The Curmudgeon


Friday, October 24, 2014

Don't Treat Us the Way Our Chums Treat the Proles

Britain's Head Boy has been having a bit of a squeal because the Euro-wogs have demanded more money without paying for it in free holidays and other lobbyists' incentives. To add insult to injury, the pretext for the demand is the idea that stronger economies should pitch in and help the weaker ones; which of course is pure face-purpling anathema to the post-2010 Social Darwinist now in nominal charge of the Real Conservatives. Even were he not being taunted by the Caudillo of the Farage Falange, handing over cash just because a contract with the Euro-wogs requires it would go against every instinct in Daveybloke's bulgey Bullingon body; prompt payment in such circumstances would be a faux pas almost on a par with settling a tailor's bill on time.

Thursday, October 23, 2014

You Think You've Got It Tough

Like the hard-working families to which they are such a shining moral example, many members of the House of Expenses Claimants are supplementing their meagre salaries with an extra job or two. After all, an MP only has a guaranteed income for five years, after which they have to start picking up the pieces of their lives and recovering from the trauma of public service. A few are altruistically concerned to avoid creating a professional political class, which might easily result in our being ruled by a detached clique of rich white men. In any case, it is certainly reassuring that so many of our lords and masters can not only find their own arses with only a few private secretaries to help them, but can also manage to keep their snouts buried in one trough while their trotters are busy in another.

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Holy Warriors

After only seven years of palaver, an American jury has cleared up a few misunderstandings about one of the more deplorable incidents in the last Iraq crusade. Some boots on the ground who were thought to be doing a wonderful job under difficult circumstances have turned out to be little more than trigger-happy mercenaries who caused damage above and beyond the acceptably collateral. Blackwater, the outfit for which the military advisers worked, was so proud of its record that it changed its name twice, first to the science-fictional Xe Services and then to the Orwellian Academi, and paid an undisclosed sum to slightly less than one-sixth of the victims. The contribution of these corporate heroes towards the cause of peace in the Middle East is described by Britain's leading liberal newspaper as "one of the darkest incidents of the Iraq war"; and certainly the Nisour Square massacre was a lot less clean and tidy than what can now be achieved merely by floating a drone or two on the warm updraughts of wind from the Tony Blair Faith Foundation. As usual, no doubt lessons have been learned and precautions put in place, which will ensure that so distressing an indiscretion can never happen again until it does.

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Happy Ever After

Britain's Jews, of course, are the descendants of migrants. Having been thrown out of England in the thirteenth century, after Edward I had mugged them for every groat they had, they were allowed back in under the Commonwealth; which just shows what can happen when you start abolishing eternal British values like the divine right of kings. Anyway, the dubious ancestry of Britain's Jews doubtless helps explain their annoyance at the Caudillo of the Farage Falange, who is cuddling up to a Polish Holocaust denier in order to be allowed to continue milking the Euro-wogs for his election money.

Fortunately, since the Farage Falange are by no means all über-Tories, there is certainly no comparison with Daveybloke's earlier cuddling up to a Polish Holocaust denier, or even the Latvian Waffen-SS fan club, in order to appease his back-bench baboons. If any further proof were needed of the difference between the Farage Falange and the more papionine reaches of the Conservative Party, those same back-bench baboons are the ones now threatening to flock to the Caudillo's greasy little flag.

Monday, October 20, 2014

Oh, the Unfairness of It All

Evidently the deputy governor of the Bank of England has not been adequately briefed on the causes of the late financial crisis. As we are all aware by now, the crash of 2008 was caused by migrants, the public sector, the Euro-wogs, the possibility of a yes vote in the Scottish referendum, excessive taxation of the extremely rich, and everything to do with the last Labour government. Sir Jon Cunliffe apparently thinks greedy bankers had some sort of hand in the affair; and more outrageous still, he has suggested that they might now think about taking a pay cut. Partly because of the alacrity with which the economy has recovered during the Osbornomic miracle, and partly because of penalties for past misdeeds, there is less money to go around; so of course the bankers have been taking most of it for themselves while throwing a few scraps to the shareholders. This campaign of responsible redistribution culminated in Barclays' recent reward of a ten per cent increase in bonuses for a thirty-two per cent drop in profits. Sir Jon Cunliffe thinks it's time for an end to that sort of thing until we have an underclass who can pay for it properly. It is certainly quite inexcusable for respectable stock-market gamblers to be treated with the same contempt as NHS personnel and other scroungers and shirkers.

Sunday, October 19, 2014

Negative Custodial Assertiveness Excessivity

Not content with all the trouble he's already caused, the last British resident of Guantánamo Bay is still doing his best to embarrass Her Majesty's Government, even as it slips smoothly into its nice new war in Iraq. Another detainee, and a Yemeni to boot, claimed that Shaker Aamer was being subjected to increasingly assertive forcibility by the teams of armed guards performing his cellular extractivities. Deeply concerned, the suitful of stale air in the Foreign Office wrote to the US government; surprisingly enough, some officials of the US government replied that everything was tickety-boo. Her Majesty's Government has little choice but to accept these reassurances, since its own representatives are not allowed to verify them, and the only half-way respectable person contradicting them is merely an American judge. Although Aamer claims he was tortured by MI5, his release from Guantánamo remains such a high priority for Her Majesty's Government that he is still being held there despite having been cleared for release by the Bush and Obama administrations.

Saturday, October 18, 2014

The Dehumanising Divide

J Sewell McEvoy at the Numinous Book of Review has posted a generous piece on my recent excursion into alternate-world film criticism, I, Mengele. It was partly the NBR's appreciation of my novella The Foundations of the Twenty-First Century that started me thinking that this particular alternate world might be worth revisiting; so I am glad the result didn't disappoint. (Another factor was the publicity for I, Frankenstein, whose title exerted an inexplicable fascination even as the reviews made clear that the film itself was worthless.) As usual, Mr McEvoy's review looks beneath the surface tricks (I, Mengele has nearly as many cinematic in-jokes per page as a Tarantino script, but that was the easiest part) to find something hopefully worthy of more sustained interest. Decidedly worthy of sustained interest is the Numinous Book of Review itself, which gives thoughtful attention to genre works whose present obscurity is even less deserved than my own.

I, Mengele is available as paperback and as PDF; the page for the PDF version includes further reviews by the fine thriller writer Tim Stevens and by the grottily apocalyptic entity sometimes known as Chickyog.

Friday, October 17, 2014

Treachery Against the Taxpayer-Funded German Immigrant

The suitful of stale air which occupies the Ministry for Wogs, Frogs and Huns has hinted at the possibility of treason trials for terroristically-inclined Britons. The suitful of stale air was responding to a query by the back-bench baboon Philip Hollobone, whose residence in the early decades of the twentieth century has not permitted him to become acquainted with present-day anti-terrorism law. "Their actions are treachery against Her Majesty, and aiding and abetting enemies of Her Majesty is one of the greatest offences a British citizen can commit," blathered Hollobone, while the suitful of stale air nodded approval and promised to mention it to the mad old cat lady in the Home Office at the earliest possible opportunity.

The offence of treason is still on the statute books, but no-one has been prosecuted for it since 1946. The standard penalty of hanging, drawing and quartering had been tragically abolished some time before; although, in the view of Philip Hollobone, public emasculation, evisceration and dismemberment is doubtless little more than a jihadi holiday at the taxpayers' expense. Strangely enough, neither the baboon nor the suitful of stale air made any mention of the Reverend Blair, whose religious involvement in the illegal violence of a foreign power resulted in the deaths of many British citizens and caused permanent damage to the diplomatic standing of Her Majesty's United Kingdom. The omission is yet more remarkable in light of the Reverend Blair's first ministry having itself abolished the death penalty for treason, presumably in anticipation of the Reverend's moral convenience.

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Do as You're Told or the Foot Gets It

Britain's Head Boy has given the Euro-wogs a bit of a ticking off for not bucking up their ideas and reforming sufficiently to keep the back-bench baboons on-side until next May. Nevertheless, he is magnanimously prepared to give them one last chance to mend their ways. Daveybloke was burbling from the Rochester campaign trail, so obviously his burblings were intended less for Brussels or Strasbourg than for any Little Englanders who may be voting in the approaching by-election. Daveybloke burbled about his patriotism, his passion and his pride, but seems for the time being to have refrained from waving Little Ivan about. Daveybloke burbled about Britain being a voice for free trade, deregulation and killing brown people; nevertheless, he believes that "the rest of Europe actually wants us to stay" because Britain has "contributed massively to European prosperity and progress, over not just the last few years but over centuries". In return for continuing to confer the privilege of our belligerent, whiny, law-breaking presence, Daveybloke wants access to Europe's markets and a say over how those markets work. Daveybloke also reminded the Euro-wogs that Britain is a country called Britain. How the Euro-wogs respond to the ultimatum will presumably depend on how much they enjoy the spectacle of a jumped-up office boy pointing a pistol at his own foot and threatening to fire if his demands aren't met.

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Helping Daddy

Lord Freud, the minister for poor-bashing who thinks that food banks are proliferating because the proles like a free lunch, has been good enough to provide Britain's Head Boy with yet another excuse to wave the corpse of Little Ivan in the face of the enemy. Freud was asked at a fringe meeting about a few mongs, spazzes, mumbling idiots and others whom a Conservative councillor deemed not worth the minimum wage, but who could do with being shoved into employment in order to attain the sense of self-worth which is somehow eluding them even under the ever-sensitive Bullingdon cosh. Freud agreed that some people weren't worth the minimum wage, and promised to think about how best to get them working on the even-cheaper; the exchange was quoted by the Milibeing and disowned by Daveybloke, and that is where the corpse of Little Ivan came in. After several years of justifying the coalition's assault on the NHS, the child has now been co-opted as an alibi for his father's pre-election denial of the coalition's assault on the disabled. It is certainly jolly considerate of Britain's Head Boy to pile all that work onto the shoulders of a disabled child, especially a dead one who cannot express his gratitude for the sense of self-worth it undoubtedly gives him.