Category: Governing the people

British politics emptiest vessel, David Cameron, famous for allegedly shagging a dead pig in the head (we only mention this whenever we can because we’re gutter press), has spoken today in an imaginary interview about the fixed term parliament act.

“Pull the other one,” the vapid void chugged, “it’s got pork in it.”

The soundless cymbal’s guff was a retort to a question we put to him in all seriousness. That being,

Do you think the fixed term parliament act has emboldened some MPs to lie? Like, all the bloody time?

“I have no regrets.”

That wasn’t the question.

“I did not have sexual relations with that pig.”

That also is not the question. What is the question is do you think the fixed term parliament act, brought in under your premiership, has emboldened some MPs to lie through their teeth as they fear less the consequences? Who cares if you cheese off the electorate, five years as an MP is enough to pad the nest forever and off you go to your pension and non-exec board position?

“I figured five years was how long we needed to properly stitch up the doe eyed LibDems and then get back to two party politics.”

That’s a surprisingly honest answer, but you haven’t answered the question.

So again, so many MPs, from both Labour and Conservative, lie continually and provably to the public, is there any connection to the fixed term parliament act, brought in under your premiership, do you think?

“I don’t think. Well, not a lot. I do think about…are you any good at finishing off a memoir?”

Is it a memoir that ends in complete and utter failure, after a time as a PM during which you promoted people with misguided ideologies, zero empathy and set the country up for one of the greatest self inflicted calamities for a very long time, before buggering off into a shed you were happy to boast cost the average annual income?

“That’s the one. Don’t mention the pig though.”

I think we’ll let you stew on that one yourself. We’re sure you’ll pull through.

“I keep scratching away.”

David Cameron, thank you for your imaginary time.

“Where do I send the bill?”

A shocking leak suggests that Brexit, like Christmas, is cancelled. Michel Barnier and Theresa May have collaborated on the diabolical con. May will then present her “deal” as a perfect Brexit.

Maintaining the Status Quo will both satisfy all of May’s red lines, and ensure a steady stream of cheerful three-chord boogie songs for the foreseeable future.

Illusionist Picker Card was on hand to unpick this crafty sleight-of-hand.

“It’s just like magic!” exclaimed Card. “The whole problem is solved in one easy step. If enough of your audience believe their eyes, then facts don’t matter. Who cares that the rabbit you apparently pulled from the hat was, in fact, concealed in a secret compartment? People want to believe.”

This non-Brexit deal is one hell of a rabbit, though. But it makes perfect sense. Enough people want Brexit to happen, and will believe whatever suits their narrative. So tell them that Brexit has happened, and was a roaring success, and we have the deal we wanted, and Brexiters will celebrate.

Surely, though, there will be some who smell a rat? “Smelling a rat is better than having to eat one,” commented cynical commentator Doug Deeply. “If pulling the wool over people’s eyes is the best way forward, then so be it. After all, that has always been the way the whole pro-Brexit campaign operates.”

There remains the problem of forcing the non-deal through parliament. “No problem!” asserts Deeply. “May will tell parliament that she has the deal, and that the EU has capitulated and given us everything we wanted. Everyone will be so relieved that they won’t bother to read the document, just vote the deal through and go home.”

If something is too good to be true, it probably is. But in modern politics you go on gut feeling, not facts. So by the time anyone discovers that Brexit means remaining in the EU, and that they didn’t know what they were voting for, it will be too late.

Now give us our blue passports and let’s get on with life.

Damascus, the Syrian capital, is sadly a destination to die for. Quite literally, during the conflict. In an attempt to resolve matters at home and abroad, our very own ‘Mr Nige’ll Fixit’, Nigel Farage, is alleged to be planning a visit, having merrily used the refugees from the conflict to his own ends, he’s taking a hands on interest. That said, the man himself has immediately scotched these hopeful rumours.

“It is categorically not true!” thundered Farage from the snug at Ye Olde Trippe To Damascus. “I wouldn’t go there if you paid me! Now, if Arron Banks paid me, it would be a totally different story.”

Nevertheless, there have been sightings of a big red bus around the country, with the destination board reading ‘Damascus’ and the legend ‘We spend far too much money on overseas aid, let’s go on a jolly instead’ painted on the side.

LCD Views’ Foolish Female Feline Fancier correspondent, so named by BBC pillar Andrew Neil, Una Preciated, sent her cats out into the garden so she could investigate.

Within days her research had uncovered emails between Farage and both Viktor Orban and Recep Tayyip Erdogan that clearly indicated a joint visit to Syria. In an unashamed bid to become deputy editor, she described Farage’s Hungarian contacts as ‘No longer an Orban myth’.

Syrian Arab Airlines then disclosed to Preciated that Mr Farage had bought a return flight to Damascus that very morning. Naturally, we contacted him for comment immediately.

“Hang on a sec, I need to switch to airplane mode,” came that familiar voice. “There. Now, there is no truth that I am on my way to a road near Damascus, indeed I am broadcasting a pre-recorded show on LBC right now. Tune in if you don’t believe me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to call Barnier to authorise my expenses.”

Hopeful observers are anticipating that Farage will undergo a Pauline conversion. The scales will fall from his eyes, and Pauline Farage will return, a changed man, and a champion of transgender and other PC gone mad! rights.

Countrywide cut price pub chain Wetherspoons has announced the launch of its very own branded “Brexmas Crackers”, in an effort to cheer up the nation, ahead of Christmas.

“We – by which I mean I – felt that there was so much doom and gloom about head of our triumphant re-emergence next March 30th as a truly independent nation, free from the shackles of European slavery that we should do something positive to cheer people up,” grinned fabulously rich Wetherspoons chairman, Jim “Bungle the Bear” Wetherspoon.

The new crackers which combine traditional British Christmas imagery with a topical celebration of Brexit, come in boxes of six retailing for a very reasonable £2.99, and are being manufactured to time honoured British standards somewhere unpronounceable in China.

According to Wetherspoon, the crackers combine the “holy trinity” of “bang”,  “paper hat” and “uplifting motto”,  although he conceded that as with all cheap imported crackers, half the bangs will actually be whimpers.

“But that is quite clearly also a great British tradition,” he added, confirming that however the crackers would not contain the traditional  “pointless plastic toy”

“That would have added an extra 2p a unit and eaten into my Christmas bonus,” explained Wetherspoon, adding that instead, each paper hat has been specially printed with slogans like “I voted Brexit”, “A nation once again” and “Let’s get pissed and make Tim even Richer”.

Even better, he explained, each cracker contains a special inspiring motto by either one of the many former Brexit secretaries, or a leading Brexit campaigner designed to lift the spirits (£3.50 a shot, before 6pm) ahead of Christmas.

“What could be more uplifting than a reminder from Michael Gove that “We hold all the cards”…or an inspirational Russian one liner from Arron Banks such as ” Ты смотришь на меня или пить Коктейль Новичок?” he grinned, admitting that he can’t understand a word of Russian.

“Although I can confirm categorically that it doesn’t mean “yet another scam to screw money out of our dumb punters, I mean it’s not like WE’RE crackers ho ho ho,” he added…

“MERRY BREXMAS EVERYBODY!”

“F*ck business and the tax revenue and jobs that depend on it!” Boris Johnson will bumble and aaa, and err from a loudhailer today as he takes his fight to be the leader of the modern Conservative Party into London’s square mile.

The rousing speech by the Old Etonian will be delivered non-stop for several minutes from the top of an open topped battle bus with “F*ck business!” emblazoned on the side of it and parked outside of Liverpool Street train station.

The choice of location for the protest drew this inquiring tweet from his colleague Nadine Dorries. “Why park on a street in Liverpool if you want to make yourself heard in London?”

And she wasn’t alone in rounding savagely on the cyclops of British politics.

”I’ll be staging a counter protest,” Chris Grayling (MP for Failing-everything-Failing) told us, taking time out from his schedule of watching ‘Thomas the Tank Engine’ shows for research purposes.

”I won’t let Boris have the roads uncontested just when the leadership contest is about to begin,” Grayling explained, while repeatedly stabbing himself in the face with a fork, “there will be competition from hundreds of thousands of stressed out commuters finding alternative ways to get to work after mass train cancellations and my own counter protest, battle bus with ‘Fcuk planes, trains and automobiles!’ written in magic marker on the side.”

But Boris is sure to grab the most attention as he’ll be assisted by his old friend David Davis.

”Davis is back from his unofficial trip to the United States to undermine British government policy in a privateer style and he’ll be riding alongside Boris with some massive breasted woman wearing his old campaign tee shirts, the DD ones, that crack thought up by the LBC shock jock. I just hope it rains! Ha! Hoot! Hoot!”

It looks like the stage is set in central London for a fight for the very soul of everything the Tories have managed to f*ck right up.

Buried in the small print of Theresa May’s 585 page draft Brexit deal is a small detail that nobody in the UK noticed. In addition to tying the UK to EU regulations for the foreseeable future, a sub-clause provided the twist. If approved, the document will provide for prospective MPs to pass an intelligence test.

Laughing Remainers have already dubbed this the “Dorries Test”, in honour of Leave-supporting MP Nadine Dorries. Dorries recently complained that leaving the EU will mean no future representation in the EU, and once asked what the Customs Union was long after voting against it.

“Es ist ein gut choke,” giggled EU spokesman Berndt Bridges. “Ve Chermans, ze famous sense of humour haff. Ho. Ho. Ho.”

“Why did nobody tell me that Brexit means Brexit?” wailed Dorries. “It’s hard enough being a best-selling author of airport novels without having to understand about grown-up stuff like politics.”

LCD Views’ Insomnia correspondent, ‘Sleepless’ Incey Attle, bravely ploughed through the entire 585 pages, surrounded by empty coffee mugs, to confirm the detail.

“It is indeed there,” reported Attle. “The sub-clause is written in complex legalese, so as to deceive the unwary, but the gist is that any parliamentary candidate must pass a detailed intelligence test. Also, once elected, they have a probationary period of six months during which they may be removed from office without notice.”

An appendix reveals some of the sample questions. “Please give your answers in joined-up writing and using full sentences,” the rubric commences. “Do NOT write in crayon. Marks will be deducted for using vacuous slogans instead of reasoned argument.”

The sample questions include:

1. Describe, in your own words, how the Customs Union operates.
2. Explain how membership of a Union gives you a voice, and vice versa.
3. Research the maximum recommended daily consumption of kangaroo anus for an adult female.

As many continental newspapers pointed out, this is the EU’s way of imposing intellectual sanctions on the irresponsible British. Naturally, this has gone unremarked in government circles, since these papers are all written in a foreign language.

Fearless warrior for free speech and the rights of downtrodden white men, Tommy Robinson has announced that he will not be daunted by the refusal of US authorities to grant him a visa.

Having been refused a visa to visit the US on the spurious grounds that he holds a criminal record and that last time he entered the US it was using false documents Robinson has confirmed that instead he plans to join the convoy of migrants heading across Mexico to the Texas border.

“President Trump has repeatedly warned that unless he is given billions to build a wall, there is nothing that will keep them out – so that’s me sorted,” he said, adding that he wasn’t anticipating any problem slipping across the border among thousands of dark skinned Spanish speakers.

“A bit of fake tan, a dash of hasta la vista and there will probably be truckloads of democrat snowflakes waiting to carry me across manyana,” he smirked.

“A spokesman for the caravan of thousands of impoverished central  Americans walking across Mexico pointed out that as the caravan isn’t in any organised but is just an ad hoc collection of people running for their lives from poverty, conflict and famine they don’t actually have any spokespeople, but that anyway he didn’t think anyone would object to a pasty faced English speaking “gringo” joining them.

“Maybe he’ll then realise that we aren’t the evil murdering scum we have been made out to be and will spread the word once we have risked our lives smuggling him across the border,” he said.

“Then again, maybe he’s just another self publicising racist scam artist in a stupid checked suit,” he shrugged.

UKIP MEP Patrick O’Flynn had to abandon a proposed game of five-a-side after only FOUR people turned up to play.

The match was only announced shortly early in the morning, for an 11 o’clock start, which may have some bearing. It all kicked off, or rather failed to, in drizzle at the Downing Street gates. The opposition was ready to join in the fun, with 700,000 volunteers ready to play, but wouldn’t play ball and refused to lend UKIP a ringer.

“In a way, it all went totally according to plan,” said team member Maisie Dribble. “UKIP are all for pulling out of things, which is one reason why there are so few of us.”

Dribble was hopeful that a rematch could be arranged, and called off again, before too long. “We would rather play on our own,” she explained. “Instead of engaging in a union with others, we prefer to play with ourselves.”

The opposition put out a reasoned argument. “Unlike the Kippers, we have a detailed strategy,” claimed team spokesman Onmi Edson. “We attract a broad range of disciplines, but they are very unbalanced in their team selection. The Kippers are all right wingers.”

The game was to celebrate the brand new garment that the Prime Minister for the time being, Theresa May, threw over the rotting carcass of Brexit. With a theatrical flourish, she declared “It’s the Prime Minister’s new clothes, a naked Brexit, or abandon the whole sorry mess.” Amid the cheering, the scowling Kippers decided to celebrate the possibility of a dead beast to pick over with a kickabout. Except with only 80% of a team, and no backstop, the game was as dead as the Brexit dodo.

Frustrated and soggy, the vultures departed to nurse their injured pride, and to do their research by reading Roy of the Rovers.

Meanwhile, the smell of decomposing flesh could no longer be disguised as ‘Boris after a heavy night on the lash and a dodgy kebab’. The whole affair is, at long last, producing quite a stink.

In times of trouble, and in national emergencies, the country traditionally looks to a tried and tested leader of men. Therefore, Sam Allardyce is due to be appointed as interim PM.

Big Sam is expected to bang heads together. His strategy will be no nonsense Northern straight talking, no quarter given, and the return of Wayne Rooney as permanent Captain.

There is an unfriendly match coming up with the United States of Europe. Big Sam must organise his troops quickly. But he has been hampered by the loss of a number of first teamers. Star striker Dominic Raab and midfielder Esther McVey have announced their retirement from international action today. So too permanent subs Suella Braverman and some minister for NI.

There is still an immense amount of preparation before the match. Allardyce will be looking to the front, back and opposition bench for reinforcements and braving out most of the team legging it to a tax haven.

Already Sterling has taken a dive (not for reasons above). The resulting yellow card has ruled him out of action.

Defeat looks inevitable, with no defence to speak of. Allardyce is no longer able to rely on shoehorning Irish players into the team.

Former players griping from the sidelines add to Big Sam’s problems. “Put up or shut up,” he allegedly said, so JRM did, which is why Sam finds himself unexpectedly facing into the abyss once more.

Although Jeremy Hunt has pledged to stay by Sam’s side, which has given about as much comfort as discovering the team’s dentist is Michael Gove.

The match has drawn unprecedented interest from obsessive fans. The game is anticipated to involve the entire team being offside, and many own goals being scored, definitely more than any scored in the opposition net (they’ll take care of that themselves too).

In related news, Wembley has already sold out of popcorn as fans settle in for the long game. More on this story as it illegally tackles the big game of British politics.

News is breaking all over the place, and perhaps irreparably today, that a mass order of dummies is heading for Westminster to help pacify MPs.

”The House of Commons is in a right state,” HoC crèche supervisor, Mrs Mollify told LCD Views exclusively, “I do hope the dummies are red, white and blue. The ToryKip and RedKip members will spit them immediately if they aren’t.”

The reason for the emergency bulk order is the release of the fudge Withdrawal Deal stitched up between Ms May and the EU.

”The EU have put up with the tantrums, bullying and lying for a long time. They just want our load of full diaper screeching big toddlers out the door now,” Mrs Mollify said, “and I can hardly blame them. A more entitled bunch of little shits I’ve not had to care for in all my days at the mother of parliaments. It really does make you wonder about the indulgent nature of modern parenting. Bit of strap would see a lot of them right. Although, considering the Tory ones, that’s probably just what they like! It would only encourage them!”

Whether or not the mass of dummies will pacify the MPs is anyone’s guess though.

”It might shut them up for a few minutes at least,” Mrs Mollify observes, “well, at least until they realise getting what you’ve been kicking off for isn’t guaranteed to make you happy when you see what the 27 other kids without a Withdrawal agreement, but with certainty over current and future trading circumstances, and rights for citizens, have. That’s when the foot stamping will really get going.”

Do you have any advice for the Brexit kids on the day they’re getting what they want?

”Be careful what you wish for,” Mrs Mollify advises, “you may just get it and it may not be what you really wanted after all.”

It sounds like the pacifiers aren’t the only load of dummies at Westminster.