Category: Governing the people

The once influential firebrand is the latest irrelevance to try and resurrect a flagging career. Jeremy Corbyn feels that his experience of pre-EC Britain will be vital in the post-Brexit waste.

“This is in no way like a rock star past retirement age undertaking a reunion tour,” said Corbyn’s publicist, Selby Date. “There will be past glories, yes, but a completely fresh and modern set of rehashed facsimiles masquerading as innovation.”

The Invisible Man Tour will see Corbyn phone up any of his old buddies from Socialist Worker days who still have a pulse. “He will visit all the old haunts,” explained Date. “Old mining communities will be told how the ghastly prosperity of the last 40 years is down to the EU’s so-called caring capitalism. Jeremy knows these people. He knows that they much prefer to be miserable and downtrodden.”

Former coal miner Davie Lamp agreed. “The pit was my entire life,” he says. “It was dismal, dangerous work, and even worse when we stopped arguing about pay and conditions to dig for coal.”

Lamp is excited about the Corbyn renaissance. “At last we can get back to being an insular, isolated community with an impenetrable accent,” he declared proudly. “Shops will close early on Wednesday, women will scrub the front step, the nippers will all have rickets by the age of six. We will go on strike and spend our dole money on beer and fags. It’s what made Britain great!”

Corbyn’s return from self-imposed hibernation will mean a triumphant return to the chaos and poverty of the seventies. “That’s the dream,” confirms Date. “And the democratic, elected EU, or EC, or ERG, or whatever the hell it’s called this week, can stuff its reasonable benevolence in its pipe and smoke it, if they haven’t completely banned smoking yet.”

So, former workers rise up and fight for your right to die young and in agony. As Corbyn didn’t sing, you don’t get me, I’m part of the European Union.

No, not that Johnson. The other one. The one who isn’t Boris.

BoJo’s baby brother blatantly bashed Brexit by blasting Theresa May’s latest pathetic “plan”. “I can’t support that load of old bollocks,” he said frankly. “I could quite honestly have belched a better strategy. And no, you may not call me ‘JoJo’!”

This leaves Jo Johnson in a tricky position. He is at odds with his media whore brother, his rent-a-gob sister and celebrity wannabe father. “They are no longer speaking to me,” he comments. “By displaying principles, I have betrayed the family motto ‘Nunquam Vere Dicam’. It’s quite a relief, let me tell you!”

Johnson junior joins the slow but steady trickle of MPs now opposing Brexit. Some, like Johnson, because it is clearly rubbish. Others, because their vision of modern feudalism is evaporating before their eyes.

“His Lordship is appalled at the state of affairs!” grovels Bowen Scrape, spokesflunkey of Jacob Rees-Mogg. “His Brexit Dividend of thousands of tied villeins tithing him fifty percent of everything they produce is collapsing faster than you can say Carillon.”

Conspiracy theories abound connecting lunatic politics in the UK and the USA with Russia. Dirty trickster Oskar Sczeremony claims to know the truth. “I can disclose that Vladimir Putin is not a happy bunny,” he reports. “British pragmatism is destroying his plan much too soon. If things don’t change soon, you will suddenly discover that Jeremy Corbyn makes sexist remarks, and there will be a steady flow of Russians eager to visit Salisbury Cathedral.”

Meanwhile Brexit can continue to limp towards the finish line. It’s classic misdirection. “Four months of looking elsewhere, is that too much to ask?” moans Sczeremony. “After 29 March, who gives a shit? But the Johnson brothers have ruined everything. We’d have gotten away with it if it weren’t for those meddling kids!”

That’s what they are. A pair of Johnsons.

Comrade Nigel Farage, Russian ambassador to Little England, gave much needed support today to the Downing Street plan to place all British fish in protective custody, on land, to ensure they aren’t stolen by Brussels during the closing stages of Brexit negotiations.

”I wasn’t awarded the award of the Hero of the Russian Federation because I wasn’t deeply concerned about British fish,” Farage told listeners to his breakfast programme, ‘A little dose of fash and cash’ on seriously confused broadcaster LBC today, “and my in-depth knowledge tells me that the traitor Ms May is finally seeing sense about how to protect British fishing and not have the entire industry stolen by the thugs in Brussels when it more properly should be bundled off and sold to the highest overseas bidder under the noses of indepdent operators at home.”

Under plan, said to be the brainchild of Environment Secretary Michael Gove and a hell of a lot of wishful thinking, all British fish will be written to by the Home Office and ordered to immediately present themselves for safekeeping at a British port.

The fish will then be transported to specially built dry land holiday camps, where they will wait out the reminder of Brexit negotiations and the construction of the deep water wall to be built around the British isles once we have successfully reclaimed our waters from the tyrants across the Channel.

”Lock them up!” Nigel “the rouble” Farage exalted his rapt listener, “and then throw away the key! See what Juncker makes of that!”

Fresh denials today from government that the total and complete fracking of Westminster politics by secretly funded “thinktanks” has anything to do with the earthquakes currently fracking the UK’s political landscape.

”The fact that politics is the United Kingdom are now so fracked a government drone like Secretary for Health Apps, little Matty Handoncock (MP – UKIP), can say with a straight face the government is stockpiling fridges to stockpile life saving, short shelf life medicines they won’t be able to import anyway,

”because they’re insisting private industry pays the cost and takes the risk, after spending years telling private industry to frack itself,

“and then gagging private industry so it can’t say how fracked we are, and we’ve no time to build production capacity in country before calamity, none of this has anything to do with the fracking of British politics by obscurely funded thinktanks, given democratic names to help their insidious creep across our political landscape, ideological fracking rigs in hand, like a mash up of the red weed from ‘War of the Worlds’ and a stealthy fascist takeover,” said a government spokesman appointed to speak for Downing Street by the Taxpayers Alliance, which conversely is against all taxpaying, because it’s much better to have a feudal political landscape.

But while that clarification clears way for the secretly funded thinktanks to continue their work of being the creeping damp and dry rot and fungal infections of our politics, it doesn’t explain how we arrived at a political earthquake on the scale of Brexit. Absolutely nothing at all to do with the links of serving MPs and rightwing thinktanks. Nothing at all.

So the search will go on to explain how Westminster came to experience unceasing earthquakes and if we don’t find the cause we’re all going to get fracked, really deep and really hard.

”It’s got nothing to do with the fracking thinktanks,” the TPA appointed government spokesman reiterated. Indeed.

The Chronicles Of Narnia have been on many a child’s reading list for over half a century, and there have been many adaptions of them in film, TV and radio, but the latest version has put a decidedly contemporary twist on the tales.

A new modern version of The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe has commenced production, made by a Swedish production company.

Instead of four British children being evacuated during World War II, the action occurs on a family day out to IKEA, where the four Lindstrom children, on the run from a security guard they have angered, happen across a self-assembly wardrobe that has is ready-made on display in the store.

Jumping into the wardrobe, the four children, renamed Bjorn, Benny, Agnetha and Frida, find themselves magically transported to the frozen wastelands of a strange country called Britannia, where it is always Brexit Winter but never Brexit Dividend Christmas.

It then proceeds pretty much as it does in the book, they meet all the familiar characters, including the White Witch, played in this adaption by Theresa May.

“Theresa was just perfect for the part,” film producer Lars Chance explained at the press conference. “There really was nobody else we were even looking at to play this role.”

There is however one stumbling block. The role of Aslan, the noble lion who defeats the witch in battle, has still not been cast.

“We just can’t find anybody with the right gravitas to play the role,” Mr Chance explained. “Actually Jeremy Corbyn auditioned for the part at first, but while he does has a lot of good qualities, he just rolled over in front of the witch, so instead we gave him the role of Mr Tumnus the faun, who has a good heart and knows that what the witch is doing is wrong, but lacks the conviction to truly stand up and actively oppose her.”

The script of this film looks very promising, and could be the best adaption of C.S. Lewis yet, if that crucial part can be cast. We sincerely hope they find their Aslan soon.

In a stark warning, the government has decided not to repeat past mistakes. It will no longer pick up the tab for failures due to rash overspending. The government is no longer willing to bail out Banks.

The £8m payment made by Banks out of Russian deposits is under investigation by the NCA. Although it isn’t entirely clear, the rotten roubles seem to have been freshly laundered, starched and ironed, and delivered to Leave.EU as squeaky-clean sterling. This crisp, clean cash was then used to pay for dirty tricks.

We all know what happened next. Enough of the general public was conned into buying the pig in a poke that is Brexit. With Banks ducking the issue, the crows are coming home to roost, and a martyr is being thrown to the wolves.

The economy is hanging on slender threads. However, a bail out of Banks this time would admit the illegality of Brexit, and the unreliability of the government. The government will not bring itself down, it will wait for due process to do it for them. By which time, current MPs will have stepped down into cushy jobs as non-executive directors of whatever blue-chip companies remain.

Financial services spokesman, Robin Banks, was not a happy bunny. “It is deeply unfair that this has happened,” he grumbled from his cell in Pentonville. “Normally, a little misdemeanour like this can be sorted out with a shake of the magic money tree. Bail-out means bail-out. If the government will no longer underwrite irresponsible swindlers, then civilisation as we know it is at an end.”

Standard & Poor’s have downgraded Arron Banks from a useful idiot to a useless idiot. His Russian connections (allegedly, every Saturday night, and occasionally midweek if Mrs Banks is in the mood) are working against him. Russian wife, Russian money? Incidentally, there is no truth in the rumour that Mrs Banks’ maiden name is Novichok.

However, Banks has categorically stated that he has no immediate plans to visit Salisbury Cathedral.

Internationally renowned arboreal children’s fantasy character “The Singing Ringing Tree” Tuesday moved to deny reports that it was behind the sudden unexplained ending to UK austerity, as evidenced by the autumn budget published Monday by chancellor Philip Hammond.

A spokesman for The Singing Ringing Tree -or “SRT” as it is known to it’s inner circle, Herr Hurleburlebutz,  confirmed to LCD views that while the legendary East German TV star had accrued considerable personal wealth from her 60 year TV career, she was some way from having the means to fund tax cuts for rich Brits.

“True, SRT, is the owner of an offshore hedge fund, with branches in several major European forests but that doesn’t means he has the funds to replace the tax billions lost to offshore retailers such as the Amazon Rainforest, or Starbuckthorn,” he explained.

“In case you haven’t twigged, the UK government alone has been responsible for pruning its public sector budget for the past eight years and it alone can explain how it suddenly has the money to fund tax cuts perhaps – you should speak to “The Magic Money Tree” – whoever he or she is,” he added.

Pressed for further Herr Hurleburlebutz information, suggested enquiries might be better directed a princess Theresa Maple, or any one of a number of evil dwarves by the names of Michael “Hazel” Grove, a Christopher Grayling Willow, or Andrea Linden.

A spokesman for the UK foreign secretary’s office declined to be drawn into any wantonly arboreal pun fun.

“No one gets wood for Jeremy, no matter how wrongly you pronounce his surname,” he snapped.

Confusion is raining cats and dogs today after Lord (not of the dance) Digby Jones advertised in one of the last print media personal columns left in U.K. circulation for a vampire to bite him to ensure he sees a Brexit benefit in 100 years time.

”It was well perplexing when the letter with accompanying advert arrived,” Empti Vessel, editor of ‘Dead Thick and Gooey – Cake and Fudge Quarterly’ told LCD Views, “truth to tell, we don’t get many personal ads of that kind at our quarterly, normally it’s just people trying to offload old mixmasters and worn out maids.”

But the ad placement from Lord Jones, written in blood on vellum, was the real deal.

”Of course we don’t think he wrote in his own blood,” Empti hypothesised, “his kind never do, do they just. But if you’re looking for a vampire, best to wet their appetite I suppose. Still, that’s not the most puzzling part of it all.”

Well what is?

”To discover he’s not already a vampire was a total shock! I mean, just look at him heaving words he doesn’t understand about all over the shop in the hope of draining the life from the country’s young and all. I would have had him down for a vampire no questions. Either that or a zombie, his own brain long since eaten.”

So you will run the ad?

”Of course. The bill is being picked up by the taxpayer, so there’s no worry of having to chase after it. But I think he’s a little optimistic.”

Of finding a vampire?

”Oh no, Blighty is chock full of bloodsuckers. But to think one hundred years will be enough time to see a Brexit benefit? He must be out of his mind.”

Queen Elizabeth II has shocked the pants off no one except the so called BBC political journalists today with her announcement that she will shortly abdicate so she can start meddling in UK politics, like a pro.

”I’m fed up with the whole amateur hour, afternoon matinee full of second rate understudies,” Her Maj told a shocked audience during a surprise appearance on BBC daytime show ‘Politics Live’,

“but I can’t sit this rubbish out any longer. My husband is an EU immigrant, my grandchildren are marrying immigrants who the hostile environment would eat alive if we weren’t so stupendously wealthy, my ancestral background is a smorgasbord of European peoples, and worse of all, Theresa May keeps turning up week in and week out to ignore all my advice. Time’s up. Move aside clowns. We is rolling our sleeves up bro and we is going to get one’s hands quite unregally filthy.”

As part of the change the Queen is going to establish a new, left of centre political party, with a republican undercurrent, to take on the Brexiters.

”Far left and far right are championing a political project birthed in the bowels of the worst fascists on the mortal coil. For what is Brexit? The isolation and reduction of one’s kingdom for the empowerment of men whose hands are so black with dirty, kleptocratic wealth and dreams of feudalism that it makes me want to get the old block out and chop. But instead I’m going to run for election. If that doesn’t force a GE then I don’t know what will? Let’s have at you kippers and Lexiters! I am going to wear your guts for garters!”

What the Queen intends to call her new party wasn’t clear, but is due to be revealed after she installs Prince Andrew on the throne.

”But why Prince Andrew?” a dumbfounded Andrew Neil asked, so shocked he forgot to curtsy.

”Because that’s who you rotten lot deserve!”

At which point she left the studio, leaving the programme’s host to mutter sadly.

”I can’t beleive how bad this is,” Mr Neil stammered, “I thought she was here to offer me a peerage.”

To rub salt into the wound, she left her EU hat on a chair.