Tuesday, 18 April 2017

A Leaked Document: First Draft of Theresa May’s Speech Announcing a Snap General Election (Which I Found in Amongst My Dirty Washing)

Dearest Peoples of Britain,

I've had some pita bread with eggplant and feel inspired. Equally, I just received a call from Gibraltar informing me that my husband has been cured of his baldness. They removed his head. What wonders of medicine!

But to the point, I feel it necessary to call a snap general election, or a crocodile election as mummy and daddy used to call it before they died of good weather in ‘98. Granted, I've always wanted to call one of these, if only to honour their memory, and, today, I feel invigorated. How odd! When I woke up this morning my thoughts were a bundle of rags. I couldn't find my bottom lip and merely wanted to sit in and watch Sherlock all day. Perhaps I've been reading too much Kafka of late but I'm really starting to enjoy mainstream television. When done well, I think it offers answers to some of the great questions. For one, is existence true of itself a priori or, rather, an empirical variable? And most importantly, at what point should one invoke causal inference to ascertain the probability of God's existence? After a good omnibus of EastEnders I am not afraid to say with frank assurance that existence is an alcoholic Cossack tenor and God a hypochondriac. If only the stars would align! And where is Spinoza's sandal in all of this?

Back to the announcement though and, hopefully, my point... When I was a child I dreamed of being a great cyclist but that was a pipedream. I never could get far without stabilisers. Instead, I now hope to establish a democratic dictatorship and, if the patent is still available, term it ‘Dictocracy’. The defining qualities and necessary precursors to establishing a stable and effective Dictocracy are as follows:


1) Get your 100m swimming certificate.

2) Only ever iron your sleeves. Never use cufflinks.

3) Learn to distinguish between the philosophies of Michael Foucault and Dawn French.

4) Read all Colin Forbes novels while stringently taking notes.

5) Appreciate fine wine and lobster.

6) Sing the hallelujah chorus while violently stabbing your servant with a couple of blunt pencils.

7) Cook naked.

8) Mistake Jeremy Corbyn for a well-trained llama. 

9) Don’t get caught goose-stepping.

10) Only make love in accordance with the teachings of Isosceles. 

11) Adhere to all speed limits and never do heroin on weekdays. 


For the sake of clarity and posterity, points 1 and 5 are interdependent. Point 2 requires an understanding of Neo-Hegelian Post-Modern chastity ethics. Point 7 may be bypassed in the event of shingles but this is not recommended if hypocrisy is valued (which it most certainly should be). 

Critics will view and inevitably disregard this policy as misanthropic political playtime but that is because they are uneducated dung-hoarders. We all know the kind. It is, however, imperative for all to recognise that this country must be brought together. I will never accept the argument that equality will achieve this. Equality is the whore of Satan. Those who dispute this shall be subject to wire-tapping and dodgy plumbing. Moreover, I truly believe that I have been sent by a being beyond our comprehension to carry seventy million people to safety. Safety from checks and balances. Safety from governmental accountability. Safety from European cuisine which, as we all know, is often undercooked. Instead, I am proud to usher in a new and exciting era of Dictocracy. The Queen has agreed to this on the basis she’s allowed to colonise the Costa Del Sol and get a new wig. Please trust me on this. Grant me a majority as large as John Prescott’s belly and I shall reward you all with two free tickets to Butlins. 

Thanking you kindly, 

Your Significant Leader

Tuesday, 4 April 2017

Notes on Obscure Twenty-First Century Philosophers

Flannery McShanus

Fiercely protective of his privacy, little is known of McShanus other than his backstreet contributions to linguistics. Adamant that the true essence of human spirit has been eroded by technological advancements and pasteurised milk, he advocated the adoption of barking as humanity’s universal language in his influential essay The Canine Way. After seeing the music video for Toxic by Britney Spears, McShanus re-evaluated his theory and concluded in The Canine Way Revisited Given the Existence of Britney Spears that English and Swahili are okay, but only if a lawyer is present and all speaking subjects are kept on a leather lead. He is currently thought to be working on a hybrid language which substitutes all vowels for imprecations and demands political discussions take place under the influence of a strong anaesthetic. He hopes that this will help elucidate the meaning of life and bring clarification to Jacques Derrida’s theory that it is unwise to blink while riding a horse. McShanus was also the first to discover that if you lock yourself in a zoo overnight and say the word “Amen” over and over again it actually means that your rent is due. This is regarded by some Swiss scholars as an interesting contribution to the field of pragmatics but they’re still not sure if it’s enough to justify getting involved in international conflicts.


Gina Goethe-King

Academically active for only two years between 2001 and 2003, Gina Goethe-King was the first scholar to offer an assured one-line answer to the question, “What is life?” Quite simply, she asserted; “good lighting and access to a reliable mirror at all times.” Dr. Chen N. Wilting from the University of Exeter took issue with her view however, writing in the useless yet universally acclaimed journal We're Clever Exeter Gents that the meaning of life is actually running around the Holy Land dressed as the devil and hitting pilgrims with a spicy burrito. After a series of embittered articles which Susan Sontag dubbed “the ugliest academic fist fight I’ve ever seen”, the pair agreed to a game of table tennis in order to settle the disagreement. Goethe-King won but, lacking purpose having already discovered the meaning of life, was left feeling depressed and craving crisps. She has since taken up video gaming and denounced academia as being “a bit boring”. 


Thom Thomas Verpansky

Born to Russian peasants but named after a Welsh shepherd, Thom Thomas Verpasnsky was a child protégé. Capable of doing tax returns by the age of ten, he was adopted by the Moscow Travelling Circus to do the performer’s accounts and scout especially talented jugglers. It was during this period of his life (The Circus Years) that he first became acquainted with classical mechanics and in a daring experiment to prove Isaac Newton’s theory of universal gravitation defunct, a tight rope walking clown fell to his death after Verpasnky’s insistence that the rope wasn’t actually necessary. Rocked not only by this tragedy but also by a tax evasion scandal in which Stalin’s nephew wound up in a car boot sale, the circus was forced to close and, disgraced, Verpansky returned to his parents who were distressed to find that their son had changed his first name to Gregorivich. 

With no income and no option but to work the land, Verpansky spent the following five years fabricating crop circles and became briefly enthralled with agricultural ethics, however, was left demoralised upon discovering that his father was a racist. Bored with existence and seeking meaning, Verpansky swam the Bering Strait, cycled through Alaska and jogged his way through Canada before finally arriving in Manhattan having inadvertently set a new triathlon record. In the Big Apple, Verpansky took up lodgings with a trapeze artist whom he knew from his days in the Moscow Travelling Circus and it is said that during his first night in the city he was visited by three ghosts who warned him through the medium of song and dance that his life would be considered a failure unless he opened a Russian-themed takeaway restaurant in Chinatown. Convinced by their harmonies, he successfully held up a moving metro train the following morning to raise the necessary capital but after a poorly attended grand opening soon realised that no one knew what Russian cuisine consisted of and, thus, daren’t risk trying it. 

Forced to reconsider his situation, Verpansky began riding elevators in an attempt to clear his head and achieve ontological clarity, however, while half way up the Chrysler Building decided it would probably be better if he just put his glasses back on. This proved to be a mistake when he saw a yellow cab run over a beaver in Times Square and, traumatised, spent the ensuing three years in Bellevue (The Bellevue Years). Here, as is generally accepted, Verpasnky became fascinated with the workings of the human mind and upon being discharged immediately applied to study psychology at University of New York where he was accepted on the condition he lose two stone. 

While at NYU, Verpansky flourished as an academic, sleeping with at least two professors a day and developing the controversial notion of Psychological-Animaverto which is explored in his debut novella, The Mind Which is Not Necessarily Mine. Although shrouded in double-entendre, the theory suggests that pigeons govern the entirety of the unconscious human mind. This can be seen as the primary reason for why dreams in which one is on a plane that is about to crash are so common.

Still only twenty three years old and thought to be in his academic prime, Verpansky was last seen learning to drive on the Sabbath and getting thrown out of a Downtown strip club by Eddie Murphy. 



Hubbert Keraffe

Hubbert Keraffe was the first theologian to think and not pass out. According to his journals, after getting hit on the head by a boomerang while trying to spot famous people in Leicester Square he began to question the role of Moses in liberating the Israelites from persecution and slavery. Rather than parting the Red Sea for the sake of freedom, Keraffe argues that Moses had been caught throwing “good friends” off a pier the week before and by helping his people hoped to get back in their good books.

Keraffe’s career took a turn for the worse however when he confused Noam Chomsky with Nim Chimpsky on national television. He tried to cover up the mistake by pressing Chimpsky for an overview of transformational grammar while simultaneously stroking Chomsky’s hair and feeding him lettuce. Despite struggling for regular work since, he still owns an indoor pool.

Thursday, 30 March 2017

A Dictum on the Increasing Prevalence of Coffee in Modern Society

I'm an open minded man who is familiar with the works of Channing Tatum but I can't deny that I've been left stunned by the increasing prevalence of coffee in modern society. Why are so many choosing to damage their teeth in this way and forgo healthier options such as the milkshake? There's now a coffee shop on every corner and a coffee addict behind every marriage. People drink it as though their nose is on fire and come the end of a day are often found aimlessly running around graveyards complaining about the onset of a strident work ethic and the odd headache. Furthermore, I fear that failings in the state education system have left the public numb and even ignorant to the role of baristas as the foot soldiers of a brutally oppressive cult. Consider one barista who while on annual leave was caught goose-stepping through Benidorm chanting “make it a strong one!” Consider another who listed her own grandmother as a rare antique on Craigslist and after a successful sale only mailed her second class. Let me also cite a third and final example of how far the problem has gone: A lady who worked nine to five in an office for deporting roosters and who boasted a firm grasp of Winston Churchill's dress sense was lumped with the role of ‘coffee-go-getter’. There used to be a rota but no one told her this. So each morning she had to go down to The H. Himmlar Coffee Co. and order on behalf of her colleagues, many of whom had never seen a sun tan and weren’t even familiar with the oeuvre of André Lhote. Having to order for over two hundred workers exerted a lot of pressure on her knees but the real tragedy, and the one which I feel really proves my point, is that being continually exposed to the smell of coffee left her unable to vote objectively anymore. I’m confident there is nothing more to say on the topic.

Thursday, 4 August 2016

Psalm 34:097

Jobe said... "bloody knock me sideways! Jesus has gone and grew a beard..."

It wasn't the usual type of beard that had been seen on most faces around Nazareth or Jerusalem or anywhere in Herod's sun-drenched land. Rather, this was a magnificent beard, all furry and fluffy looking. The type of beard that made kings jealous. And for this reason, Jesus realised that he must surely to goodness be a King... And not just any King, but the most important King of all.

So it was in this knowledge - and having caught a glimpse of one's beard in a mirror earlier in the morning - that Jesus went to his balcony to make a speech...

"I come to you with a speech. Put down ye baskets of fruit and stop stoning your wives for two goddam seconds will ya my fellow folk! Yes, fookin' shush. I have an announcement that needs a-making..."

The crowd paused and stopped stoning said wyves. Jesus responded to the lull of noise with his announcement... So forth; "I am ye KING! Now say after me: I am ye KING!"

The crowd obliged and smiled at their new King with big grinning teeth. "He must be a great one," they muttered among themselves, "for he has but the greatest beard I have ever cast me little eyes on".

"Ahh, that must have taken some growing and nursing", uttered a bystander. Everyone agreed and nodded approvingly to show so, not knowing what was to come of course. The rest is history, and a bloody strange one at that.

More to follow in future psalms and passages.

Lord be to God.

Tuesday, 17 May 2016

A Day in Parliament

It was common knowledge that Terry belonged in Parliament. He was an ugly toad after all and licked his lips with his toad-tongue whenever a pensioner tripped over the high curb outside his manor home. When his Parliament Car came at 5 after 9 to collect him he would smack a passing child on the face and laugh all the way to Parlyment (he oft' forgot how to spell it).

Parlyment was a big building with those nice bricks and Terry would rather enjoy licking the bricks with his toad tongue during morning rather than going to first session. 'Ah! Lovely bricks from a good family' he whispered to the bricks as he licked them. It was a special relationship built on faith and the utmost trust.

After morning-licking he gobbled the five-course lunch and left the trimmings for his darling wife Margerine. She was delighted at today's trimmings and kissed her husband's feet in thanks. 'Thanking you! Thanking you!' she wailed aloud. Indeedy, Terry was a good man. It was known more than anything can be known and some had written it in books even. 

After happenings and other confodafoodlings, he paused for his afternoon nap in his favourite rocking chair and woke late for afternoon session. 'Where are my robes?' He shouted angrily (unhappy to be woken, of course). 'My robes are not in their right and usual place...'

Oh no, actually they were already on him. Silly man! 'Hahahah', he laughed. 'What am I like!' 

So and so, already in his bestest robes he walked into the Parlyment big room to deliver a speech upon the matter of giving monies to the poor losers in the dumps. Terry opened his lips (which were hiding his toad tongue) and said... 'No, all this money is mine. Hahahahahah!' 

And as luck wouldn't have it, a lovely brick from a good family fell from the ceiling and boinked him on the head killing him dead. And then Parlyment argued over what to do with the body before going home early for din dins without coming to a proper conclusion.

Tuesday, 10 May 2016

Billy's Birthday Surprise

Billy had a birthday today. It's was his very own birthday for many years ago he had been born to an ugly mother who was now in jail for doing away with piggy old daddy. As he awoke to the sight of wasps invading his favourite wardrobe he thought quite aloud, "goodness gracious, tis my forty-fifth birthday today and I am yet to tie my shoe laces all on my lonesome. One day I shall learn."

Yes, that truly was a terrible manner in which to awake on one's forty-fifth birthday but it happened truthfully nonetheless. Many don't believe the wickedness that followed but he made a cup of coffee (not the strongest in the world for he was at odds with caffeine) and sat on a stool in the parlour. 

All of a sudden, bang went the front door and Billy trembled on his stool and dropped his coffee all over his hand which scolded it rather dreadfully. "Who's at my door?" he shouted in a very scaredy manner.

"It's grandmother", came the reply and this made Billy feel stupid for dropping his coffee all over his hand which was now sore and red and hurting almost too much to bear. Never mind that though. He arose like a disgraced saint and opened the door.

Wallop did grandmother over his stupid fat head and stamp many times on his burnt hand. "You're the worst and dimmest grandchild in the land Billy you good for nothing runt". And so she rightfully and eagerly bundled him into a coffin and buried him in the garden. Good riddance Billy and happy birthday you stupid toe rag.


Important Footnote- The Police Commissioner agreed that no wrongdoing had been committed but rather a great service to the community had been done and so grandmother was decorated in a public ceremony in the town square. A happy day 'twas it.

Tuesday, 19 January 2016

A Story of a Tina

Tina was told never trust anyone or anything. So she never trusted her toothbrush. Not even with the things it was good at, like cleaning teeth.

So all of her teeth rotted and fell out and she looked like a right miserable sight. With a smile that could damage the retina from a mile away, no one dared make her happy and no one dared make her laugh. Instead they played the cruellest of games to make her miserable as a moody old Maggie so that she would never be happy in the slightest. 'Tell Tina She's Tubby' was one of the games and it would be played by all the teachers and all the students at her school. Even on days off when everyone was expected to come in, naturally.

Not soon enough, terrible news befriended the Pandypots who were Tina's only acquaintances and were the only folks to favour her lack of gnashers. Tina had been taken gummy and no longer belonged in the world.

In America she was, which was very less world than her home town of Pigpott where some dingy old dope had once told her to never trust anyone or anything.