Category: Governing the people

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…”

Fears of a post Brexit crime wave centred on food increased today after Her Majesty’s Government reluctantly confirmed theft of bread, and other food, will lead to transportation to the colonies again, after Brexit.

The encouraging revelation is thanks to a FOI request by LCD Views regarding proposed changes to criminal law, due to come into force as we make a success of Brexit.

”It’s expected all and every Gregg’s will be a crime scene,” a minister at the Home Office confirmed, “we are encouraging Greggs, and other bakeries, to boost their security prior to March 29th 2019, October 31st 2019 and January 31st 2020.”

Nicking a sausage roll will get you sent down and sent down under again?

”Not just sausage rolls. A loaf will be seven years hard labour. A Bakewell tart could mean life. Although stealing, but not consuming, a vegan sausage roll will get you a medal.”

It’s expected the return of unbelievably harsh sanctions, with corporal punishment, are the brain child of Iain Duncan Smith, best known for his deep and sympathetic understanding of the psychology of the criminal classes ie, anyone who’s not rich.

But what about white collar crime? What if ministers in HMG are found to have been colluding with hedge fund owners to crash the pound?

“What about it?”

Fair enough.

As to what Australia thinks about this proposal is anyone’s guess, as the Australian government has thus far remained tight lipped.

”They’re too busy playing musical chairs with their prime ministers to worry if we establish a penal colony on Rottnest Island, or even Cockatoo Island.  And besides, there is no conceivable way those convicts would want to spoil the chance of agreeing a free and comprehensive free trade deal with the U.K. I expect they’ll offer to build the new gaols required themselves.”

As to the possibility of return and redemption after the seven years is served, the minister has this to say,

”From Australia back to Brexitannia? We don’t expect anyone will want to. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m off to pocket some crusty baps and get a ticket out of here.”

It wasn’t sexy soirees with titillating Tory totty that provoked Marina Johnson to trigger article 50 on her 25 year marriage to former London mayor and UK foreign minister “Bonkalot” Boris Johnson, it was something FAR darker, LCD Views can reveal.

Namely the discovery that the flesh that Boris had discovered a weakness for was none other than that of fellow lard bucket, Steve Bannon – and not alone either.

The pair of them were locked in an unholy ménage-a-trois with none other than Lucifer the Prince of Darkness, Satan himself.

“They were both insatiable,” confessed a red faced Mephistopheles in laconic tones strongly reminiscent of the late Peter Cook.

“The mere mention of the words “immigration”, “lebensraum” or “I have a right to my own opinion”, and they were off like rats up each other’s drainpipes – It was all I could do to keep up,” he complained, adding that given their respective bulks it was a miracle they didn’t trigger an earthquake.

“They’re both big lads, by which I mean in the “hippo” sense. Johnson is frankly a misnomer,” yawned Old Nick, laconically.

But like all good things, it had to end the Archfiend added explaining that Boris got the hump at “Sloppy Steve “ dropping his standards for every right wing nut job in Europe.

“For me though it was Boris’s insistence that we make the beast with three backs wearing rubber Theresa May masks and crotchless suicide vests, that did it,” he winced.
” I mean I’m Beelzebub, – I’m up for absolutely anything, but there are limits even for The Lord of the Flies.”

“Theresa and I have been mates for years – we screwed the Windrush generation together – you have to stand by your friends in their hour of need,” he smirked, sparking up a Capstan navy Strength and pouring himself another goblet of champagne.

The sick and the potentially sick of the United Kingdom, the chronically ill and the accident prone, and those who care for them, are in safe hands today with the announcement from Matt Hancock (MP for Hands-on-Rooster), Secretary of State for Health and Social Care, that he has…

”Just today qualified as a faith healer!”

The news is not news for anyone following Matt’s announcements recently about NHS preparation for a no deal Brexit.

”Matt hasn’t just been sitting about with his hands down his pants playing with the only toy God gave him,” our senior health and social care correspondent corresponds, “since he took over from Jeremy Rhymes-With, in a fetching act of surname symmetry, he’s been a busy boy indeed.”

Busy largely delegating the job of ensuring the health of the country is looked after as the Tories crash the country.

”He’s been studying how just believing really bloody hard that everything won’t go to hell in a hand basket, with diabetics dying for want of insulin, and cancer patients dying for want of treatment, can be avoided by believing really bloody hard that private business will do the job of preparing for a No Deal instead of the government. All you have to do is have faith that they’ll do it if you order them to.”

So simple even his predecessor in the job could have thought of it.

”To prove that faith is all you need he’s put his hands where your money is and taken a digital course in faith healing. This is part of a dramatic modernisation of the health service.”

But what if he’s wrong and faith isn’t enough? What if the stockpiles are insufficient?

”Oh ye of little faith,” our correspondent chided, “you can just duck over to Northern Ireland from April next year and get whatever you need on the new hard border black market. You’ll be able to lay your hands on whatever you need. So long as you just believe.”

The black market? Now that’s the sort of private enterprise that will succeed in the event of a no deal Brexit.

We will be saved! LCD Views is pleased to reassure the great British public today that all will be well in the advent of a no deal Brexit.

The reassurance comes after the government minister responsible for running operation ‘Yellowhammer’ was filmed shopping at Homebase for a yellow hammer.

”He was also buying red, white and blue striped paint,” A. Peace-o’-Timba MP (Two-on-Planks) told us exclusively.

A. Peace had invited our correspondent down to the civil disaster planning office to watch the preparations for planning a complete and total civil disaster.

”It makes a nice change from trying to deal with unexpected calamity,” A. Peace smiled, “to actually be planning to create the catastrophe. It gives you a head start.”

As to the actual yellow hammer purchased by the minister in charge, we weren’t able to view it.

”It’s been borrowed by the minister’s son for some DIY job at home,” A. Peace shrugged, “but it’s okay. We’ve a receipt. There’s an actionable trail. It’s not what you’d call an expense fiddle. The hammer will be returned in time for use in next year’s disaster.”

Other items on the shopping list at the time are believed to be non-stick wallpaper, a left handed screwdriver and a Northern Ireland Minister who actually has the foggiest about Northern Ireland and its relations and history with the Republic, so not the newly appointed minister then.

”I’m sure some critics and smart Alec’s will mock the purchase of the yellow hammer,” A. Peace continued, “say we’re wasting valuable taxpayers’ money on something that will never be needed, but this is just sensible governance. We’re planning the disasters. We’re not waiting for them to catch us by surprise.”

Just so and well done.

This certainly isn’t a case of a hammer to crack a nut, as the nut itself will clearly be way, way too big for a hammer to crack.

Kicked out of the family home by his wife of 25 years, Boris Johnson is planning a surprise bid to have himself elected President of the European Commission.

A source close to Johnson’s own office confirmed to LCD Views that the recently resigned UK foreign minister has realised that his estranged wife’s decision to go public about his philandering has effectively ended his chances of becoming leader of the conservative party, and hence UK Prime Minister.

Instead he has set his sights on Brussels, and is looking to be elected President of the European Commission  next year, when the five year term of current President Jean Claude Junkers ends, the source explained.

“They’re all French or something so infidelity is pretty much compulsory,” she explained, smiling sweetly and crossing her legs.

“Boris feels that with Theresa May’s Chequers plan dead in the water, and a no deal Brexit, akin to economic suicide – if you can’t beat them, he may just as well jolly well join them,” she said, smoothing a crease in her silk stockings.

“And what better way to keep the UK in the EU than making him president – he’s a man who loves nothing more than being on top,” she winked, pointing out that Boris had happily backed the UK’s EU membership for years before throwing his extreme, but still manly, bulk behind Brexit in the hope of unseating David Cameron as PM.

“And as a twice former mayor of London and former foreign minister he’s not exactly lacking in experience – if you know what I mean,” she added peering librarian like over the top of her glasses and smiling knowingly.

News of Johnson’s volte-face came less than 48 after The EU’s chief Brexit negotiator, Michel Barnier rejected May’s Chequers plan as unworkable, and suggesting that the UK had no option but to crash out of the EU with no trade deal.
And only hours after he was seen crashing out of the family home with no deal, after his wife of 25 years Marina Wheeler invoked article 50, ending his freedom of movement and forcing him to kip down on Michael Gove’s sofa under WTA rules.

Johnson himself was unavailable for comment with his secretary confirming that he would be unavailable Thursday due to prior appointments at French and German “brush up” classes.

“And he has meetings all day tomorrow with executives from Mercedes and Renault – something to do with renting buses with special paint jobs,” she said breathily, batting her eyelids and absent-mindedly fingering the top button on her blouse.