Category: Democracy

The British Prime Minister has taken some decisive action at last. In the midst of a life-threatening pandemic, he has been (not unfairly) accused of dithering and costing lives. But now he’s taking a stand on an issue of public health and safety, and about time.

In a statement issued last night, Boris Johnson announced that he had personally added to his job the title of “chief fridge inspector”, and will be inspecting any fridge he comes across from now on.

His statement was deliver in last night’s briefing:

“In an effort to guard public safety, especially in kitchens, I am personally appointing myself chief fridge inspector, effective immediately, and will examine in detail any fridge I deem to be potentially unsafe to battle this crisis. These inspections will take absolute priority, and I will not hesitate to carry one out, no matter what else is pressing.”

This comes in the wake of Donald Trump’s revelation that he had been inspecting his bunker at a time of national crisis.

It raises the question of whether this new job will interfere with his other more important responsibilities, and whether there will be a clash between his “inspections” and things like PMQs and press briefings.

“Look,” the PM said. “Fridges are a big thing. I mean they’re almost as important as buses for God’s sake! You never know when they might need inspecting. And Dom and I got our heads together and had this wonderful idea that I should be the one to check them, as I have a kind of sixth sense for fridges.”

Rumours that his own fridge is on the blink thanks to his attempts at DIY maintenance were also firmly brushed aside.

“So how do the British people feel now, eh?” he went on. “Knowing that their Prime Minister is personally looking after this vital issue, hands-on, no stone unturned.”

Well, it’s nice to know when our leaders are looking out for what matters. I wouldn’t know, I can’t remember when that last happened here.

TPA DANCING IN THE STREETS : Downing Street has moved to get alongside the furore over Jacob Rees-mogg’s celebrated reforms to voting procedure in the House of Commons.

“From today any constituency whose MP has been disenfranchised by Jacob’s Corn Laws will no longer pay tax,” a Treasury spokesman announced.

“And additionally, we will backdate refunds of all PAYE and VAT already taken to return money to voters which has arguably been taken unjustifiably since MPs, who could vote, took part in the complete farce our supposed democracy has become under the Brexiters.”

It’s not clear if the money will be wired directly into constituents’ accounts or a cheque will be put in the post.

“Mr Johnson’s personal preference is for the cheque to be in the post,” the spokesman added, “but he’ll have to clear it with Dom first.”

It must be said however, that the equanimity with which the voting changes have been received by MPs as a collective, wherein masses of colleagues have been denied their right to actively represent their constituencies in the most fundamental manner required of a functioning democracy, shows that Brexit is functioning exactly as designed.

No memorials for U.K. democracy are yet planned, because the lobotomisation of parliament is still ongoing.

The constituencies which have been stripped of democratic representation are likely to see a rash of new voter registrations too. Backdated to last week.

“People should note though that the payments will be a few weeks away,” the spokesman added, “as we need to allow time for Tory MPs to register in the afflicted boroughs, in order to receive the refunds. And for the ideal company to be found to be gifted the massive private contract which will be needed to ensure a successful scheme is in place.”

Democracy, are you missing it, now it’s gone?

A TISSUE A TISSUE : THE MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT FOR THE 14TH CENTURY, JACOB REES-MOGG, has responded to criticism of the new voting system he’s introduced into the House of Commons.

From today MPs queuing up to catch Covid-19 from each other will be able to take fun fair rides.

“The Ghost Train is a traditional feature of British fairgrounds,” an aide who works in the crypts told LCD Views, “Jacob had a vision yesterday, as he was lying in his coffin awaiting the night, and the vision was fun.”

The Ghost Train will snake its way from the start of the long queue, all the way to the House of Commons chamber, with MPs spilling off the caboose and into the division lobbies.

A traditional song, The Dance of Death, will play as the train rumbles toward its terminal point. Although there have been a few murmurings of disquiet, as the recording artist chosen is not British. But then you can reasonably be queried over policies which may inadvertently, indirectly kill some of the people some of the time, but you can’t please them all.

And it’s not just the method of shuffling off the mortal coil that is changing in Westminster, the division lobbies are getting a much needed makeover too.

“MPs won’t go into the yes or no division anymore, but into the positive or negative, this will help Matt Hancock as he ramps up his CV-19 testing stats. If we’re testing people, they can’t be dying. That’s some clever thinking right there.”

But there has been one other area of criticism.

“Some of the usual types, who are never happy anyway, have suggested the train should terminate at Barnard Castle, the spiritual home of Tory Covid-19, but that would just keep Dominic Cummings undermining the rule of law in the headlines. We wouldn’t want that.”

Get your ticket today, just be sure to self isolate, at home, for fourteen days each time you ride the train. You never know what the person next to you maybe carrying on any given day. Well you would if we had an efficient, publicly run, infectious disease control strategy, but this is Tory run UK.

WE’RE AN ISLAND PEOPLE AND WE DO THINGS DIFFERENTLY HERE : LOCAL DEMOCRACY FOR LOCAL PEOPLE took a great leap forward yesterday after the successful trial run of a new voting system for UK MPs.

“It is rumoured that the new voting system, whereby MPs shuffle about like chumps for hours, was cooked up by Dominic Cummings and Boris Johnson as a power play over parliament,” our Downing Street interpreter interprets, “is parliament sovereign? Not if we can make absolute tits of the lot of them. How about we throw 21st century technology in the skip, in the middle of a pandemic, and co-opt MPs into a scheme to actively disenfranchise hundreds of their colleagues?”

Quite the wheeze.

And a complete success.

“The new system is not designed to be permanent,” our interpreter continues, “it was more like an initiation ritual at a private school, wherein the new kids are made to embarrass themselves completely in front of everyone. It’s to show who has power, and who has not.”

Jacob Rees-mogg, the supposed architect of the long queue voting system, found himself laughed at as the public and press witnessed the charade play out.

“Who’s the bigger fool? The boy who insists you put a hot crumpet between your buttocks, or the one who puts a hot crumpet between their buttocks?”

A good question.

“If you want to delegitimise parliament in the eyes of the people, as you continue your slow grind to turn a representative parliamentary democracy into an elected dictatorship, you can’t do a lot better than to order MPs to humiliate themselves in public.”

And even as they participated in the ritual, numerous MPs tweeted how stupid it was, while being stupid enough to go along with it.

Although it wasn’t all bad. The smallest man currently in the House of Commons, in all senses, got to show just how small he was. Which was some small consolation. Have a smirk.

The most @MarkFrancois12 moment ever pic.twitter.com/RQxdSWgNkw

— Jake Field-Gibson (@jwfieldgibson) June 2, 2020

“Mogg survived having a nap on the green benches last year,” our correspondent continues, “he’s survived blaming Grenfell victims for their deaths. He’ll survive being laughed at over the new voting system. This is because he’s really laughing at you. All of you.”

The only thing that remains now is whether or not the UK’s politicians, people who are supposed to understand politics, will realise how completely, symbolically, publicly and easily they’ve all been played? How they actively participated in robbing hundreds of constituencies of representation.

“Bad things happen when good people do nothing,” our correspondent adds, “and yesterday good people did a bad thing. So really, we’re even further around the S bend then we thought. But what do you expect when a country’s elected representatives allow the entire nation to be reorientated based on the result of a criminally corrupted opinion poll, now years old. Funny kinda democracy you’ve got there.”

Now we just wait to see how many MPs test positive for CV-19. Maybe the executive will be forced, with a heavy heart, to send them all home, permanently. For their own safety, you understand.

“I for one would like our elected representatives to be a bit more clued up to how they’re being played. And to remember the power they possess, before they’re robbed of it. In broad daylight. With their own active participation. And the next time Cummings decides to hold you all in contempt, maybe don’t go along with it?”

And now, to end, here’s a link to a video of a government minister who does his job well, with intelligence and public interest foremost. Spoiler alert, he’s not elected to the mother of parliaments, but he is refreshing to view. An example of where we should look to get back to.

WILL OF THE PEOPLE: There is nothing wrong with streamlining parliament, according to Jacob Rees-Mogg. At least that is our best guess at what he said, after filtering his schoolboy Latin through an online translation service.

Decisions will be reached much more quickly without having to endure troublesome debates or awkward opposition. Instead, a hand-picked selection of obedient MPs will attend in order! order! to nod through whatever legislation Dominic Cummings wishes them to.

Removal of the franchise coincides neatly with removal of other rights, unless you happen to be one of the fortunate feudal lords ramming the legislation through what remains of parliament.

“This ramps up the whole business of taking back control,” remarked supine yes-man Job Dunn MP. “The government’s entire lack of strategy will enable our natural leaders to reclaim rights eroded by stroppy serfs getting above their station!”

This, then, is democracy.

“Of course it is,” retorts Dunn. “The People had a vote, which means we have a massive mandate to do whatever we want!”

And what is it that we want?

“Let me check,” said Dunn, pulling out a sheet of official notepaper bearing the inscription ‘From the office of Dominic Cummings’. “Ah yes,” he said, peering closely at the text. “Restore ancient privileges, remove onerous and intrusive legislation (especially concerning rights currently assigned to the lower orders), decrease surplus population by natural or natural-seeming processes, not-for-profit organisations banned… That’s the gist of it,” he concluded.

So Jacob Rees-Mogg’s announcement is totally in line with your understanding of what democracy means?

“Power to the privileged!” cried Dunn, tugging his forelock obsequiously. “Parliament will eventually assume a ceremonial function, like the monarchy. Wasteful and inefficient elections will be replaced by an interview process, so that only the very best will represent Mr Rees-Mogg’s interests!”

And where will these brave new leaders work from?

“55 Tufton Street will be the new seat of power!”

What a surprise.

WHAT’S THE RUSH DOT COM : THE UK’S prime minister, Dominic “contempt of parliament” Cummings, has made a firm commitment to the people who voted to be ruled by an unelected bureaucrat in Durham, not Brussels.

“Unlike the tyrannical, super state across the ENGLISH CHANNEL, we are now a healthy, hereditary democracy,” Mr Cummings wrote on his blog (while also amending a post from 2012 that predicted the Olympics’ opening ceremony would feature men dressed as knights, with St George crosses on their shields, and nothing else).

Thereafter several thousand words followed, most of which attempted to compare Mr Cumming’s driving skills, even while blindfolded, as equal to famous Chinese rally driver Tsun Zu’s.

Eventually he cycled back to the point he began at.

“Mr Johnson will resign his seat at the forthcoming 2020 December General Election. He will thereafter serve as my SPAD, after I am elected with an overwhelming majority in the seat of Uxbridge and South Ruislip. This will ensure a smooth transition of power from me to me, with Mr Johnson still worn as the fig leaf over my engorged, sociopathic member.”

But critics have leapt on the assertions and demanded to know how Mr Cummings can predict the future so confidently, when he failed so completely to prepare the UK for the Covid-19 pandemic he claims to have foreseen coming?

In response we imagined an honest reply.

“Who controls the voting system in the House of Commons? Who runs the postal voting system? Who is about to redraw the constituency boundaries? Who has failed to release the Intelligence Report into Russian Interference in UK Democracy? Who took the UK out of the EU based on a ‘mandate’ from an advisory referendum so corrupt, had it been legally binding it would have been quashed and re-run? Need I go on. Some things are just a foregone conclusion.”

REAL MEN DON’T LOOK BACK AT EXPLOSIONS : THE UK’S HEAD OF STATE, DOMINIC “CONTEMPT OF EVERYTHING” CUMMINGS has made a pleasing gesture towards his government’s ceremonial figurehead.

In an announcement earlier today he said he will allow the shambling haystack that fulfils the role of puppet prime minister out to play. He will be however confined to an area with limited chance of meeting a member of the public, so as to avoid spontaneous booing, and somewhere where a close eye can be kept on him, even if he thinks no one is watching.

“Boris is like a puppy,” a spokesman for 10 Downing Street’s chief told LCD Views, “he’s full of boundless energy. If we don’t let him burn some of it off he starts chewing people’s shoes and the housetraining goes right out the window. Currently slinking away and pulling waitresses is not possible, we’ve decided to let him out to run about. Now and then. In the hope he doesn’t hump the beanbags.”

The exercise will be off leash due to the good security and high walls of Buckingham Palace.

“There’s no way he could climb over them. Not in his condition.”

As to whether or not there were any targets for the exercise, steps or miles etc, we decided to ask the holder of the once powerful, but now symbolic role, of prime minister himself.

“Woof. Woof! Grrrrrr. Woof!”

We wiped the slobber off, had the response translated and discovered he said,

“Oh, I’m not allowed to set any targets anymore, that’s for my owner to do.”

Don’t look now: following hot on the heels of news that MPs’ spines are kept in a Westminster vault, comes the discovery of the MPs themselves. They have been locked away in the cells in Barnard Castle, where a close eye could be kept on them.

Lockdown means lockdown, and in such strange times both the population and the message must be tightly controlled. To facilitate this, all Conservative MPs lacking the initiative to think independently were asked to volunteer for social distancing. Stay home, stay safe, was the message.

An Englishman’s home is Barnard Castle, writes the soothsayer Nostracummings. Thus persuaded, the MPs willingly surrendered their freedom, and their Twitter accounts, and went into isolation.

In order that government could still take place, the isolated MPs were permitted to join in with Zoom conferences from their cells. Unfortunately, Barnard Castle is a bit of a WiFi blackspot. The cell phones refused to connect, so the imprisoned heroes were obliged to revert to pigeon post. It is entirely wrong to read anything into the Cummings family’s fondness for pigeon pie.

Barnard Castle is fast becoming a place of pilgrimage. It is here, on the Road to Durham, that the scales fell from Saint Dominic’s eyes. He was able to see the way forward clearly at last, which is fortunate because some trickster had pinched the sign pointing the way to London at junction 61 of the A1(M).

This miraculous conversion, to the Broad Church of Caring Conservatism, meant that Saint Dominic, following His instincts as a Father to His flock, undertook the dangerous missionary journey to The North. There He ensured that the subdued members were sufficiently underfed.

The noble Saint allegedly made this journey on five subsequent occasions, but kept this quiet so as not to boast about His charitable nature.

It’s time to move on. The canonisation of Saint Dominic, the Apostle of Herd Immunity, is the real story here.

Better the devil you know: Lockdown means lockdown, unless you are the Prime Minister’s Very Specialest special advisor. However, defending “Classic” Dom Cummings means fatally undermining the government’s message. Who to choose? Devilish Dom, or the deep, uncharted waters of Shit Creek?

Johnson is going to have to paddle hard.He is in the worst possible bind he could imagine. Johnson is going to have to make a decision on his own.This must be the first time in his pampered existence that he has not had anyone to tell him what to do.

He can’t listen to Dom this time. Even Johnson must know that a line has been crossed. But it is a big decision. Who to throw under the bus? The architect of his Great Victory, or the mass of braying cheerleaders, and in fact the entire foundation of British Democracy? Dither, Delay, Indecision.

It has come to this. Hundreds of loyal, if misguided, Conservative MPs, including cabinet ministers, rushed to defend Classic Dom. But defending Dom means destroying the government’s message. So. Devil. Deep Blue Sea.

Take Back Control? They have totally lost control.

What will Johnson do? This is where strong leadership counts. LCD Views’ Number Ten mole, Liv Inahole, has the latest gossip.

“It’s bedlam, quite frankly,” she reports. “Nobody knows their arse from their elbows. I am extremely glad that I don’t need the toilet.”

Where are they meeting? What is being said?

“They are meeting in the kitchen,” replied Inahole. “That’s because that is where the fridge is. I hear that the Prime Minister has barricaded himself in behind the cheese and the random bottle of relish that went out of date in 2013.”

Is there any progress?

“None,” she said. “Everybody has totally lost their shit, the fan is covered in the stuff, and Dom is doing his nut.”

Time for Boris to take the plunge.

Pick on someone your own size! Bullying is Priti appalling, and our leaders should set a good example and at least pretend not to do it.

Our revered Send ‘Em Home Secretary is at the forefront of this initiative. She intends to literally stamp out bullying by sending the boys round to anyone who accuses her of being a bully.

“It’s the only language these people understand,” explained Patel in her Home Office dungeon, the light glinting off her PVC dominatrix outfit. “Throwing accusations around doesn’t help anybody, least of all me.”

She tapped the baseball bat against her palm in a gentle, yet unmistakeably threatening manner.

“My loyal task force are ready to rebut any allegations, however truthful,” she smirked, fondling the selection of whips at her whip hand. “Their motto is, use as much task force as necessary.”

How do you respond to reports that you personally have insulted and belittled your staff, so much so that they became suicidal?

“These people need to be taught a lesson!* she growled, her eyes flashing dangerously. “Spot! Fido! Heel!”

Two men crawled out of the shadows and knelt obediently at her stillettoed feet.

“You heard!” she commanded. “Find them! Bring them to me! Succeed, and you may have some scraps from my table. Go!”

She advanced, menacingly. “Nobody badmouths Priti Patel without suffering the consequences,” she hissed. “It doesn’t matter whether they are an environment ministry drone or a puffed-up bureaucrat. Me and my mates will, erm, persuade them never to do it again. And some of my goons, I mean friends, are very persuasive indeed.”

She casually fondled a knuckleduster. “Don’t you dare quote me on that!” she whispered with barely concealed malice. “Now, hand over all your devices and rhdhgwabjhgsCHTSb….”

LCD Views’ Behind The Bike Sheds correspondent has not been seen for several days now.