Well, it’s been an interesting old week, what with an American billionaire presidential candidate suddenly being declared more dangerous than ISIS or Jeremy Corbyn. And a world champion British sportsman attracting opprobrium for daring to have the wrong opinions. It’s become quite a confusing world; while those whose bile is quick to rise have no problem with the gross hypocrisies of their stances, the rest of us are left scratching our heads at what has become verboten which was formerly ignored. Indeed our supposed leaders no longer lead, instead relying on increasingly flaky barometers of approval before coming to decisions.
Author Archives: pperrin
Watching the not-so-slow death of Labour by a thousand cuts[typo] is a spectacle in turns amusing, horrifying, incredible and at times as predictable as a socialist calling everybody they disagree with ‘Tory scum’. Will they let Corbyn hang on over Christmas? Certainly the consensus seems to be that he’ll be gone after next May’s local elections, by which time Labour will be little more than a gibbering basket case, hoping to fail its Atos work capability assessment and stay on the sick forever. But it wasn’t always this way.
Source: When I’m King: Easy Living
The ‘Junior’ Doctors have agreed to go on strike over something or other. I‘m Past caring, if I’m honest, I’m planning a spectacular, no-coming-back-from-that heart attack on my sixtieth birthday…
It would be quite a feat to outdo the experts in most fields when it comes to being comprehensively wrong about almost everything. Every, sodding time. I know, I have made a study of experts in their natural habitat, their natural habitat being the media where they may freely display their colossal detachment from reality without any obvious self-awareness or embarrassment; I’m guessing the fat pay cheques make up for the lack of real-world credibility.
Source: When I’m King: Myth and Money
Read by John Powell.
Much chatter on the airwaves about the news – honestly, it’s like they think this just happened – that it may not be necessary to hold a degree in order to chuck coffee in a mug and scribble a doodle in the foam. No shit, Sherlock.
When Moses Miliband came down from the mountain with his stone tablet of principles from who knows what acid-fuelled, socialist unthink tank we all gasped in astonishment before falling about with laughter. Ed himself always appeared to be delivering the message of others more Marxist than he, as he robotically intoned the edicts with a voice that was a gift to impressionists everywhere. He is probably as relieved as his party to be away from the spotlight, but he must be wondering why Jeremy Corbyn is getting away with doing much the same thing.