Category: Brexit

LCD Views can report on a long running medical mystery that has the U.K.’s best doctors stumped.

”We can’t work out if patient is in coma or should be placed in one?” Doctor Doctor, consulting neuro-recto-cranio-ologist at Girls Hospital (twin to Guys), Westminster admits,

“we’ve run so many tests. CRG’s, MOT’s, BBC’s (that was especially useless), MRI’s (frightening, but not illuminating), EEG’s and old fashioned hit you with x-rays X-rays and we’re none the wiser.”

The frank admission comes not from anyone called frank, but the medics overseeing the case.

”The symptoms are worsening by the hour. The monitor that beeps steadily in healthy, functioning representative democracies is now just a solid beeeeeeeep. The blood tests are showing yellow vests attacking the white blood cells, normally a sign of Bannonitis. It appears the patient is in a self induced coma already. And that’s the problem.”

Because you can’t put someone into a coma who’s put themselves willingly into one?

”Quite. Double down on a coma with a coma and you’re likely to end up with a fascist state dismantling itself from within at a speed that would do Ebola proud. With just as many messy bodily fluids being sprayed all over.”

So what will you do now?

”We’re running a new battery of tests tomorrow. Cooper test. Grieve probe. We’ll see what the results of those are and decide where to go with treatment after that.”

What if they return negative or inconclusive results too?

”Then I’m buying several large bags of rice, some spam, dried fruit, several cases of Boudreaux and legging it to a barn in the Scottish highlands. And I’d recommend you do that too.”

LCD Views can report on a scoop from the tabloid dinosaur world today with the revelation that the Daily Mail is to move to France in preparation for Brexit.

”They spy the lucrative commercial opportunity of whipping Eurosceptic French citizens into a lather over a wave of English economic migrants,” our tabloid specialist reports, “there’s gutters to rake in France and they’re off to rake, dredge and snipe from them.”

It’s believed the editorial policy will be classic Dacre, with little of the recent burst of, well, occasionally not quite insane, once or twice. but mostly still mental trash, line taken in England in the post Paul era.

”They’re going to promote anti-vax theories heavily, to build on their work in this field in England in the early 2010’s. They’ll compare every warning on anything to the unnecessary fuss about the Millennium Bug, they’ll run a campaign to get the Chunnel turned into a mushroom farm too, but otherwise it’ll be wall to wall outrage over British economic migrants coming to steal French jobs from French taxpayers.”

They could go hard over health tourism of benefit scrounging English too!

”Oh, they’ll be plenty of that. Alongside pointing out that once the failing EU superstate is defeated by the international conspiracy of Russian kleptomaniacs and sociopathic, feudalist US billionaires, how much freer everyone will be.”

Free to warm their hands around bins on fire in the street? While looking at the murals of Theresa May on every street?

”Shhh. You’ll ruin the surprise.”

So. I presume they’ll be launching a French language version of their news website too?

”They already have! It focuses daily on how the English saved the French all on our own in WW2. It doesn’t report on anything else.”

And how much will the French Daily Mail cost?

”Just thirty pieces of silver, each and every day. Exactly the same as the English version.”

The UK is approaching a crisis. Deal or no deal – or no Brexit at all. May’s deal is dead in the water, and no deal is unpalatable to all but the headbangers. No Brexit is unacceptable to the screaming troublemakers who must be appeased no matter what. So what is to happen, and who is to be betrayed?

For betrayal it is. No Brexit betrays the mythical 52% of the country who voted Leave. May’s deal betrays the equally mythical 48% wishing to Remain. And no deal betrays us all and tosses the UK to the vultures.

In such volatile times, one turns naturally to social media. Here, all schools of thought engage in restating their position dogmatically, while bots spew ungrammatical bile whenever anybody types Remain or EU or People’s Vote. Or healthy debate, as it is commonly known.

In this Bot’s Brexit, the weakness of an argument is determined by the volume of bots deployed to support it. This relationship is commonly called Zuckerberg’s Law.

So, which of our representatives will stand up and make a decision? The language of Brexit has painted almost everyone into a corner. Nobody dares not to respect the overwhelmingly narrow margin of victory upon which this farce has been built.

For this is what it boils down to. One referendum, one corrupt campaign. One wilful misinterpretation of the outcome. The opportunity to debate the issue was lost in the craven desire to forfeit decision making to those least informed – The People. The People voted, and The People spoke. And The People said, well, we don’t know.

As politics focussed upon this one issue, and became massively bogged down in the realities of Brexit, the Language of Brexit has been ramped up. We no longer have two factions who disagree, instead we have two raging mobs who threaten devastation and human sacrifice if they don’t get their way.

And so the UK heads, like a lamb to the slaughter, to the crisis of 29 March 2019. Will it all end in tears?

Following the revelations by the BBC showing European Council President Donald Tusk calling the idea of a Brexit “stupid” during private conversations with the father of Brexit, former PM David Cameron, Brexiteers are now demanding lip readers go over the material to verify those revelations.

Boris Johnson was first to twitter his outrage at Tusk’s qualification of the, at the time, future Brexit referendum in the BBC documentary: “As I said during my speech in Staffordshire, we will find a way out of this mess, because both the UK and the EU are being led by highly intelligent people. Tusk’s statement is therefore literally unbelievable and highly offensive, and I call for a public inquiry of qualified lip readers into the matter.”

In the same breath, Johnson disowned his referral to the migration of eighty million Turks adhering to the EU during the Leave Campaign.

Following the MP’s tweet, the Leader of the Commons, Andrea Leadsom, has called upon the same lip readers that analysed Jeremy Corbyn’s alleged “stupid woman” quote during PMQs more than a month ago.

In addition, she reiterated her vocal wish for Parliament taking back control by backing Jacob Rees-Mogg’s call on government to close down Parliament in order to block a free vote of MPs on different amendments to the government´s motion.

Wishful thinking

It has cross-party appeal. Labour´s Kate Hoey has joined the call for lip readers to investigate Tusk´s utterance.

“The will of the people is never stupid,” she declared.

“What is stupid is this scaremongering about the Irish border. If the Irish don’t wish it, if we don’t wish it, if the EU doesn’t wish, why should there be one?”, renewing her call for the Irish to pay for the border infrastructure “if they wish it”.

During yesterday’s debate in the Commons, PM Theresa May has called on the European Council President to retract what he has said.

She has also responded to MP’s questions concerning future global trade deals: “Some days ago I have lunched with New Zealand’s PM. They are very favourable to the prospect of shipping their beef all around the world. This shows what a truly global Britain can achieve while maintaining the highest environmental and labour standards.”

She also reconfirmed that Britain will ship itself to the other side of the planet to replace our greatest ally, the USA, in the Trans-Pacific Partnership Agreement, whilst we will remain a part of Europe, whilst leaving the EU, whilst staying closely aligned to it.”

Tusk himself reacted to these calls laconically by declaring: “What I said is precisely that: stupid. Want me to spell it out? S-T-U-P-I-D. Do the British want any legal clarification of that?”

The otherwise austere Michel Barnier, leading the negotiations for the EU, has posted a video on the internet to sum up his opinion into the matter.

In news that most will greet with a shrug, Witheringspoon CEO Tim ‘blows hard’ Martin, has announced that his famous chain of boozers is to relocate to the late 1940’s.

The Witteringon boss has a reputation for out of the box thinking, so far out of the box the box becomes invisible, so it’s no surprise to see him taking a giant leap backwards.

“The 1940’s, particularly the late 1940’s, is a time that most typifies the kind of spirit required to make the most of Brexit,” Champagne Charlie, head of marketing at Woebetidecutlery (the firm that produces Martin’s famous propaganda beer mats told us), “you know, ability to forage in ruins for anything useful that you can sell for scrap to feed the kids that survived the calamity. Fear of foreign invasion lingering in every corner. Foreigners greeted with suspicion, because THAT’S HOW YOU GREET FOREIGNERS. So it’s a natural fit. Bit of blitz spirit is what we need. We survived the blitz, we can survive Brexit.”

You don’t hear people who didn’t survive the blitz saying that.

“So we’ll be moving the pub chain in its entirety back to the late 1940’s. See how you like that Brussels!”

But it’s not just fetishising a conflict no one pushing Brexit was alive to fight in that’s got Martin cock-a-hoop.

“We’ll also be opening pubs in the 1970’s. Especially the bit with the three day week. People had more time to spend down the pub then, a glorious era. And the year of the Queen’s coronation. Rule Britannia all the way to no foreign muck served in our pubs.”

A special line of Union Jack urinal cakes is being commissioned to celebrate the backwards leap to insularity. Customers are sure to greet those with a smile.

“We’ll print salutary messages on them too,” Charlie says, “like, remember more than six shakes is a wank. It’ll be a hoot!”

But we’re not sure Martin has really thought this one through, as with most things since he became a high priest of the Brexit death cult, as he’ll need to check out the tax rates before getting into the time machine.

“Nothing to worry about!” Champagne Charlie reassures, “the worker’s rights back then we have us celebrating with English sparkling wine all the time. But one more thing to be aware of, all customers are requested not to steal the Union Jack urinal cakes. Martin like to piss on them personally.”

LCD Views can report on the shape and texture of the lips of British Army chiefs today, after the mad robot inside 10 Downing Street placed them on alert to guard the unheard of riches Brexit will instantly bring.

“Pursed I’d say,” our military specialist reports, “terse too. Tense. Puckered. So dry licking them with a dry tongue in a dry mouth doesn’t do any good. Hissing sounds can be heard, presumably as the upper brass repress more colourful language in response to the orders coming down the line from 10 Downing Street.”

As to the Secretary of Defence, Gavin Williamson, what direction is he giving the army to help prepare for civil disorder?

“He’s suggested arming the infantry with tarantulas trained to kill,” our correspondent informs, “he wants big spiders, big enough to leash and patrol the streets. You know, instead of german shepherds. He fancies it was the spider he kept on his desk that got him from chief whip to former fireplace salesman responsible for the defence of the realm. And not the black book full of Tory MP sexual peccadillos he inherited from the last chief whip.”

But there isn’t time to genetically modify and breed a giant species of tarantula, ahead of a No Deal Brexit, how can he expect them to follow his orders?

“Oh, I don’t think they follow his orders,” our specialist snorts, “that would just be silly. They nod and smile and then over lunch talk about the viability of a military coup, just to restore parliamentary sovereignty from an executive that is now clearly insane.”

That sounds more like what you’d expect them to say.

“Williamson has advised them to be ready to launch Trident against the Houses of Parliament too. Just in case the giant spiders don’t work. And he’s ordered military scientists to build an actual kettle big enough to place street protestors inside.”

Anything else?

“Yes, everyone last man soldier and cadet has to be ready to lay down someone else’s life to defend the unheard of riches Brexit will instantly bring.”

Unheard of is right.

“Invisible riches is more like it.”

“Gavin has also ordered them to find Aladdin and get his lamp. Once he holds that sort of power no mob of hungry civilians will be able to stand in his way from turning the entire country into one big open fire.”

It sounds like we’re in safe hands then, as the end of March barrels towards us.

“Safe as an offshore tax haven, once we free ourselves from the EU.”

Now that’s what it’s really all about. I wonder how the army feels about being ready to do their bit to bring that about?

LCD Views find itself in the unique, and indeed historical (hysterical…) position today of having spoken with a brick wall.

The wall contacted us earlier today after receiving information regarding British prime minister Theresa May’s soon to be immediately infamous Brexit deal Plan B (from outer space, it seems).

”I’m bit over it to be honest,” the wall said, speaking for an entire continent, “how many times is she going to bash her head against me? I’m not going to crack. Have you seen my size? Have you seen my girth, depth, width and the fastness of my mortar? Come on lady, give it a rest.”

But in spite of the wall’s solidity and imperviousness to the woman’s blows (with her forehead), it’s likely she’ll just keep running at the wall and launching attacks with her head.

”She’s painted herself into a right corner,” the wall observes, “and I’m forming it. To be frank, I’m over it. She’ll have to get over me, metaphorically, because there’s bugger all chance of her getting through me.”

While we understand why the woman in question may believe that just slamming her head into the wall maybe effective sooner or later, as the wall only contains twenty seven bricks, we would have thought she would have become so bruised and bloody by now as to stop.

”She’s probably damaged her temporal lobes and unable to control her temper and behaviour,” the wall suggests, “which let’s face it, if you had to spend years in conversation with packets of mince like Davis, Raab, Fox, JRM and the like, you’d be brain damaged too.”

And thus the wall showed a greater preparedness to attempt to understand the inner character of the woman than she has ever done about the wall, from the moment she faced it and on to today.

It’s like putting a Fox in charge of the hen house, as the old saying goes. The Fox in question took his eyes off the prize for a second to discover that Brexit had been whipped away under his very snout.

Naturally, Fox cried wolf and went to ground before the hue and cry could catch up with him. Secretary of State for Extreme Twattiness, Jeremy C. Hunt, pronounced himself to be mystified. Fox hunted, Hunt foxed.

LCD Views managed to speak to Dr Fox’s spokesfox, Mr Basil Brush.

“Nobody knows where Mr Liam has gone,” twinkled Brush, foxily. “You know why, don’t you? He’s a crafty old fox, boom, boom!”

Surely the problem is not solely down to Dr Fox?

“Ah, but a leopard can’t change his spots,” remarked Brush, wolfishly. “Mr Liam has gone to the dogs. You might even say he’s gone dogging, boom, boom!”

Noting that Mr Brush’s jokes were even weaker than in his heyday, and that he has resorted to bluer material in a vain attempt to cling on to his audience, we moved on.

Chaos, not seen since the last time John Bercow put his foot down, reigned in the chamber. Brexit was nowhere to be seen, and minions were scuttling about in a futile attempt to locate it. Rumour has it that the Army has been put on standby to round up and rescue Brexit.

A large number of shifty looking individuals with EU flags around College Green was rounded up and charged with the theft. “Caught red-handed!” declared arresting officer PC Gonmad, although it later became clear that these people wanted nothing to do with Brexit and merely had cold hands. Instead, they were charged with embarrassing a police officer, subverting autocracy, and drinking foreign muck like Prosecco.

Brexit is still believed to be missing. However, nobody knows for sure, since Brexit is the Urban Spaceman, baby, of politics, it doesn’t exist; even though, de facto, it does.

Brexit is a hot potato. Let’s hope it has had its chips.

A new opinion poll has connected the characteristics of Leave voters and Audi drivers. From going too fast to changing direction without warning, the correlation is startling.

The findings have been eagerly seized upon by the eponymous motor manufacturer. An overwhelming majority of drivers drive an Audi, they claim, portraying their product to be the ‘Wheels of the People’.

Vote Audi teamed up with BeEmdoubleyou to cement their claim. Meanwhile Volkswagen, whose name literally means ‘the wheels of the people’, have started to remoan about the abuse of their slogan.

The survey was carried out by the North & South Poll Company, whose motto is ‘Polls apart!’. Chief data cruncher, Lee Dink-Westion, spoke to LCD Views.

“We carried out a comprehensive survey of all the Leave voters who would still admit to the fact in 2019,” explained Dink-Westion. “Coincidentally, we also carried out a survey of people who drive a certain brand of motor car. The populations had a 52% overlap, and the replies to similar questions in both surveys showed an astonishing correspondence.”

Dink-Westion gave an example. “The questions ‘Why did you vote Leave?’ and ‘Why do you drive an Audi?’ yielded almost identical responses,” he said. “In both cases, ‘Personal inadequacy’ rated very highly.”

A second example illuminated the correlation just as well. “Examine the questions ‘What does free speech mean?’ and ‘What does freedom of the highway mean?’. The answers were, ‘I say what I like’ and ‘I drive where I like’.”

Lee Dink-Westion also pointed out that both groups suffer from extreme frustration. One because Brexit talks have stalled and never really got going again, the other because so many crying snowflake motorists stick to the Highway Code. The rallying cry shared by both groups is ‘Get on with it!’

It’s official. Brexiters and Audi drivers agree that 52% = 100%. Therefore every single Brexiter drives an Audi. Shame that nobody will be able to buy one after Brexit.

Great news for people who like traditional neurological surgery today with the announcement that Cat Hokey MP (UKIP) is to begin selling “Do-it-yourself lobotomy” kits for use in the home.

LCD Views’ Conscience correspondent went along to one of the rare surgeries held by Cat in her Allfall constituency office to learn more.

INT.          HOKEY’S SURGERY           NIGHT, ALWAYS NIGHT

A middle aged woman in a ragged coat hunches in the middle of a black tiled floor.

Burning torches flutter in the corners, driven hither and thither by an unseen wind, but the light rarely penetrates the darkness.

The woman, known as CAT (SCAT?) to mortals, holds a lit candle and is drawing a magic circle in the centre of the floor.

Another woman enters, young, go-getting reporter ROSIE SEARCHLIGHT.

ROSIE holds a silver cross in front of herself as she walks.

From the lump under her tight fitting, black leather jacket, it would be easy to believe she has a pistol on her hip. It would be easy to believe this show is on ITV.

CAT ignores ROSIE.

She waves the candle back and forth. She mutters in an ancient, unintelligible language, incanting as she draws her circle.

Rosie Searchlight

“Ms Hokey? Labour, I mean UKIP, representative for Allfall?”

CAT glances rapidly over her shoulder.

Cat

“Are you the gate keeper? Nigel has summoned the gate keeper. Are you the gate keeper? Answer me.”

Rosie Searchlight

What gate needs keeping?

Cat

“Nigel, my master, he is the key master. He must have the gate or he can not de-stablise the peace.”

Rosie Searchlight

“I’m here to learn about your do-it-yourself lobotomy kits? We’re featuring them in the afternoon edition of LCD Views? Home Medicine. It’s a new weekly feature.”

CAT begins to levitate above the tiles. She flies at ROSIE, but recoils from the cross.

Cat

“Hiss! Hiss! Take a lobotomy pack and get out! Go home child of man and carve out your temples.”

ROSIE SEARCHLIGHT advances towards CAT. She holds the cross in front of her. Her other hand on the lump on her hip.

Rosie Searchlight

“Not until you tell me the recommended retail price for the lobotomy kits.”

ROSIE crosses through the circle on the floor.

She continues towards CAT who is desperately trying not to singe her hair on a torch in the corner.

Cat

“Back away! I’ve just had my hair done to go boating with the dark lord Furherage!”

ROSIE is undaunted. She steps in closer.

She doesn’t see that behind her, out of the circle she has just left, a dark shadow is gathering with a pint in its hand and a cigarette in its mouth. The shadow has wings and they are spreading.

END SCENE