Category: Governing the people

LCD Views has taken time out of our frenetic schedule this morning to spend a moment with the leader of Global Britain. We’re broadcasting our conversation live, so you don’t have to.

INT    10 DOWNING STREET – DUNGEON

We stand on a floor slick with something, bodily fluids? Mental discharge? The lighting is poor, just a few flickering incandescent bulbs, and we can’t tell what we’re standing in. But we’re certain we shouldn’t have worn our new trainers.

We can hear screams in distant corridors. Toilets flush constantly.

An aproned MEDIC, wearing a face mask, rushes into view. The MEDIC holds a giant syringe. The MEDIC skids to a halt and turns to face us.

MEDIC : “Two days wrong! I told you butter wouldn’t suit the works! It was the best butter!”

The MEDIC leaves.

A GHOST enters dragging a long chain. He looks uncannily like Philip Hammond. He doesn’t face us, he just keeps dragging that chain across the floor.

GHOST (ghostly) : There’s no money left. There’s no money left. There’s no money left.

The GHOST sinks into the floor and is gone.

We turn now in a circle. We see the walls. Strange bricks. We go closer. We push our fingertip against one. It’s a little squishy. The bricks look like hunks of gammon.

We turn back and see there’s a man facing us. An old fashioned BRICKLAYER. He’s carrying a HOD. It’s piled high with gammon bricks.

BRICKLAYER : Be a sport.

LCD Views : Excuse me?

BRICKLAYER : You’re about seeing the old Maybot?

LCD Views : We don’t really need to…

BRICKLAYER : They all say that what come down here. Ha! be a diamond and take her this hod.

The BRICKLAYER shoves the hod at us. We take it. We don’t have a choice.

LCD Views : Are these bricks made of gammon?

BRICKLAYER : You are trying to understand madness with logic. (pause) Hurry along now. Don’t keep the old go home van waiting!

LCD Views : How do I find her?

BRICKLAYER : Just follow the sound of the flushing toilets.

The BRICKLAYER leaves.

The sound of flushing toilets grows louder and louder.

We leave the room, carrying the gammon hod.

Down a corridor of mirrors. So many wrong turns. So many reflections of gammon bricks. Just so much gammon.

But a door opens. It’s light inside. We enter.

INT  THE OFFICE OF THE PRIME MINISTER

THERESA MAY is very busy. She stands next to a wheelbarrow of cement. She holds a trowel. She’s busy fitting gammon bricks into the far wall. But each time she fits one, another falls out. They hit the floor with a wet smack.

In the corner a toilet constantly flushes.

CLOSE ON

A gap in the wall. See through it. On the other side are all the varied people of Europe.

THERESA MAY : Come out, damned spot! Out, I command you! One, two. OK, it’s time to do it now.

LCD Views : The bricklayer asked us to…

THERESA MAY turns to us. She looks a little manic.

THERESA MAY : Why should we be scared, when no one can lay the guilt upon us?

THERESA MAY takes the hod.

LCD Views : Ms May, why do you change your mind each and every day?

THERESA MAY pauses, gammon brick in one hand. Give it a little, loving squeeze.

THERESA MAY : I do it so my subjects do not have to. They’re not allowed to. So I do it so they don’t have to.

THERESA MAY turns back to her wall. She slaps down some cement and shoves in a gammon brick.

THERESA MAY : Go away, go away, go away.

We go, we go away. As another gammon brick hits the floor.

The Queen’s plea for The People to find common ground has been countered by Theresa May. There is no longer any common ground, she says, since fracking commenced.

Number Ten spin doctor Tori Trayter gave the official announcement to a hand-picked audience of Daily Express ‘journalists’.

“We have informed Her Majesty that all common ground has been repurposed as fracking sites,” she declared. “In addition, she has been reminded to keep her privileged, wrinkly nose out of politics, since her ancestors devolved power to the Conservative Party several hundred years ago.”

Surely, ventured one rebellious character, common ground refers to a meeting of minds?

“Nonsense!” bellowed Trayter. “Common means common. Common ground is for common people, and the common people have no business except to do and think what we tell them to. And, never forget, your job is to help make it happen.”

The journalist attempted to speak again, but Trayter cut him short.

“Common means communism!” she shrieked. “If you carry on like this, a fate worse than death awaits you – writing for The Guardian!”

LCD Views, wishing to discover the other side of the story, sent their Royalties correspondent to Sandringham. The correspondent bumped into an old lady called Liz, who was out walking some corgis.

“One is frankly disgusted,” said Liz. “One is considering whether to withdraw the Royal Assent as a protest. If one’s subjects refuse to respond to what one says, what’s the point in being the monarch? One yearns for the simpler times, when one could behead the jumped-up little squits. One wishes that one’s subjects would fall into line the moment one said, ‘Who’s Queen?’”

She sighed, and adjusted her EU-blue hat.

“What is more,” she continued, “One’s Prime Minister has informed one that prospecting for oil will commence immediately on one’s front lawn. That woman has no manners. Even that ghastly Thatcher woman had a modicum of respect. Now one must continue to exercise one’s corgis, because if one doesn’t, Boris here will spend all evening humping one’s leg while one is trying to watch Tipping Point.”

Fracked Britain, fractured Britain. It’s a fracking disgrace.

LCD Views can report on a great leap forwards for normalising electoral crime in the UK today with the tabling of a cross party amendment relating to what lives and breathes in Brexit.

The amendment, nicknamed ‘Fill the Swamp’, has been tabled jointly by Brexit supporting Tory and Labour MPs, who are gaily going about their taxpayer funded business day in and day out, while ignoring massive amounts of electoral crime.

“It’s vital that we clarify this point so political parties, and pressure groups funded by dark money from overseas, know what the goal posts are for any future moment when the British people maybe asked to vote,” Mr Fool Rorty, MP for Blinkers-on-Bonkers, told us,

“my amendment, which has backing on both sides of the house, will clarify just how much electoral crime is needed to equal ‘will of the people’?”

It’s expected speaker John Bercow will choose the amendment for debate today, after the MPs supporting it surrounded his house on all sides with catapults.

“It’s easy enough to find dead cows to fire at houses if you bother to spend a little time with a shotgun in the countryside,” Mr Rorty told us, “I can’t see any reason why the amendment, which aims to crystallise what amounts to representative democracy in a modern United Kingdom, won’t be chosen for debate.”

But even if Bercow concedes to the threat of aerial bovine attack, ‘Fill the Swamp’ is facing opposition from certain members of the ERG.

“They’re not happy with the detail,” Mr Rorty shrugs, “but when do they ever do detail? Why the hell do the BBC often announce their full name as if it has any validity at all? What evidence of them doing any research, except for how to stage a far right coup, has anyone ever seen?”

Fair questions. But what’s their issue with fill the swamp?

“Oh, they say they can’t support it unless it includes an amnesty for any elected member of the house and their backers who may, just may, be found to be implicated in electoral crime now, or in the future, once the public inquiries into what the hell happened between 2016 to now have begun.”

LCD Views has breaking news this morning about ladies who dine with the shock revelation that British prime minister Arlene Foster played an impromptu call on her underling Theresa May last Friday night.

”It’s believed Theresa had just gotten cosy by the roaring fire at Chequers, to discuss a cunning plan with Mr May, to do with how PM announcements impact on currency fluctuations on the exchanges, and who should and should not be possibly privy to when the speeches will be made, in order to call yourself a healthy democracy. when there was a knock at the door.”

The knock was from the hardened knuckles of one of Northern Ireland’s more puritanical British subjects, and her husband.

”They brought some other people along too. It was set to be quite the unplanned party.”

Ms May was said to be somewhat flustered as her cunning plan for the evening fell apart.

”You think she’d be used to that by now. Every cunning plan she puts into action falls apart. She only keeps her job because no one else wants it until she’s delivered the pay off. And then she’ll be hung out to dry faster than a wet pair of nun’s knickers.”

It must be hard to know which way to turn some days for Ms May. Does she work for Rupert Murdoch still? Or is it now the DUP? Or do they have the office of PM on a timeshare?

So what happened?

”The DUP Whiteadders came in and the Downing Street Blackadders sat them down to dinner. It was a little frosty to start, but once conversation turned to burying evidence of massive data crimes, and hiding sources of dark money, the atmosphere soon become positively chummy. To these characters that sort of chat is like extra strong alcohol.”

And what did they dine on?

”A giant British turnip shaped exactly like a thingy. Ms May’s dog’s body, Rory Stewart, had spent all their money on it!”

Which, when you think about it, is exactly what the U.K. is doing to achieve Brexit.

“Yes. Allowing the government to spend every last penny we have on a giant vegetable in the shape of a willy! What are we like?”

Former Prime Minister and reigning Twat of the Year David Cameron has spotted a business opportunity. The twat who fled to a shed instead of doing his job has offered his services to governments worldwide who seek drastic regime change.

The portly pompous pig fancier has issued his CV directly to leaders of prosperous, well-run countries across the globe.

LCD Views has had sight of the document. The most illuminating section is ‘Hobbies and Interests’. Among other items, Cameron includes Politics, Ruining the Country, and Erections in the Garden. Oddly enough, Shagging a Pig’s Head, Losing Children in the Supermarket, and Gambling the Country’s Future For A Bag Of Magic Beans fail to merit a mention.

Cameron has allegedly gained a lot of interest from a number of shady South American countries. He has many contacts in the rarefied world of rich upper class swindlers through his schooling at Eton. According to official estimates, about 75% of corrupt politicians went to Eton.

Our Dave has his mind on loftier concerns. No banana republic for him, he wants the bigger prize of a first-rate, wealthy country. Germany, for example.

His prospectus takes up the story. “David Cameron offers his unique services to national governments worldwide. If your electorate is too wealthy and settled, leaving fewer than the desired opportunities for entrepreneurial self-enrichment, Cameron provides the solution. To organise a coup against yourself, Cameron provides superficially competent leadership while fomenting unrest and division. A totally unnecessary period of austerity will cause dissatisfaction in the populace. Contacts in the prestigious sectors of data mining and propaganda will help to fan the flames. Finally, a referendum on the country’s future will be held, offering a lose-lose outcome. The currency will plummet, the economy will fail, and businesses will flee. Naturally, for well-placed individuals, this creates gilt-edged opportunities to purchase assets cheaply and to consolidate their wealth.”

A video has been released featuring Donald Tusk’s advice to Cameron on the subject. “Why does everybody hate me?” asks Cameron. “I told you not to hold a referendum,” says Tusk. “But you wouldn’t listen.”

Cameron’s fee is reputed to be in 7 figures. Failure doesn’t come cheap.

The people of Great Britain and Northern Ireland are to learn today that the strong and stable government of Theresa May has now gone certifiably, batshit crazy, beyond any reasonable doubt. Something many already suspect.

“The more the British people, and their elected representatives in parliament, act in defiance of the high priestess of Brexit, the crazier the priestess will get now,” LCD Views ‘guano is a state of mind’ correspondent reports,

“The God of Brexit must be sated. Theresa May knows this. It’s the only thing that matters now, ensuring the world is forced to conform to her fantasy version of it. So if that means dressing up as a religious functionary from a doomed civilisation and dragging people to the sacrificial slab? She’ll do it.”

Disregard for human life is nothing new to the May administration. You only have to look at the Hostile Environment policies, the complete failure to react to Grenfell for day after day, the overall sociopathy of her immigration policies and Universal Credit.

“But now we’re to step it up a gear to mollify Brexit and beg it to deliver the sunlit uplands promised in the days before ‘adequate food’ and mass fridge purchasing were the go.”

It’s not clear where the temple to hold the rituals will be built, but early focus is on anywhere along the invisible border between Northern Ireland and the Republic.

”We just better pray there’s no solar eclipse due in the next year,” our analyst says, “because one of those will really be a trigger for all sorts of additional, costumed lunacy.”

Comrade Jeremy Corbyn, leader of the opposition (in name only) has had another whiff of power. He has decided that the best way to experience the thrill of unshackled success is to copy his mentor, and run through a field of wheat.

This is not the first whiff of power Corbyn has had. When jostling for the middle class vote, he ran through a field of quinoa.

Corbyn’s biggest whiff of the afore-mentioned addictive substance came when he appeared at Glastonbury. In this occasion he ran, naked from the waist down, through a field of wigwams. The allegations are that he had a headache that day, and misguidedly purchased a couple of ‘aspirin’ from a pie-eyed hippy in a ramshackle yurt.

Each of these stunts has elevated his national leadership approval ratings. He is currently in third place in the polls, behind Theresa May and Don’t Know.

Momentum member Brian Washing tried to explain his position. “Momentum means Momentum,” he clarified. “Which means we just keep going on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and…”

More pertinently, Corbyn superfan Sikka Fantic defended his master’s choice. “Jeremy is a free spirit,” he waffled. “Why do you think he spends so much time gardening? You can excuse him for mistaking the opposition front bench for a nice comfy sofa for snoozing on. Jeremy has been dreaming of a wheatfield run since childhood!”

“…on, and on, and on, and on, and…” continued Washing.

The man himself was delighted with his rural odyssey. “I discovered that if you run around in circles, the press come and take hundreds of photographs!” said Corbyn happily. “Lots of good publicity and talk of alien landings. Hopefully the aliens will be Labour voters!”

Nobody is quite sure whether aliens would be eligible to vote in an election, or even a referendum. Meanwhile, the search for an old man’s marbles continues.

Britain’s greatest living zygote, David Cameron (no longer an MP) has generously offered to lead a government of national unity to resolve what appears to be a minor national crisis.

”I can do it in my spare time,” Mr Cameron advised, “you know, when I’m not working on my memoirs. Which I’m not working on full time.”

The offer, from a statesman who arguably has had a greater impact on the course of modern British history than even George Galloway, is not one to be dismissed out of hand.

”I think tomorrow, you know, after I’ve finisjef buying some high grade skunk off a hoodie I got to know on a hugging spree,” Mr Cameron illuminated, “I’ll rock on down to my old pad and offer Theresa the chance to be the deputy of someone other than a Unionist. We will smoke a few bowls and look forward to just chillaxing our way through Brexit baby. Yeah.”

But critics have attacked the open handed gesture from Briton’s greatest living diarest.

”They’re just jealous of his book deal,” famous five survivor, and now scrap metal dealer, Timmy commented, “he’s like smashed it on the advance. Amaze balls. Pity he spunked it all on meth. Ha! Hey, is that fridge in your backyard to go?”

Bit critics notwithstanding, Mr Cameron’s big hearted offer also has the support of the Labour leader.

”Anything to keep me out of the job till after Lexit happens brother,” Mr Corbyn chuckled, “I mean comrade. It’ll give me time to get on with my plan to open The Jeremy Corbyn School of Political Strategy.”

We await with pork scratching bated breath to see if the screechingly terrified executive of Theresa May accepts the offer, but in the meantime we advise you to get high and tune out.

Britain’s hard of hearing prime minister, Theresa May, has been on a late night Amazon Prime binge after inviting her political opponents around for conciliatory talks.

LCD Views’ online frenzies correspondent was leaked a copy of the digital receipt and provides the scoop of what she bought.

“Ear muffs. Ear plugs. Cotton wool. Blinkers. A big packet of baby wipes? Presumably for cleaning the wax off her fingertips after she removes them from her ears. It’s goes on like this. Oh, and lumber and tools to build a trap door. I can’t think what that’s for? But I’d recommend anyone stopping by for a chat doesn’t stand on a rug.”

Anything else?

“Imodium. Not the branded one. A cheaper knock off available from an online pharmacy. A truly epic amount. Probably a fatal dose if it’s all taken at once.”

Is the Imodium for her callers?

“I suspect it’s for the entire government.”

So what olive branch will she offer her opponents?

“I expect she’ll wait for them to offer her one and then tear it from their hands and beat them with it. Then she’ll put on her biggest power chain and give a press conference and present anything constructive as her own idea.”

Anything else to note?

“Polish. A lot of polish.”

She’s inviting representatives from another EU country around too? She really is trying.”

“No. Polish to shine up the anchor chain she wears around her neck.”

If you can’t blind them with science or baffle them with bullshit…

“Blind them with the light.”

So what will she tell anyone who stops by?

“I reckon she’ll open with, ‘On the 23rd June 2016, the British people decided…”

Sounds like she’s not the only one who’ll be needing the ear plugs.

The occupants of 10 Downing Street awoke this morning to the alarming spectacle of an infamous ‘Go Home’ van parked outside 10 Downing Street.

“They were pretty sure it was put there out of spite by the guy living at 11 Downing Street,” an aide to the occupants of No 10 told LCD Views,

“but I don’t think so, he’s just covering his ass like the rest of the gutless wonders blinking in the headlights as the karma train pulls into town. Ready to dash to the safety of a non-exec board position as soon as the aforementioned karma train demolishes their administration.”

Quite how the main occupant of 10 Downing Street, someone whose every pre-planned utterance can impact the currency exchanges, is allowed to live there with an intimate acquaintance whose business is hedge funds, is anyone’s guess.

“That’ll be part of the post-Brexit public inquiries. You know, the great squeezing out of puss from the boil on the backside of the British body politic.”

But what is certain is that the ‘Go Home’ van is present outside No 10 because the architect of so many inhumane and vicious person hating policies has managed, through nothing more than her own delusions, pigheadedness and idiocy, to manufacture what is an increasingly hostile environment politically for herself.

And while who parked the van there is still not certain, unlike the ‘Go Home’ vans made famous by Theresa May, architect of the hostile environment policies that targeted people based on what their favourite food smelt like, this ‘Go Home’ van is justified and there to remove someone who to all appearances has gone completely insane.