhaps best to start with a clear table and with each party knowing the basic position of the other.  Thus, if no agreement is possible then it's off to a Free Trade world on WTO standards. HURRAH!

 

 

I know it's a 'Boris Xmas' but why am I worried?

Well, it's no good me scorning and scolding 'Jezza' and his 'polit-bureau' for promising to spend money like a drunken sailor - er, no offence intended JK!  - if I then croon and swoon when Boris comes in and promises to do exactly the same!  Yes, indeed, there are some 'yuuuuuuuge' infrastructure projects that may be required in different parts of the country but - 'as any fule do no!' - politicians are the very worst at choosing which ones.  Also, of course, the 'yuuuuuuuge' infrastructure builders do not give a flying fig what happens where because they will be pocketing the tax-payers' cash as fast as they can.  Master Dominic Cummings, the Guru in Chief to Boris, is a very clever and imaginative fellow but do I trust his judgment - entirely?

We need to remember that the 'MLP', the new 'Marxist Labour Party' of Britian, is not dead and buried.  Electorally, it is as dead as the Dodo but it still exists, it breathes, it imagines and it plans from its still substantial base inside the husk of the old Labour Party.  One of the priorities for 'Boris and Co' is to make absolutely sure that they spend our money wisely and well.  Even more so when one considers that much of it will be borrowed and not necessarilly from sources friendly to this country!

I know, I know, you're thinking, "Oh ye of little faith" and you're right, I do not have much faith because I have been through all this borrowing and spending and indebtedness before - in fact, I'm still paying for it via my taxes!  So box clever, Boris, and remember Kipling's wise advice: "Softly, softly catchee monkey!"

 

 

 

R.I.P. General Sir Thomas Pearson, 1914-2019

Do the sums and you will see that this extraordinary soldier, General Sir Thomas Pearson, lived through an impressive and highly dangerous 105 years!  Apart from being an exceedingly competent officer, he was also, dammit, exceedingly handsome!

A portrait of Pearson by Dorothy Wilding on his commission into the Rifle Brigade

His WWII record, in which he served with the Paras, was, shall we say, 'interesting'!  But his post-war record also included participation in various potential hot-spots.  This incident seems fairly typical and it was with some wry amusement that I noticed that he was accompanied by Anthony Farrar-Hockley who a few years later was my Colonel:

In April 1957 there was an attempted military coup in Jordan. The Brigade was in a tented camp in Cyprus and was scrambled at short notice to fly to Amman. When Israel denied overflying rights, all the aircraft were ordered to return.

Brigadier Pearson, however, with a nod to Nelson, reported that his radio had malfunctioned and flew on alone to Amman. After the Beverley [transport aircraft] landed at the airfield, an anti-tank gun was unloaded. Pearson and Anthony Farrar-Hockley called for a table and chairs and were watched by a large, restive crowd while, with every appearance of sangfroid, they sipped their gin and tonics.

The operation could have turned out badly, but the use of bluff, moral force and the threat of reinforcements on the way deterred the rebels and played a notable part in putting an end to the uprising and preserving King Hussein’s rule.

Four years later, I was Col. Farrar-Hockley's radio operator so I am even more thankful that I never saw active service with him!  Anyway, it is worth reading the Telegraph obit in full to learn what an incredible soldier Gen. Pearson was.  

Sir, I salute you!