In the United States, a presidential candidate who polled less than one per cent of the vote in the recent election has called for a recount in at least three states; the results were decisive, there is no evidence of fraud and Jill Stein's efforts reflect only pique, an urge for self-publicity and an effort to disrupt and delay the clearly expressed will of a US electorate voting under a long-established electoral college system.
Christ, sometimes I think the walls of my life are papered with Jill Steins.
To add to this Alice in Wonderland politics the vile Clintons have lent their own support and no doubt their slush-fund resources to Stein, despite the fact that up until election night they were castigating Donald Trump for his own promise to challenge a result which he considered illegitimate. In the states whose results Stein is challenging there is no evidence of vote-rigging and the differences between candidates' total votes are not so narrow in themselves as to merit a recount.
The Clintons, of course, will stop at absolurely nothing, would encourage mayhem, even a civil war if it led to the fulfilment of their ambition;
that Hillary is untreatably insane
and that Spunky Bill is dying before our eyes.........
even heavily made-up,
he bears long-unhealed lesions on face,
lips and neck, the bags under his eyes are green and purple and extend into his nose,
symptoms consistent with Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome.
It is not a moralistic view of a fatal illness which should debar Spunky Bill from a second presidency, just common sense.
Spunky Bill made in excess of 20 logged flights on the Lolita Express, the airliner owned by Prince Andrew's child molester friend, Jeffrey Epstein.
You have to wonder why, don't you?
Devoted family man, dutiful husband, charity worker;
why is he making regular trips to a privately-owned, offshore child brothel?
But then you might as well ask why he officated at the wedding of Huma Abedein to serial - and now child - sex offender Anthony Wiener,
I now pronounce you man and victim.
You may now spunk on the bride's dress and offer her a cee-gar.
might as well ask why Abedein's first-ever job in government was as close body-woman and consigliere-islamista to the First Lady of the United States. Huma's only previous experience had been working on the newspaper of the Muslim Brotherhood.
........the Clintons' tide of filth would make a more responsible and self-aware nation pull itself together, get behind their lawfully elected president and help him to moderate his worse characteristics, reminding itself that he at least has not tortured and massacred any Muslims, has not cruelly imprisoned a generation of three-strikes-and-you're-out blacks; has not pardoned and re-armed the organised criminal financial terrorists of Wall Street; has not massively increased Uncle Sam's nuclear arsenal and has not presided over a lawnforcement open season on blacks, a shooting spree by redneck cops.
Despite the catastrophic failure and malfeasance of the Clinton-Obama Democrats, despite the hypocritical farce running from the cock-waving Kennedy to the dreadful Obama, Showbiz America is still in love with them and is trying its best to get them defaulted into the White House. Showbiz, of course, is globalised and here, of course, petulant, uneducated airhead Luvvies cheer-on these anti-democratic behaviours and call them noble, idealistic, humanitarian and liberal, ignoring the fact that from Agent Orange up to today's random drone murder, the Democrats have, abroad, enthusiastically showered on the weaker the lethal benefits of pax americana.
No good saying that the occupation and rape of Iraq and Afghanistan, and the support of Suadi domestic and foreign terrorism are Bushisms, most Democrats voted for them enthusiastically. No Democrat politician has called-out the Bush-Saud connection, none have even queried the mysterious melting of WTC7 and the fact that during the air-travel shutdown of 9/11 only rich Saudis were able to take to the US skies and fly, homeward bound. The Americans have not even had the scanty benefit of a Chilcott-style investigation of
political insiders grown hugely rich on mass murder.
Well, yes, I simply say to the peepul ov Brittun that I will do whatever GlobaCorp tells me to do.
No, I simply say that the peepul ov Brittun are intensely relaxed about wimmen being stoned and hacked to death if they dare to get themselves raped. It's why |I'm a Christian.
There are people, in MediaMinster, who long for a return to Clinton-Blairism, who passionately believe that merely for the colour of his skin, the rotten crook, Obama, is great. That's what a sensible, literate fellow would call racism; that Obama, himself, does not refute this arrant and offensive nonsense indicates how very far short of greatness he falls, currently and future-historically Legacy, my arse.
Here, in Scotland, the best part of England, a legitimately conducted referendum overwhelmingly rejected the idea of Scottish national independence; that this decision was correct in every aspect is actually irrelevant, it was democratically arrived at,
yet an administration calling itself government has failed to recognise it and spends its every waking, angry moment trying to overturn the choice. As in the States, democracy is only OK when it produces a result which satisfies the minority, otherwise it is mistaken, foolish, stupid and wicked.
Contemptuously ignoring the majority, almost the entire Scottish press pack makes no mention of the Tribesmen's anti-democratic, misanthropic and racist heart.
Any British national government worth its salt would - metaphorically, at least - send the tanks in to Holyrood and insist that instead of preaching hatred, Ms Gnasher's administration should attend, instead, to its administrative failures. NHS Scotland, overseen by one of Gnasher's girlfriends,
Shona and husband Hosie, in better days, before he jumped on some MediaMinster bicycle.
Hide it in a hiding place, where no-one ever goes, hen.
Gnasher, using the Holyrood chamber to comfort the betrayed Mrs Robinson
is in crisis, mainly due to bad management but compounded, too, by endless reorganisation of Health into Health and Social care and its attendant turf and career wars; staff are ridiculously overworked and under-resourced whilst the SNP's NHS management is predictably rotten and Sicilian; education standards have plumetted and transport is chaotic; a protracted freezing of council tax has seen infrastructure collapse, once shining towns and cities now resemble Detroit.
Gnasher's answer to her disastrous shortcomings - never had a job in her angry wee life, only ever been a deranged separatist, why on Earth would she be able to administer a country of five million - is to practically abolish local government and accountability, as she has with what is laughingly called Police Scotland, and appoint a dozen or so regional administrators, beholden to her for their jobs. Y'know, Mussolini-ism. Horrible little fucking bastard.
Mrs Askey, the unelected national prime minister, says nothing.
And we go now to the studios of PBC News
where Huw Welshman has this for us.
Yes, and Good Evening from the Six O' Clock News, with me, Huw Welshman.
And tonight's top story is the remarkable triumph
- some would call it a veritable national salvation, although I'm certainly not one of them, look you, I should fucking co-co - of Princess Teeth, in the Richmond by-election, where she unseated richboy Zac Goldsmith.
First of all Princess Teeth, congratulations, and you've only just become a ShitEater, haven't you? Sorry, I mean a DogShooter, course I do. What was it attracted you to this shower of degenrates in the first place?
Well, thanks Huw, and first of all I know nothing of politics, I only became a member of my party - is it the LibDems, OK, woddevah - afew weeks ago; no, I wasn't a member of politics until a few months back and then I thought, fuck me, make the right noises and I could be on a hundred grand a year. And apart from that I am truly a liberal, myself, I believe in foreigners, yes and buggery too, it's the mark of the country I love, the country I want back.
And my leader, Susan Farron, he is the very great man of British politics, and now, after my victory, the clear leader of the opposition.
But, Princess Teeth, that's all very well, but what about Cyril Smith, and the little kiddies?
And what about Clement Freud and the little kiddies?
Ye-e-sss, Her Majesty has seen fit to award me the Order of the Beast, for my services to child molestation, ye-e-essss and the PBC, who were kind enough to give me so much employment.
And what about Straight Simon Hughes and his infamous Queerbashing?
And what about Jeremy Thorpe and the rentboy?
And what about Charlie Kennedy and the dipsomania ?
And what about Chris Huhne and his going to prison for lying his smarmy arse off, not just to his loony Mrs - a regular commentator, I must say, for us here on the PBC, on economics matters -
but to parliament, to the police, to every bastard, in fact?
And what was it about Mark Oaten,
that attracted you to the LibDems,
was it the shit-eating from a rentboy's arsehole
or was it his simultaneous firm, uncompromisingly
ethical stance on what we might call pussy-prostitution?
Well, he did have hair-loss issues to contend with, didn't he?
And if his wife can stand-by him I just jolly well think that we as parliamentarians should, also.
That's the kind of Britain I love and want back.
A Britain that is tolerant of others' choices, apart from Brexiteers and other stupid racists, obviously.
And your fat minder, there,
Big Al Carmichael, the one who's been grooming you, he's a crook, too, isn't he...
dragged through the Scottish courts
and humiliated by the Tribesmen.
Humiliated, did you say, humiliated, a Liberal Democrat?
I might know fuck all about politics or anything else, Huw, but I do know that LibDems don't do humiliation.
And a politician being described as a crook and a liar, Huw,
that's not how we do politics in my kingdom of Orkney.
Princess Teeth, you have said you now have a mandate to overturn the result of the Euro referendum.
How's that?
Well, clearly, Huw, I won the by-election.
But the Brexiteers won the referendum.
Yes but only just and anyway they are all racist and stupid.
And my victory was overwhelming.
Well, actually, Princess, you won forty-eight per cent of your vote, didn't you? You only just won.
And the so-called Brexiteers won fifty-one per cent of theirs. So they are actually more convincingly democratically mandated than you, aren't they? And viewers will want to know whats so special about 20,000 disgruntled Tories in Richmond that outweighs the votes of seventeen million all over the country.
I mean, how is that democracy?
Well, Huw, I'm not here to trade statistics.
The fact of the matter is that the people of Richmond have spoken and my mandate is to overturn the referendum.
But what about the fact that you got forty-nine per cent of the vote and you are now determined to trash the forty-five per cent who voted for other candidates, what about them?
I think, Huw, if may interrupt, as leader of the now nine-strong LibDem party, and just say that under my leadership we are now, quite historically, actually Her Majesty's loyal opposition, and I assure your viewers that we will overturn the Euro referendum;
it's why we are called democrats, and it is our duty to correct voters when they, as they have in this case, get things very, very wrong.
And what about the rumour that your party bribed the Greens, all one of them, not to field a candidate against you, and split the anti-Brexit vote ?
Well, Huw, anyone who knows the Liberal Democrats, and understands our policy of giving solemn and binding undertakings to the public will be able to judge for themselves as to whether or not we are capable of things like that.
That was the arse-worm, Susan Farron, there for us, talking, as usual, like a cunt, or thinking that you are all cunts, or probably both, out there, beyond MediaMinster. 'Salright for me, I get paid for putting up with the scrawny little knobhead but you actually pay money to watch me interview him. It's the weather, now, with Jayne Tits. Yeah, I know, it's on about every fifteen fucking minutes. Drives me fucking mental.
After that we have a special programme for you, a special called Strictly Supreme Courting.
Charting the Showbizzing of Everything, we will see a gang of wretched old lawyers, now given the legal equivalent of BAFTAs and Oscars and Emmys, Lord Justices Slag, all showboating their arses off.
We join them now as they consider the matter of
HM Government v. Mr Jamie Oliver et al
and Lord Justice Mervyn Slag seeks clarity from counsel on a crucial legal issue.
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah I am in some difficulty here, Mr Eadie, and seek your clarification.
My lord, I stand ready to be paid lots of money,
I mean to assist the Court.
Yes, I'm grateful, and perhaps you would be kind enough to explain the situation, ipso facto, of the celebrated and learned television cook, Mr Jamie Oliver, vis a vis this wholly unlawful referendum which inter alia you persist in defending.
Mr Jamie Oliver, my lord?
Yes, you must know him, surely, Mrs Lord Justice Slag never misses one of his shows on the Food Channel.
The Food Channel, my lord?
Yes, and probably the Yesterday Channel, too.
And one I verily believe to be called David, Channel David.
I am afraid your lordship has the advantage over me.
I have never heard of any of those things.
Well, if I may interject here..... ?
I am grateful to my brother judge.
Mr Oliver is a most accomplished and, one must say, jolly entertaining cook; and he has said that if Britain votes to leave the European Union he will leave the country.
Taking all of his rather clever recipes with him.
And my lordship's point is....?
Well, my point is merely that the court must proceed on the basis of a fortiori, meaning that because one fact is true, that a second related and included fact must also be true. Ergo, ipso facto, it follows that if Maestro Oliver departs the country then not only will the stupid people have won a victory a propos the referendum but they will have also driven from our shores a cook of rare and valuable insight.
I so love how he puts a chili or two in absolutely everything, fera good bitta heat, as he says, and how he drizzles some really scrumpshus olive oil over everything
and then bish-bash-bosh, everyfin's lubbly-jubbly, delish, an' I'm really lovin' all them flavours.
And so on ad infinitum.
I think your lordhip means ad nauseum.
I am sure I speak for the entire Strictly Supreme Court when I remind learned counsel for this proposed act of high treason that it is not a matter for levity, the fact that so many rich and famous people grow lamenatious at the prospect of poor people having their voices heard, much less obeyed.
Chef Oliver
Not Brexit, I'm so gutted.
and his friends....
A marketing expert, some fat, stupid cunt, an ageing bimbo.
and a dirty, filthy bastard who must have, by his contempt for food hygiene, spread a national plague of irritable bowel syndrome, the NHS should sequestrate his fortune; if he'd ever worked in a proper kitchen he'd have been down the road, muttering. That this horrible dirty, greedy bastard threatens to leave the country should elections not proceed as he wishes, well, as snesible people are now saying about those who make such threats - well, go on, then, fuck off, nobody cares.
Prominent anti-democrats, the celebrity fascists.
.......I mean, now that we are all in showbusiness, these and other worthless celebrities like them must be heard.
Otherwise, in legal terminology, nos omnes futatum, we're all fucked
The Court will rise to not consider its verdict.
I can be contacted through my agent, who will consider any TeeVee opportunity in line with my very high standards of greed.
That was Stricly Supreme Courting there, and it'll be back in the New Year.
You have to ask though, don't you, if every time a government was elected all the people who didn't vote for it, took everybody who did vote for it to the Supreme Court, then what the fuck would happen?
I mean, isn't it, nobody in the country voted for a Coalition government, it wasn't even an option, look you, where was this gobby bitch, then?
Over 'ere, dahlin' over 'ere!
Getya tits out luv? Fer the cameras?
G'wan, y'know ya wanna.
Lean forward a bit, luv; smile now.
I simply don't understand this.
Who is this person and why are the Courts even entertaining her? Her action is entirely political, aimed at overturning - or delaying and disrupting to the point of failure - a legally arrived-at national decision. If there are pinstriped Tory lawyer, mealymouthed lickspittle fuckpig spiv laws preventing the swift enactment of the so-called Article 50 then the Court should strike them down. Instead, like a gang of Lilliputians, their lordships pompously dance on pinheads, anxious to persuade a watching nation of their cleverness. Ensuring the passage of the democratically expressed will of the people should be their very first duty and priority; if they cannot do that they cannot do anything. They should mind that they are not dancing on the head of a pin but on the end of a rope, pompous gits.
And just when you thought the comedy was finished it's over now to Question Time, with David Bullingdon
I was proud to wear uniform of Bullingdon Club, admits David Dimbleby
Being a former member of the Bullingdon Club is nothing to be ashamed of, David Dimbleby, the BBC broadcaster, has insisted. However, he claims that the exploits of his day did not resemble the “disgusting, disgraceful” behaviour of Boris Johnson.
from the Filthograph.
and probably a shitload of other tossers.
Just as long as they don't have that pissawful Sue woman.
Do you know viewers, the PBC have been finding shit shows for her since she left Oxford fucking decades ago, none of them any fucking good, all the appeal of rectal surgery, she has, Pissawful Sue,
anybody else and they'd a been dropped decades ago, say it was someone from Merthyr Tydfil fucking Poly, look you, they'd a been dropped like a hot potato, but not Pissawful Sue. Probly threatened them with an LGBTQ discrimination case unless they kept her on indefinitely. They do that, you know, the homos. And now, God fucking help us, she's struck dyke paydirt with that pastry show, the one with the dug-up old lady, and that scouse git, the one with the highlights and the snuffler's beard, Paul Puddings'n'Pies, that's him, a narcissistic fuckwit, a painted old hag and a sneery carpet muncher. No, no, it's not me, dwelling on her lesbianism, it's her. She, well, none of them, can pass five minutes without mentioning it, as though anybody could give two fucks.
Sue Mack-Gregor, though, and Kate Adie, they were proper wimmen, succeeding in a man's world, not pissing themselves over chocolate fucking eclairs.
Anyway, Question Time, it's on now.
And Will Self, you're a worthless, Oxbridge junky layabout,
you are famously skilled at, well, at being lugubrious and arsebleedingly pretentious, what's your considered view on the Brexit error and how it might be remedied?
Well its obvious, David, isn't it?
All these people, Nigels's lot,
they all just wanna live in the past, don't they?
They want to reinvent spinsters. And bicycles. And that's why they voted for Brexit. To live vicariously although contemporaneously in the past. That's all they talk about, the past.....
But let's be fair, as a light entertainer yourself, didn't you famously live in the past when you were doing that awful show,
Grumpy Old Men?
You were just endlessly complaining that Fings Ain't Wot They Used T'be. Weren't you? Everything modern was wrong, wasn't it, everything?
Yes, David, but as you know, I was only doing it for money, I didn't mean it. I don't actually, existentially speaking, mean anything. I just say things in order to put a decent claret on the table, perhaps the odd bag of heroin; for the money.....
Rather as you are doing this edition of Question Time? And, indeed, all your other media appearances?
Where you pontificate on the inadequacies of ordinary people?
Well, you may say that, David, you may say that.
Well, yes, I do say that.
But the difference between me, as a performing artist, and all those thick people from Northern, who merely produce goods and services, is that I say what I am paid to say, or will make people laugh, whereas, David, they say what they mean. And let's face it, what sort of a world would it be if we listened to people like them?
-------------------------------
I believe in the idea of the Law; it's just that I don't believe in lawyers; they are, largely, vermin; there's the odd good one, like there's the odd good policeman, but mostly they are vermin. By lawyers, I mean to include judges, or jurists as they like to call themselves. I have met a few close-up and I cannot think of a good judge in my lifetime and working on m. alphons's favourite maxim about the scum rising to the top I am inclined to believe that the more senior the judge the more of a bent arsehole he or she is likely to be and that every member of the Supreme Court should declare any European interests they may have, be they holiday homes or family members working or residing in Europe. Most senior judges will be public school/Oxbridge and thus almost congenitally opposed to upholding the rights of those outside the charmed circle of celebrityhood. The Brexit matter should not even be in the courts; that it is being decided by people like this
is an outrage.
As for obstructive, anti-democratic MPs on all sides, their position is laughable. Considering the feelings of the other forty-eight per cent my arse. When did we ever see a government do that? The minute a government is elected, even with a minority of the popular vote, it just does whatever the fuck it wants and bollocks to everybody else. And as we saw with Junky George and Call Him Dave and the wretched Clegg, they just went ahead and even did shit that they'd never mentioned doing or said that they would never do - Lansley's immediate moves towards privatisation of the health service, Osborne's rise in VAT, Cameron's gay marriage and the full frontal assault on disabled people, on behalf of fit and wealthy, crooked bankers.
Jill Stein should be jailed for causing a public nuisance. The Clintons should be jailed for any number of offences. The International Court should arrest Tony'n'Imelda and confiscate their Proceeds of Crime fortune, pending their trial. Gnasher should be warned that she faces direct rule unless she stops acting like a banana republic dictator; Mr Tiny Speaker should call Susan Farron in for a quiet but meaningful word and Mrs Askey should proceed without any further delay to implement the wishes of the majority of British people.
Instead, we shall see more of the same, until a dread alliance of airhead celebrity, bent lawyers, bent hacks and even more bent legislators gets its own way.
Either that or we'll have a war.
I know which I'd prefer.