Saturday, December 30, 2006

U.S. Pornography Usage Drops To All-Time Low as Saddam Hussein Executed
"Oh Yeah, Baby, Work It, Work That Thing, Bitch" cry American bloggers
Wired Magazine,
30th December 2006


Webmasters of leading pornographic sites were in uproar today as traffic dropped to record lows following the execution of Iraqi tyrant Saddam Hussein.

"It's a disgrace," said one leading pornographer, who declined to be named. "How's an honest man supposed to earn a living when our punters keep being distracted by the quasi- judicial hanging of Middle-Eastern mass-murderering despots?"

Prominent American bloggers were unrepentant, however, splattering their posts with onanistic superlatives and orgasmic hyperbole.

"Oh God, Oh God, CNN reports a witness described "fear on his face.", panted blogger and journalist Jules Crittenden. "Yes, yes, I've filled my shot brass and raised it... Oh Jesus, don't be shy about raising a glass yourself. The world is a better place rid of this filthy murderer. This filthy, dirty, nasty little murdering strumpet..."

Panic spread amongst purveyors of online erotica as it became apparent that Saddamasturbation was not a passing fad, but was likely to continue well into the New Year.

"The punters are so busy beating their political opponents with the cold, floppy phallus of the dead dictator that they won't be back flogging themselves over our products for weeks", said one webmaster.

"I've got a wife and kids to feed, what am I supposed to do? I'm ruined."

The phenomenon showed no sign of abating in the short-term, with thousands of American right-wingers bashing themselves insensible over the corpse of the genocidal maniac Hussein.

"Mmmm, mmmm, oh fuck yes, the Butcher of Baghdad who murdered and tortured and raped hundreds of thousands of Iraqis is dead today and the left is Upset?", puffed the Gateway Pundit,

"Oh Christ, yes, that's it, right there, please, yes... Oh, don't ever allow a Leftist to lecture you on human rights again... Ever... Oh God, oh Jesus...

"Oh my Lord, oh, my Lord! God, oh God, please help those sick, sick, depraved, filthy, perverted people."

Experts predict that Saddam-related self-abuse will likely abate in early 2007.

Friday, December 29, 2006

The Biggest Story Of The Year

I hear a lot from other bloggers about the "self-correcting mechanism" of the blogosphere - how blogs are superior to boring old media such as newspapers and television news because they are constantly fact-checked and edited for truth.

If you really believe this, then I suggest you get yourself over to the Belmont Club and take a long hard look at what's being said there.

Then look at the comments, and be aware that only those with Blogger accounts can contribute.

Thursday, December 28, 2006

Saddam Issues Response To Death Sentence
BBC News, 28th December 2006

A Brand-Spanking New Year

Kicking back in front of the TV this afternoon, Mrs. Rodent and I were treated to an ad for FHM's High Street Honeys - Dance Workout.

Just the thing to jerk oneself out of the post-Christmas malaise, this should help tug anyone back to full fitness - for a preview of the Honeys' highly-appropriate single I Touch Myself, click here.

It's good to see that, as soon as Christmas is over, the Lamb of God is forgotten and the Beast With One Back rules supreme once more.

Fitness enthusiasts should note, however, that the internet provides ample opportunity to peruse the well-toned hips and thighs of similar Honeys, and all for free.

You can tell the internet that it's for your girlfriend if you like, although it's unlikely to care one way or the other.

Tuesday, December 26, 2006

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I've said it before, but I just don't think it's appropriate for the blogosphere's leading intellectuals to mock the mentally infirm.

Really, citizen journalism should mean something more than poking fun at those who have serious brain disorders.

Shame on them, to sink so crassly to the lowest common denominator.

Sunday, December 24, 2006

The True Meaning of Christmas

The time of the year has come at last when those of us holding no religious beliefs gather to celebrate nonetheless in the welcoming company of friends and relatives.

Despite my complete disbelief in the basic truth of the Bible itself, I'm more than happy to join in the revelry with my Christian countrymen and toast their health.

Some people find Christmas to be a difficult time, confined in close quarters with fractious aunties and sarcastic siblings, but I have no such difficulties. I find that, even in such trying times, I can put aside such family feuds and petty discord, and focus on what Christmas really means to secularists: Drink.

Drink! Sweet nectar of the nagged, Ambrosia of the agitated! O hallowed haven of the hen-pecked!

Your mother's snide put-downs will mean little if you cannot understand them, and the squabbles of the family unit are far easier dealt with when unconscious.

So, I say, let us raise a glass to Christmas, the one time of the year when drunkenness and disorder are not only acceptable, but compulsory!



The Bevvy, in all its glory

And to all regular readers and commenters, a Merry Christmas all round. I'll meet you back here for ten minutes' peace and quiet on Boxing Day.

Mine's a treble!


Friday, December 22, 2006

Free Speech and Human Reichs

Holocaust denying faux-historian David Irving is in the news again, following his release from an Austrian jail. No doubt his comments today will cause something of a fuhrer.

He's using his newfound Liebensraum to complain bitterly about his treatment, alleging a "world-wide attempt to silence" him.

Comically, he's decrying Austria's "Stalinist legislation" for criminalising holocaust denial - one wonders why he didn't use the word "fascist" instead.

He still insists upon referring to himself as an "historian" deserving of respect, which is entertaining. My academic credentials are far more impressive than his, and regular readers will know that I'm a mongoose-brained ignoramus with the analytical skills of a cabbage.

Nonetheless, Irving has whinged about being treated with "the utmost contempt" by the Austrians and the Germans. I quite agree, and I think they've probably done him a favour.

At least he'll be prepared for the more withering contempt of the British.

The Blog Meme - Santa's Chewing Gum

I've been tagged again by Not Saussure to participate in a meme - this time, it's "7 best things I did this year".

No messing about -

7. Gave aid and comfort to the enemy.

Well, supported Barcelona against Arsenal in the European Cup Final.

The two are the same thing in some people's minds.

6. Listened to the late Desmond Dekker even more than usual.

And so should you.

5. Put a pound on Portugal to beat England in the World Cup.

Good odds, rather than prejudice.

4. Gave money to the NSPCC.

They said that if I didn't, little Brian would've died.

I hope they don't start threatening to nail the poor little sucker to the ceiling, or I'll be bankrupt.

3. Wised up to the chicanery of alligators.

Why are they called alligators?

Do they alligate? Are they known to make allegations?

Just what the hell are they trying to pull here?

I think we should be told.

2. Visited Amsterdam.

I think so, at least. I have pictures that point towards that conclusion.

1. Took the piss out of anyone and everyone

Tony Blair, Scottish Nationalists, Chavez and Chomsky, The Pope, Fidel Castro, Little Green Footballs, Christopher Hitchens, George W. Bush, Bloggers, Mel Gibson, Creationists, Holocaust Deniers, Pinochet and Thatcher, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Neo-Nazi hooligans, Michael Stone, Donald Rumsfeld, Europhobes, Suicidal celebrities, Muslim fundamentalists, Xenophobes, French Nazis, God botherers, Ariel Sharon, Mobile phone users, Steve Irwin, Art lovers, Ann Coulter, Feminists, Glaswegians, Chechen terrorist Shamil Basayev, Americans and Big Brother devotees.
I'll just tag John Bitches for this one, since he seems to like this kind of thing.

Thursday, December 21, 2006

D.I.Y. Is Simply Beyond My Ken

I'm thinking of making a few changes round these parts, all these aching white expanses are starting to give me a headache.

I was considering a kind of Nazi-Abattoir-Lake-of-Fire feel, to cheer me up in the mornings, but I'm open to suggestions.

And I know the drill - pictures of naked girls to attract male readers, pictures of half-naked men to attract the ladies.

All that stuff just depresses me, since my face would fit best if I spent my time jumping out from under bridges to sexually harrass unsuspecting billy-goats.

I'm tempted to go for an "infernal bacchanalia" theme, but I don't know how to make cackling familiars caper around the border shitting brimstone.

If only I'd listened in computer studies rather than spending lessons looking up rude words on the spellchecker. I'd be better at html, but my talent for verbal abuse would really have suffered.

Ach, the agony of choice...

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

The Political Theory Of Mr. Tony

"The art of leadership is learning to take the decisions," he said. "Sometimes you are right, sometimes you are wrong. Some of the decisions are very difficult and someone always gets angry.

"When I first started in politics, I wanted to please everyone, and you can't please everyone and you learn that the best thing is to do what you think is right and everyone can make their judgment.

"That's the theory of Mr Tony - which I prefer to 'prime minister', let me tell you."

Thus spake Anthony Blair, Prime Minister of Great Britain, in the United Arab Emirates yesterday.

All in all, a pretty dull theory - "the art of leadership is making decisions"?

Machiavelli, it's not.

I much prefer Richard Nixon's Madman Theory, which held that maximum political and military advantage could be gained by convincing your enemies that you are dangerously irrational and liable to press the nuclear button at any second.

Blair's surely equal to this task, if his behaviour in the last five years is anything to go by. I reckon he'd gain far more political clout with the White House if he stopped nodding and smiling on his visits.

He'd earn more respect if he started liberally sprinkling his speeches before the American media with sexual swearwords, snarling and spitting at low-level functionaries when they displeased him.

If a political heavyweight such as Jacques Chirac challenged him during negotiations on the Common Agricultural Policy, he'd be best to hold his jacket open to make himself appear as large as possible and charge, roaring at the top of his voice.

Let them hate you, so long as they fear you.

Oh, wait. I might be mixing up Richard Nixon with Emperor Caligula here.

You'd be amazed at how often that happens.



Mister T, snorting, preparing to pounce

"Christmas Truce" Halts Hostilities In Association Football
25th December 1914, Ypres, Flanders

All over Europe, hostilities have ceased in an unofficial "truce" in national association football leagues for a brief five-year period of brutal trench warfare.

From John O'Groats to Gallipoli, soccer players set aside their boots and reached out across the battlefield to throttle, bludgeon and stab each other.

"It was beautiful," said Albert Hopkins, centre-forward for the Woolwich Arsenal, "This will be the most memorable Christmas I've ever spent or likely to spend: since about tea time yesterday I don't think anyone has dared pop their heads above the top of the trench. We'll be back slogging away in the FA Cup soon enough, so we've enjoyed a break somewhere the mud isn't quite as deep."

Gerhard Maier, sweeper for VFB Stuttgart, agreed. "Our machine-guns lit up the trenches and gave them a very Christmassy feel. It's a relief to get away from the continual threat of death and injury in the Bundesliga."

The spirit of Christmas was felt all along the Western Front as the fierce adversaries exchanged gifts of mustard gas and artillery shells.

"We know that it won't be long before we're back fighting tooth and nail for 50-50 balls, with sliding tackles from behind," said Bon Accord goalkeeper Andrew Lornie. "It's good to get a break from the horrors of first-division football to do sentry duty in the snow."

"I can barely believe that just a couple of months ago we were playing the Germans in an international challenge match, and now we've got the chance to shoot them through the lungs."

It is anticipated that Europe's soccer players will take to the fields once more by 1919.

Police And Thieves

A quick note on the case of Mustaf Jama, the Somali suspect in the PC Sharon Beshenivsky murder case...

Newspapers are reporting today that Mr. Jama has fled the country, passing through customs at the airport using his sister's passport while wearing a veil.

He acheived this incredible feat while the enhanced security measures following the 7/7 bombings were still in place. As anyone who had the misfortune to fly in those unpleasant months will tell you, this is something of a surprise, to say the least.

It's certainly got the internet's least reliable news source up in arms, a fact that has set my bullshit-detector pinging.

“The idea that in any circumstances you could be let through passport control wearing a veil is barely credible,” said David Davis, Shadow Home Secretary, this morning. I reckon he could be onto something there.

Who knows, this story may well be true, no security system is infallible and the cops must have passed this story to the press.

It just smacks of a confected media frenzy, is all. I'll put my hands up and admit it if I'm wrong, but I predict that soon we'll learn that this story is nonsense.

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Nice Work If You Can Get It

I see that the Americans have sworn in a new Secretary of Defence, some joker called Robert Gates.

And wouldn't you know it, his first act in office is to visit Iraq.

Typical politician, put them on the public payroll and the first thing they do is bugger off on their holidays. That Tony Blair's swanning about in Palestine as we speak, no doubt sunning himself by the pool and drinking pina coladas from the cleavages of buxom maidens.

It's a bloody scandal, so it is. You never see that Robin Cook any more, he's probably pissed-up in a vodka bar in Ayia Napa, spitting when he talks and goosing the barmaids.

At least they got rid of that malingerer David Blunkett, he never did a stroke of work. Every time I saw him on TV he was out walking his dog.


Sunday, December 17, 2006

Why I Don't Take Drugs

Someone once observed that everyone has a tequila story - an exaggerated tale that generally involves someone falling over, losing their trousers or paying an urgent visit to accident and emergency.

"I'll never drink tequila again," they announce.

Well, I can understand that. This, er, person I know had an unfortunate incident with hash that put him off for life.

Late at night, he was sitting with friends watching movies and indulging in the use of this foul drug. Conversation had reached a low ebb, shall we say - nobody had said anything for about an hour. Very sociable, that.

Passed a particularly large joint, he didn't notice as a large rock of burning hashish fell onto his lap.

He didn't notice as it burnt through his trousers and underwear, but he certainly noticed when it reached his privates.

Shrieking like a girl, he stunned his friends by leaping into the centre of the room, belching thick smoke and frantically clubbing himself in the testicles.

It's depravity of this sort that put me off forever.

Just say "No", kids.

The War On Entertainment Is Over...

... and the dullards won.

Voting has now finished in The 2006 Weblog Awards, and the UK category is particularly revealing.

Which stultifyingly dull bunch of arse would you have gone for?

The endless self-congratulatory circle-jerk at Harry's Place?

The endless self-congratulatory war-fluffing of Normblog?

Good Christ, is there some kind of embargo on entertainment in the blogosphere? I've had dental surgery that was more interesting and informative, I've had funnier bowel movements.

It's the winner that really puts the icing on this stupifyingly tedious cake, as EU Referendum walks off with forty one percent of the votes.

Presumably, this is recognition of their valiant work in disproving the media's lie that Israel was bombing Lebanon. Either that or there's a huge market for monotonous jeremiads about the evils of foreigners, the EU and lefties generally.

None of which is remotely as mind-numbing as the fifth-placed Instapundit, who is assessing the relative merits of various brands of circular sawblades.

Daily Kos runs off with "Best Blog", proving that lefties can be just as excruciatingly boring as their rivals.

And bloggers wonder why nobody gives us any respect?

Update!: I notice that EU Referendum's authors were so offended by the mockery of some guy from Edinburgh that they've seen fit to put up a post bitching about it and tickling their pissers over their victory.

I don't understand why a site of such voluminous traffic, which has served the causes of nutty propaganda so well, would be in any way bothered by anything I have to say.

Still, I thought I'd offer this in tribute to EU Referendum's sterling work in giving hardcore right-wing lunatics something to shriek about while the Israelis blasted seventeen shades of shit out of Beirut.

Look at the picture below - does anything about it seem odd?


Not at first sight, but an interesting fact is revealed if we zoom in on the detail of the image - it's been Photoshopped.

Amazing, isn't it?

How The Grinch Stole My Sense of Humour

I am David Duff I am,

England needs just such a man!


Blogger, salesman, vote for me!

Foe of liberals, foreigners and PC!


Bloody lefties, weird and wacky,

Filling the country with criminals and Pakis.


And what afflicts this sorry nation?

Stabbings, murders, degradation!


I hide in my house, afraid of crime,

These murders happen all the time.


Who knows what lies around the corner?

Muggers, killers, suicide bombers.


Kids on dope, police can't cope,

We must make criminals fear the rope!


Flog 'em, hang 'em, shoot 'em dead,

Decent types sleep safe in bed!


Execute murdering rapist scum -

Ooops, I'm sorry, I've just come!


So before I try to gull the voters,

Would you like to buy a dodgy motor?


Saturday, December 16, 2006

Razor Blades And A Noose? You Shouldn't Have!



Christmas seems to relieve lazy hacks of their responsibility to come up with inventive, creative writing. As soon as the tinsel hoves into view, every newspaper fills with lists of the year's best and worst movies, books, TV shows etc.

Why should blogs be any different?

Well, we all know what happens to the suicide rate over the holiday season, so why should the unfortunate loners of the UK be excluded from the fun?

In that spirit, I thought I'd post a list of my own, so here's my Top Three Eye-Gougingly Depressing Cultural Events of 2006.

3. The Road by Cormac McCarthy

A father and son travel a bleak highway heading towards an unknown destination in the aftermath of a horrific cataclysm which has devastated the Earth and almost annihilated humanity. The only other survivors are gangs of deranged "Blood Cultists", who will rape, kill and eat both of them if they're caught.

To give you an idea, the father spends much of the novel questioning whether he'll be able to shoot his son to spare him from a worse fate.

Reading it is like: Watching a happy toddler playing with an electric drill in the bath.

Will drive you to: Attempted suicide by insertion of the fingers into the ears, and frantic pushing for the brain.

2. Children of Men

An unspecified disaster has sterilised humanity, and no child has been born on Earth for eighteen years. Civilisation has collapsed everywhere except Britain, which has resorted to fascism to maintain order.

Relentlessly brutal, any comforting moments of warmth are indicators that an even more shocking act of violence is imminent.

Death camps, government-issue suicide pills, terrorist bombings...

Watching it is like: A front row seat at the 2006 Wide-Eyed-Puppy Kicking Contest as the contestants put on their spiked boots.

Will drive you to: Attempted suicide by dashing your skull open on the pavement.


1. United 93

A mundane domestic flight becomes an epic of horror and desperation as the passengers try to tackle shitbag hi-jackers.

Watching it is like: Watching the last panda in existence arse about in a minefield.

Will drive you to: Attempted suicide by reaching down your throat and pulling out your lungs.

Any other suggestions appreciated, but I deliberately didn't mention Red Road, in case I'm responsible for any of you watching it. Trust me, it made me want to decapitate myself by slamming my neck with the door of my car.


Friday, December 15, 2006

Those Celebrity Top Trumps

First, legendary football manager/multiculturalist "Big Ron" Atkinson.

Crime: On live national television, referred to black French footballer Marcel Desailly as "what is known in some schools as a fucking lazy thick nigger." His comment on German TV that Italian footballer Francisco Totti "looks like a little twat" paled in comparison.

Humiliation Factor: Career-ending.

Did He Admit It?: Yes

Feeble Excuse: Everyone talks like that in British football, and his teams were always stacked with black players. Didn't do him any good.




Next, a man who needs no introduction.

Crime: Kiddy-Fiddling

Humiliation Factor: High, but amazingly, not career-ending

Did He Admit It?: No.

Feeble Excuse: Kids say the funniest things.

Culture of Responsibility

"Pope Benedict has been urged to declare a day of fasting and penitence over child sex crimes by clergy in the Roman Catholic Church.

The call by the Pope's personal preacher came in a pre-Christmas sermon to the pontiff and Vatican officials."

And quite right too. The sooner these kids acknowledge their guilt in leading unsuspecting clergymen into diabolical sin, the better. The whippersnappers should use this as an opportunity to beg forgiveness of the Lord.

A bit of starvation should give them time to reflect, the little devils.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Gramps? Is That You?

Won't be posting much for the rest of the week, Christmas stuff and the like. Make free with the sidebar and the archives, if you're stuck for entertainment.

But before I head off, I've just found this on the BBC's website...

"A fossil uncovered in China suggests mammals were trying out flight at about the same time - or even earlier - than birds, the team reports in Nature.

The researchers said the squirrel-sized animal, which lived at least 125 million years ago, used a fur-covered skin membrane to glide through the air...

The resemblance is just... uncanny.

Flying Rodent

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

If History Was Written By The Losers

Today, as you may have read, marks the start of the Iranian Conference in Tehran to establish the historical truth of the Holocaust.

No doubt Iran, that enlightened oasis of investigative analysis, will provide the aryan spacious backdrop for an even-handed and intellectually rigourous examination of the evidence at hand.

And so, as Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad gives the opening statements, we're provided with a wonderful opportunity to familiarise ourselves with the delegates and assess this crack team of uberhistorians.


Dr. Billy-Joe Enwright, Ph. D
Grand High Vizier of The Inner Tabernacle,
Little Rock Chapter

Professor of the Anti-Semitic Arts at Burning Cross University, Dr. Enwright is known for his informative lectures on caucasian studies, verbal abuse and felony assault. Specialising in advanced revisionism, his doctoral thesis, The Unbearable Whiteness of the Human Being, sold thirty thousand copies, all of which were subsequently burned.

Giscard De Vichy, Bakkalaureus
Paris Institute of Modern Racial Theory


World renowned historian and propagandist Monsieur De Vichy is best known for his contention that the Nazi occupation of France is a myth promulgated by the Albanians.

Winner of the Iron Cross Award For Historical Purity, 2004

David Irving,
No Academic Qualifications,
Josefstadt Prison, Central Vienna, Austria

Writes books, likes sunlight, doing laundry and walks in the outdoors.

Dislikes sharpened toothbrushes and showers.



Ismail Gonnehbomyeh,
U. of Gaza City


A respected authority on late Ottoman architecture and suicide bombing, Mr. Gonnehbomyeh is expected to deliver an explosive speech, but is known to go to pieces unexpectedly.


Er, forget you saw this.

So, there you have it. Hopefully this ruthless group of academic stormtroopers can blitz the evidence and annex some new insights into what remains one of modern history's most uncontroversial issues.

Why I Disdain The Politics Of Envy

I note from his comment this week that econo-blogger Tim Worstall has proved so successful in his chosen field that he has relocated to the Algarve.

I'm delighted for him, and wish him all the best. There are many who indulge in small-minded, petty politics and would seek to deny those like Tim fair usage of the fruits of his labours.

I have nothing but contempt for those who indulge in the politics of envy - it is nothing more than a poverty of the political imagination, and it seeks to play upon the worst prejudices of mankind.

That said, the thought of Tim sipping Bollinger on his king-size yacht while simultaneously being fellated by dusky Iberian pornstars and wiping his arse with pedigree angora rabbits makes my fucking blood boil, I can tell you.

I've got to walk a mile through horizontal sleet to get to my shitty office job this morning.

Where's the fucking justice?

Monday, December 11, 2006

Flying Rodent's Christmas Gift

Christmas has come early for readers of Between The Hammer And The Anvil, you lucky people that you are.

So without further ado, I'd like to present your cut-out-'n'-keep Flying Rodent's Celebrity Humiliation Top Trumps!

Simply print them off, cut them out and mount them on stiff card, then while away those tedious family engagements over the festive season, thus keeping your rage in check as your brother-in-law guzzles your ten-year-old malts.

First up, we have grizzled soap veteran Gillian Taylforth...

Crime: arrested in 1992 for performing an intimate act upon her combative boyfriend in a motorway lay-by.

Humiliation Factor: Medium.

Did She Admit It?: No.

Feeble Excuse: Claimed that boyfriend had stomach ache, and she was helping him undo his belt.




Next, it's Jesus-torturing Malibu anti-semite Mel Gibson...

Crime: Drunk driving, with overtones of racial hatred.

Humiliation Factor: High.

Did He Admit It?: Yes.

Feeble Excuse: The oldest in the book - was pissed up and ornery.


Third, it's wildlife-frottering politician Ron Davies...

Crime: Caught cruising gay pick-up areas. Twice.

Humiliation Factor: For a politician? High.

Did He Admit It?: Eventually.

Feeble Excuse: Told police he was "Looking for badgers". Seriously.


And finally for this post, it has to be book-touting, double-murdering psycho OJ Simpson...

Crime: Double Homicide.

Humiliation Factor: High.

Did He Admit It?: No.

Feeble Excuse: Some Puerto-Rican guy did it. OJ just felt like going for a drive with a gun to his own head.


Watch this space for more, including Michael Barrymore, Tonya Harding, Angus Deayton and Michael Jackson...

Saturday, December 09, 2006

Nothing New Under The (Undefeated) Sun

This Blasphemous Desecration Of Our Lord's Day Must End
Times of London editorial, 11th December 1904

This modern enthusiasm for the gifting of trinkets and baubles on Our Lord and Saviour's holy day is an abomination.

Christmas is the celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ, and all respectable Christians should be in church giving thanks to God almighty for His most precious gift, His only son.

Throughout England, rather than praising Our Lord, many will choose instead to worship at the idol of Mammon, exchanging oranges, apples and nuts in blasphemous defiance of the Christian traditions that have made Great Britain great.

This pandering to the whims of blasphemers is nought but political correctness gone mad...



Thif Edict If Herefy

Ye Editorial of Ye Timef of Lancafter, 15th December 1647

Ye decifion to outlaw ye celebration of Chriftmaf if a blafphemouf outrage in ye eyef of ye LORD.

Chriftmaf if ye folemn occaffion for ye reflection on ye greatest gift of GOD, and ye Puritanf hath no right to deny ye ENTITLEMENT of ye COMMON MAN to give praise unto ye ALMIGHTY for HIF moft righteouf generofity.

It if ye politickal correcteneff gone mad...


FESTIVUS CHRISTIANES ABOMINATUS SUNT

CCCXIII

HIC FESTIVALUS CHRISTIANUS NOMINE CHRISTMAS HORRIBILIS EST.

NON FESTIVALUS CHRISTII, SED FESTIVALUS SOL INVICTUS DEUS MAXIMUS EST. CHRISTIANES DESIRAT DEUS SOL INVICTUS DELENDII.

RECTO POLITICUS EUNT DEMENTUS EST.

"Conform To My Society," Lunatic Premier Tells Electorate

Not content with banning everything in sight, Tony Blair has now declared that his patience with Britain's radical Muslims is at an end.

How he feels about "gnarly" or "bodacious" Muslims isn't entirely clear, but it's probably a safe bet that he won't be giving speeches describing them as "totally tubular" any time soon.

Well, as any amateur criminologist can tell you, it's young men between 18 and 30 that are most susceptable to extremist indoctrination.

And any amateur psychologist, or even parent, will tell you that the best way to ensure that young men will misbehave is to have powerful authority figures warn them not to.

The fact that this particular authority figure colluded in an attack on an oil-rich Muslim nation is merely the icing on the cake. Let us not forget that this is the same man who had this to say in Los Angeles earlier this year -

"The point about these interventions, however, military and otherwise, is that they were not just about changing regimes but changing the values systems governing the nations concerned. The banner was not actually "regime change", it was "values change"..."

Let's not mess about - with that statement, the PM effectively put white uniforms with red crosses on every British soldier stationed in the middle east. To disaffected young Muslim men, it's confirmation of every paranoid theory that every cranky imam in the mosques of Europe has propagandised upon since 2001.

The PM doesn't live in isolation - unlike the POTUS, he routinely hears analysis that he disagrees with. He's been presented with reports baldly stating that his policies are resulting in increased radicalisation in Britain, yet he hasn't changed his rhetoric one little bit.

I used to think it was because he was mental, and believed his own messianic bullshit. Watching his performance in the US this week, it's become clear that he can't hear these voices because he has George Bush's dick in one ear and Cheney's in the other.

There's a name for those who serve the interests of another country at the expense of their own, and it's not pleasant. It's certainly not a term that I would use lightly.

The sooner we're rid of this self-deluding fantasist, the better.

Apologies for the rant, bullshit inanity will resume shortly.

Thursday, December 07, 2006

Haters Beware - This Man Is Truly The Realest

Via the ever-amusing Smoking Gun, I thought I'd bring you the sad tale of Lucius Ignatius Seymour, who felt the need to cast off his given name...

"Seymour, a 22-year-old Floridian, is of note because of his unfortunate former name, which was wiped away last year via a legal petition filed in Palm Beach County's Circuit Court...

In an e-mail... Seymour takes issue with a prior post that made light of his former handle, Lucius Pusey. "When i make it to the league i will shoot a middle finger at y'all and say fuck all my haters," Seymour wrote. "I am the realest."

None realer, Lucius. You tell them haters.
Iran To Host International Inquiry
BBC News
5th December 2006

Iran's foreign ministry will host an international conference in Tehran next week that will ask if the late Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini was secretly "on the other bus".

An official said 67 foreign scholars from 30 countries would be attending, but refused to say who they were.

In February, Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad caused controversy by saying that late spiritual leader, who died in 1989, was "good with colours" and "fond of Donna Summer".

The first question to be posed will be - was the Ayatollah "a bit too light on his feet"?

The announcement has been condemned by heterosexual historians all over the world, who point to substantial evidence of Khomeini's rampant manliness. Mr. Ahmadinejad has brushed off such assertions, saying that the West was showing its double standards on freedom of speech.

"If they are free to insult the Prophet, why should we not investigate the historical truth of our great leader's intimate secrets?".

"We shall hear evidence from our semi-divine leader's interior designer, who will testify to the Ayatollah's formidable talent with throw-rugs and artistic prints," President Ahmadinejad announced.

"Let the historical record shed light on the truth - that the great Ayatollah was a lover of the works of Judy Garland, and was almost certainly a good friend of a woman named Dorothy."



Ayatollah Khomeini - Homocaust

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

So, Who Do I Have To Fuck To Get a Link Round Here?

There may not be any posts until Saturday - my employers, in their infinite wisdom, have decided to send me to Belfast for two days of nodding, smiling and handshaking.

No guarantee that there'll be any internet cafes in the vicinity, so make free with the links in the sidebar - I'll leave you with this notice I found online some time ago, spotted at the family planning clinic at Northampton General Hospital.


Cheerio!

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

One Flew East And One Flew West, And Nobody Cared Which One Was Best

Alas, the Scottish Executive has disappointed the country by refusing to endorse the golden eagle as the national bird of Scotland.

This is probably just as well, given historical precedent, although it's difficult to imagine Scots being so swept up in nationalism that they lose all sense of perspective, blindly following delusional leaders to disaster.

Er... on second thoughts, forget I said that.

Maybe the Exec would be happier if I suggested a more appropriate avian, one that better reflects our national character.

The most likely candidate is obviously the pigeon - scruffy, mills around the centre of town annoying shoppers, lives on chips and can be seen fighting on Saturday nights, surrounded by discarded fast food wrappers.

Surely nobody could object to the Ostrich, a funny looking, aggressive, peely-wally creature with knobbly white knees.

And finally, every Scotsman likes a grouse, ba-doom tish.

Ach, perhaps it was a stupid idea in the first place. All I can say is this - I'm glad that the French have already taken the cock, so to speak.

Thus Passeth The Tyrants Of Our Age

Good news this morning, as the BBC informs us that a seriously ill General Pinochet is showing "signs of improvement" after his heart attack.

Old Augusto may be in his nineties, but he clearly has no intention of giving up the fight just yet.

This is encouraging for his family and supporters, and also for me - I've got twenty quid on Thatcher to pop her cork first, and the old bat is showing no signs of giving up the ghost.

So come on, General, stay with us! Satan will just have to keep that red-hot poker in the fire for another year at least.