Category: Governing the people

LCD Views is a well known fully paid up, Tory shill propaganda outfit, funded largely by George Soros, as such it is rare for us to editorialise critically anything the current wise, studious, diligent and compassionate Conservative government does, but today we must make an exception to our golden rule.

The announcement by serving Secretary of State for Health and Social Scare, Matt Hand-on-Rooster-o’clock that visiting A&E is to become a criminal offence from 01 April 2019 has left us livid.

It simply does not go far enough.

Although it is a good sign that the minister has made this announcement while on a state visit to China. There to give their state cyber-espionage units fuller and deeper access to our nation’s health by buying their health gadgets, and yes, we accept that in return someone somewhere will likely make a lot of money, without a thought to the consequences, but surely his focus should be on preventing health crime in the first place?

Isn’t prevention better than cure?

Shouldn’t Mr Hand-up-Rooster be sponsoring primary legislation to make falling ill or having an accident a crime to begin with? Punishable by transportation to one of the penal colonies (to be overseen by Gove) that Global Britain is to establish?

Hard labour for broken bones. That’s your cure Mr Five-Fingers-on-a-Willy! Sanitise the country by clamping down on sore throats!

And will the government ensure that family members accompanying a sick relative to an NHS A&E be arrested and tried as accessories?

Just think of the extra profit to be made by the private companies being awarded the carpark contracts if a criminal visiting their sick son or daughter in a ward at Great Ormond Street is speedily arrested and detained for long enough to have their car clamped and sufficient punitive fees accumulate on top the fine itself?

This could lead to healthy boost to the bailiff and re-possession industries post Brexit that Britain will rely on for economic growth.

We say you are not doing enough Mr Handjohnson!

Crime starts in the home. When the first sniffle or the ladder fall occurs. This is where you need to strike and strike hard!

We urge you to be tough on health crime and tougher on the causes lest the criminal classes make our NHS facilities unfit even for US private health businesses to own.

Act today. Lock a man flu sufferer away.

Etymologists specialising in cockney rhyming slang are locked in a veritable “fight to the Hovis” over the correct correlative for “Jacob Rees Mogg”.

London’s leading “slang bangs”  are unable to reach an agreement on which of the many obvious rhymes the name of The Conservative party’s leader in waiting should be used in place of.

Current leading contenders include “fog” “dog”, “snog” and “bog”.

“Some bastard’s “Jacob” has taken a “Donald Trump” on my doorstep,” has a ring to it, said slang expert Gordon Bennet, cautioning that forcing two rancid far right politicians into the same extended metaphor risks unbalancing the offbeat kilter.

Similarly, he explained, the idea of  “getting lost in an absolute pea souper of ‘a Jacob‘ ” really doesn’t do justice to the man’s off the edge views.

While given Rees-Mogg’s ultra catholic views on holding hands before marriage, “snog” too is a none starter, he added.

” Anyway – ‘Took me bird round the back of the bike sheds for a quick Jacob?‘ – that’s a passion killer if there ever was one,” he grimaced.

Current favourite with a majority of slang bangers is the suggestion that “Jacob Rees Mogg” should be rhyming slang for the smallest room in the house.

To wit, “Bleedin’ Nora, had a dodgy kebab last night and spent half the morning stuck in the effin’ “Jacob” with me “Bill Grundies round me ankles.”

Although, even with the correct semantic area identified, opinions still differ, with a solid, and hard to flush grouping insisting that the correct attribution, should be “log“.

As in: “Cor blimey, own up! Who’s laid the “Jacob” in the outside bog?”

However one thing all “rhyming slang” experts agree on is that none are likely to find favour with their namesake, Mr Rees-Mogg himself.

“The sour faced young scrote isn’t exactly renowned for his sense of humour, and has been known to get litigious, ” he cautioned.

“If he decides to sue, well then, we’re all “Peter Carter-Rucked,” he laughed.

Fantastic news today with the announcement from Downing Street that PM for everyone, Theresa May, has used the Henry VIII powers gifted in the EU Withdrawal Bill to change voting legislation.

”This will ensure that the right outcome is achieved in any vote held tomorrow, the day after that, or when everyone not a predatory hedge fund owner is scrabbling over the last rat after Brexit,” Steve Baker MP (Abuse-on-Parliament) made the announcement on the executive’s behalf, presumably because IDS and other ERG members have Theresa May tied to a chair in a basement somewhere.

Full details of the law change, nicknamed The Great Lazarus Bill, are not being made public, but key points are so people can re-draft their wills today for tomorrow.

”Say you’re worried about traitorous remainiac EU nationalists turning eighteen and undoing your decision to leave the tyrannical EU superstate,” Mr Baker went on, while strangling a puppy in his pocket, “well simple, just bequeath your vote to the Conservatives. Or better still, leave it to the ERG.”

The change is to be trialled initially and limited to Tory donors, but with a comprehensive roll out in time.

”We all know the membership of the Conservative Party is withering on the vine,” Mr Baker shrugged, “and that soon the only people left will be Tory MPs and UKIP entryists acting under orders from Steve Bannon. Oh, and about half a dozen currency traders who are shorting the pound,

”This may make winning either the likely People’s Vote, or a shock GE before March 29th 2019 harder, but not now that people can leave us their vote to ensure the will of the people never dies,

“Once this new voting system has been proved to our satisfaction we may even make it retrospective, so leave voters who have since passed can have their last vote re-cast to ensure the will of the people sees no obstacle in changing circumstances, new information, emerging proof of criminality, or even death.”

Questioned how the law change would benefit UK democracy, Mr Baker just smiled, strangled another puppy and stated, “The dead can’t change their minds.”

The lack of opposition from Her Majesty’s Opposition had been explained. The leader of the opposition, Jeremy Corbyn, has been replaced by a cardboard cutout. It appears that the world has only just realised this.

Opposition means opposition, which in this instance means opposition in name only. How long has this state of affairs persisted? Nobody, not even the cardboard cutout himself, knows.

Somewhere in genteel suburban London, an old, white-bearded man was patiently digging in his allotment. “Potatoes!” said the old man proudly. “Grown by the honest sweat and toil of the proletariat. I am going to stockpile them to get me through the winter, which of course begins next March.”

Meanwhile the cutout has been busy doing nothing. It has attended briefings, meetings and parliamentary sessions. It has said and done nothing, and as usual this has passed without anybody noticing.

LCD Views was unable to secure an interview with the cutout (it had too much paperwork to do), but did manage to speak to its deputy, a cypher named Steer Calmer.

“The Labour Party has been shadowing the Tories for a long time,” explained Calmer. “That’s where the name Shadow Minister comes from. We have adapted one of their democratic slogans for our own use: ‘No opposition is better than a bad opposition’. That sums up our position perfectly.”

We suggested that parroting empty slogans is hardly an effective strategy.

“We must respect the slogan!” Calmer insisted. “Slogan means slogan. Otherwise we cease to be a democracy.”

What is your take on the fact that your party is being led by a piece of cardboard?

“It was a democratic decision which can never, ever be reversed,” replied Calmer.

Calmer suddenly went rigid. An automatic update had kicked in. He began to chant mechanically: “Chequers or No Deal… Chequers or No Deal…”

Corbyn – heavyweight or paperweight? Toppling him should be a breeze.

Theresa May has made a groundbreaking speech today in which she outlined her vision for the future of British childhood.

“Poverty,” she said, while flanked by dozens of Dalmatian dogs and wearing a striking black and white overcoat,

“gruelling, humiliating poverty. No child left behind. But, and this is important to note, the children of pound shorting, predatory, disaster capitalists will have been bought burgundy passports and so will not be counted as British children for the purposes of poverty line statistics.”

It’s believed the speech was given to show leadership. To provide clarity for people who mistakenly feel the British ship of state is rudderless.

”Brexit is our rudder,” Ms May put everyone straight, to the fawning nods of Nick Robinson, Andrew Marr and other BBC journalists so well off from the public purse, so encrusted with intellectual laziness, so entrenched in unconscious bias, they are prepared to validate the clear and complete disasterous crap Ms May’s administration produces day in and day out.

”And with Brexit as our rudder we can steer the once mighty ship Britannia into every clearly avoidable obstacle on the seas of statecraft until we’re wrecked. Then my party donors can be the wreckers and salvage the valuables.”

As to what to do with the children of Britain once they are all in grinding poverty?

”Who cares?” Ms May smiled, “seriously, who cares? Are there not still skips? Are there not gutters to search? Are there not laughs to be had watching them in morally bankrupt reality shows being humiliated for scraps?”

As to when the target of every British child living in poverty will be reached?

”That’s not entirely clear,” Ms May shrugged, “although daily we make progress. And thanks to the cross party coalition with Labour to deliver Brexit, it’s highly likely beyond March 29th next year we will be withIn grasp of our target.”

It’s good to have leadership.

The Road to Brexit, the white elephant in the room – or countryside – has reached another embarrassing halt. Far from thundering magnificently towards the cliff-edge and freedom, it has meandered to a halt in the middle of no-man’s land. The government has been obliged to organise a diversion.

Therefore the comedy duo of Fox and Grayling have been wheeled out. For those new to the genre, Grayling is the hapless incompetent whose schtick is slapstick, whereas Fox is the gag merchant, and no amount of knock-backs can convince him that he is not the fox’s bollocks.

The routine is always the same: Fox comes up with a grand plan. Grayling opens his mouth, puts his foot in it and falls over. The plan fails, and Fox congratulates himself. Rinse, repeat, run end credits.

This time there’s only a slight twist. Grayling runs, hilariously, into a red line of cones on the Road, and falls over. Fox’s grand plan is to use the Road as a runway for a Spitfire instead. “It’ll never get off the ground!” quips Grayling. “No, it’s a flier!” replies Fox. “Come on Chris, give us a push!” Whereupon the pair burst into an improbable song about an aeroplane with only one wing:
“We’ve only got one wing!”    “But one is better than none!”
“So long as we can sing…”      “…We will fly up to the sun!”

While all this song and dance was going on, anxious Road users wait for direction. Temporary yellow signs point them off in a random direction. They are directed to a cul-de-sac on the projected line of the Road, scheduled for demolition.

Suddenly, an aeroplane appears over the horizon. Its flight is weak, the engine droning feebly and the single wing flapping. It heads straight for the cul-de-sac, and BOOM!! There is an almighty crash. Fox and Grayling emerge, unscathed. Grayling immediately plunges head first into the wreckage, and Fox dusts himself down proudly.

Fox turns to look directly into the camera. “See what you can achieve on a wing and a prayer!” he says, winking.

The government is planning to set up a specialist military task force to retrieve iconic British “intellectual property” which has “migrated” to Europe having been bought up by foreign multinationals, according to a new Brexit white paper published Friday.

The new inter-service task force of specially trained officers from the SAS and RAF will operate under cover on the European mainland, tracking down and identifying iconic formerly British brands, before kidnapping them  and returning them to their rightful homes.

High on the list of potential targets is HP Sauce, manufactured to a secret family recipe in the dimly lit cellars of the Houses of Parliament for over 100 years before being kidnapped by American corporate raiders Heinz, who moved production to darkest Lithuania.

Equally high on the list is children’s construction toy, Meccano, invented in Liverpool, where it was produced in the same factory for over three centuries, but now lies cruelly exiled in Calais, France.

“We’re hoping the company will have sufficient stock to enable us construct a bridge across the channel,  back to the UK where it can be re-assembled,” whispered a long haired, masked official in camouflage fatigues, sounding remarkably like Toy Stories and The Reassembler presenter James May.

Also targeted is Cadbury’s Dairy Milk chocolate, kidnapped by American global mega giant Kraft Foods (now  Montezuma International) in 2010.

This wholly (wholly hazelnut, ooomph) British confectionary was first stripped of its traditional British apostrophe, and then (Freddo) frog marched across Europe to new factory in Poland where the traditional recipe was dropped in favour of one based on lard, bat saliva and left over Soviet era brown boot polish.

“None of this will be easy, but if these three raids succeed we may go ahead with what promises to be the toughest challenge of all ” a government official told LCD Views.

Namely, the retrieval of that most British of spreads, Marmite,  manufactured in Belgium since 1987 when the Thatcher government’s decimation of the British mining industry forced the closure of the last traditional steam powered Marmite mine in Burton on Trent.

“Love it or hate it, we have to retake it,” he explained, saluting.

Also included in the white paper are plans for a special task force to oversee the return to the British high street names like Woolworths, British Home Stores, and Timothy Whites.

“Of course they won’t actually be selling anything though,” the official said adding;

“Our bosses at Amazon would never allow us to do that.”

Mighty industrial powerhouse Britannia is found near to 100% employment today after the Department for Work and Pensions changed the criteria for full time employment to include breathing while walking.

”If the trial of the change is successful we will go further,” Rt. Hon Esther McVey, Secretary of State for crushing the dreams and souls IDS couldn’t reach, told LCD Views.

”In time we hope to extend the conservative criteria to simply breathing,” she added, “although that may or may not include people on life support, depending on how quickly we can advance legislation after Brexit to make being disabled or sick, and unable to afford private healthcare, a crime.”

Other measures being considered are simply to stop phaffing about rigging statistics by farcical redefinitions.

”It’ll be much simpler if we can use soft fascism and simply print the numbers we want people to believe, regardless of reality, and have the BBC uncritically report the unsupportable assertions. Trials of that are already proving very successful. People laugh at our ineptness on social media, but it doesn’t really matter if we’re shit at Twitter and Facebook, given how effectively we’ve stacked the executive decks at the BBC.”

But what of people who try and rig the system by holding their breath?

”We’ve thought of that and it’s easy to counter.”

Going on, tell us how?

”As we fully develop our policy agenda into a proper totalitarian state masquerading as a democracy, the things we’ll do to people will be so ghastly that no humane individual will be able to resist shouted what the fuck?! each and every hour. Then they’ll have to breathe and will thus be fully employed.”

What about the inhumane ones? Mightn’t they hold their breath long enough to get into the stats?

”Oh, that’s not a problem, all those people already support us.”

Social media is buzzing today with talk of a new wonder drug which instantly cures feelings of sympathy for Prime Minister Theresa May.

”When we saw people writing on social media platforms that they felt sorry for the prime architect of the Hostile Environment policies, well, we knew we had to work fast to develop a cure,” Doctor Furacists, of F U Racists and Gamble, a leading medical research company based in Maidenhead, told us earlier today.

The cure comes in various forms, first and foremost empathy and humanity, but also an easy to take pill form.

”The pill is called ‘Hostile Environment’ after the now famous policy spectrum designed and pushed through by the head of the Home Office during 2010 – 2016. This occurred while Prime Minister David Cameron was too blithe, intellectually stupid, possibly compromised by various sources of funding, and lazy to pay attention to what his legacy was growing into.”

The Doctor advises anyone who is starting to exhibit symptoms of sympathy for Theresa May, purely because she achieved her aim of becoming boss to a vicious bag of snakes, to begin a course of Hostile Environlemt immediately.

”Most people will only need one dose to release that they should have zero sympathy for a xenophobic Little Englander who made it her mission while Home Office minister to do as much as possible to destroy the security and well-being of a vast number of people, purely based on skin colour it seems, but also a distaste for certain socio-demographics and a desire to punish them, as you’d expect from a vicar’s daughter.”

But what about people who have a severe case, say members of ToryKip and UKIP?

”Oh, they’re going to need to overdose, and even then I’m not sure it’ll work.”

In front of packed hall of worshippers (mostly from the BBC, or maybe it was the Express? It’s hard to tell them apart these days) recently ordained high priest of bullshit [ed. It’s believed our correspondent meant Brexit. But one is a synonym for the other and they both mean the same thing so to add both words, even for clarity of meaning, would risk being tautological and not stiffen the article, or make it firmer, introduce the potential for tiresome error, and just drag out the article painfully and unnecessarily, just like bullshit) Dominic Raab, MP for Fork-on-Tung, released the latest batch of No Deal Brexit notices.

“A dog is not just for Christmas, thanks to the diligent planning of your vigorous government, it’s also for dinner.”

It took several minutes for the applause to subside. Several people even began to talk in tongues, such was the religious fervour generated in the faithful by the statement.

”Purposefully positioning a modern, industrialised country into a situation where the choice of eating your last born child, or your pet, is now real is just sensible government.”

The kind of pragmatism we’ve all come to expect from the Conservatives.

”Even now my department is working on an easily accessible recipe book, in app format, although it will only be on android (because they’re androids) to release in advance of just fucking the entire country senseless so some fascistic natured tax dodgers can take complete control of your day to day lives.”

From this announcement Mr Raab began to read from a hymn sheet, verses that blame the EU for the moment HMG screws your pooch, we mean cook your dog, or make your dog into dinner.

”With the right amount of vim and vigour any hungry citizen of Brexitannia will be able to get even a German Shepherd into a pot. Remember, as we move into the bold and exciting frontiers of Global Britain, a dog is not just for Christmas anymore…”