Category: Governing the people

Shocking news is breaking this evening that Theresa May’s permanent residency visa has been revoked by Cloud Cuckoo Land as she’s now too deluded even for them.

“It comes on the back of her statement that the Brexit negotiations, currently being conducted by a faded imperial power deluded into thinking it’s going through a rebirth, and the EU27, that these negotiations will be an example for the whole world to follow,” LCD’s residency correspondent reports,

“apparently Ms May was already pushing her luck, but this was one insane statement too far.”

Even as we are going to print with this breaking news story immigration officials from the Immigration and Border Service of Cloud Cuckoo Land are believed to be escorting Ms May to a holding centre.

“It’s expected her case will be fast tracked, appeals turned down, and she’ll be out of the door by tomorrow morning and flown home.

She will then be forced to continue living at 10 Downing Street for an unspecified, but limited amount of time, and continue to lead the Conservative Party, until either Gove or Johnson can actually get a knife to stay in her back.”

It’s not clear how Ms May will take this latest setback.

Especially as it comes on the back of setting the world alight only a few days ago with a speech on Brexit hailed by her entire party as both “unfittingly insane” and “the last ridiculous word salad she would be allowed to utter in public before Cloud Cuckoo Land takes action”.

In advance of her return to Downing Street Ms May has apparently ordered all mirrors smashed and the shards buried in a deep pit.

“This is just sensible policy now,” our correspondent observes, “heaven help her if she ever takes a good look at herself while hearing her own words broadcast at the same time. In this instance the old adage, know thyself, would be tantamount to extreme and punitive self flagellation.”

LCD Views’ political environment analyst has received word today that Michael Gove MP is expected to back down on his famous straw ban shortly, as his government needs all the straws it can clutch at.

“It’s a deeply personally blow for Michael,” Rosie Searchlight says, “he’s so in love with polar bears and little robin redbreasts, he can’t stand the thought of not protecting their environment, unless it’s for a wholly justifiable reason like fracking the crap out of them for a quick buck.”

There has been suspicion that the single use straw ban policy was actually just a multi-use distraction by the government, which served the added purpose of bolstering Michael Gove’s solid reputation as a hippy.

“It’s amazing when you think of how some talents dedicate themselves to public service,” Rosie comments with a dead pan expression, “rather than just being a likely Murdoch stooge, greasing the wheels of government and creating malignancies in democracy. He could have been editor of a publication like ‘Ethics Trader’, or probably led a fortune 500 company to destruction.”

But the reversal of the straw ban will be welcomed by most MPs cross party as a welcome return to sanity by government.

“Look around the big hall at Westminster,” Rosie adds, “most MPs from the two big political parties are at full clutch 24/7.

The government, as it pretends Brexit won’t double down on all the human hating stuff they’ve done while in office to benefit offshore, tax avoiding capital and stuff the rest of us.

And the official opposition, who is not really doing bugger all out of some hazy notion that if they just stand by and let the whole country burn, they’ll be seen as our saviours when they pull the only survivor out of the inferno and set them to work on a collectivised farm.

They all need every straw they can draw from the sweaty hand of spin in place of democracy.

Multi-use would be preferable, and certainly kinder to badgers, but single use will do any given day, it’s the way we’ve been governed since Blair took us into the Iraq War and it’s served us well enough so far.”

Why change now?

Great news for those who love their politics with entertainment today with the announcement that Conservative MP for Wonderland, Nadine Dorries, has signed up for the new reality TV show “I’m an idiot get me out of here”.

We spoke to Nadine to learn more about this wonderful new rut for her to plough back and forth, back and forth, deeper and deeper.

“It’s giving me goosebumps,” Nadine began, while stuffing a kitten into a sack, “my only concern is that I might miss some of the small animal sacrifices at the weekly ERG Whatsapp group meeting.”

Filming on the series has already begun, which came as a surprise to Nadine.

“What? You mean I’m already starring in it? I hadn’t realised. Oh wow.”

You didn’t realise it was a fly on the wall documentary about your day to day routine?

“No. I thought it would be like when I starred in ‘I’m a celebrity get me out of her’, you know, first class travel to an island paradise. So I don’t have to do anything extra?”

Nadine, with your tweet last night calling John Major a traitor, you’ve built so high on your earlier work calling for the UK to leave the customs union, because you couldn’t understand how it works, that you really don’t need to do anything else but stand down as an MP and begin a professional twitter career like Katie Hopkins.

“Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Nadine said, “I’ve been approached by a little community activist group headed by this very stern, but impressive, figure calling himself Oswald. They want me to be their poster girl.”

Again Nadine, with your recent work, you are already doing that too.

“Oh goodie! I’m just a little old servant to the will of the people.”

And we know where that work leads. Don’t we Nadine? We have history to guide us.

“What’s history?”

Enjoy the ongoing reality show.

“What’s reality?”

Thanks Nadine and so long for now.

“Who’s Nadine? What is a Nadine?”

A very good question indeed. You are what you tweet Nadine. You are what you tweet.

Boris Johnson has confirmed today that there’s no hard border between his backside and his brain, during comments in an interview that even a BBC journalist found hard to swallow, and some would say they’re pretty adept at eating whatever bs senior Brexiters dish up these days.

“There’s no border between my balls, my bowels, my brain and my mouth,” the Foreign Secretary, who is the United Kingdom’s international face, said,

“but when I was just a cheeky posh chappie on a comedy panel show I invisibly took millions of people for fools who thought I was a bit of a lovable rogue, but posh, so I must be smart, and I converted that at the ballot box,” Johnson told BBC Radio 4’s Today programme.

“There are all sorts of arrangements to stop the crap in people’s intestines from getting into their minds and out of their mouths, but I think it would ruin my special appeal if I took any steps to stop talking horseshit on the hoof.”

But Boris’ next comments, wherein he compared the border between Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland raised a few eyebrows, when he compared them to the invisible dividing lines between London boroughs.

“The decades long civil war in London, wherein arms smuggling and attacks happened all along the hard border between Camden and Islington was stopped when I brought in the congestion charge,” Mr Johnson opined, “it will be this easy to tear Northern Ireland out of the customs union and single market and ensure there is no return to paramilitary activity in Ireland.

And if there is, and a few customs officers are shot or blown up, do I really look like a man who could care less?”

No Mr Johnson, Secretary of State for Exiting Reality, you do not look like a man who cares, but the rest of us damn well should, firstly about how you stay in your post?

Deputy prime minister Jeremy Corbyn, MP for East Ideology and Islongintooth, is to intervene today to quell growing concerns over his coalition government’s handling of Brexit.

It’s believed the senior partner in the coalition, prime minister Theresa May, will follow up her subordinate’s speech on Friday, once they’ve had time to manufacture new cake and eat it bullshit to compensate where her deputy’s speech falls flat.

”We’ve succeeded in pulling the wool over the electorate’s eyes so far,” media guru P Mason told LCD Views, “we hope to reach the cliff edge and hurl the entire country off into a bit of good old fashioned socialism mixed with nationalism in a disaster capitalism cup before they cotton on.”

Accusations that the coalition government has too much on its plate, what with crumbling infrastructure and lengthy food bank queues to even attempt seismic change to the economy and Little Britain’s place in the world, were dismissed by Mason.

”Now, I maybe high as a kite on uncut ideology sunshine,” Mr Mason retorted, “but I will not have it that we’ve too much on our plate and not enough time to eat it.”

But what of the claim that both the PM and her deputy are spoon feeding a dog’s dinner to the public?

“The remoaners will be forced to eat humble pie in the due course of events.

Mostly because there won’t be anything else to eat once you’ve fought the stray dogs and cats to take home the fresh kill fox carcass from the side of the road. But I can reassure you food supplies in the Houses of Parliament will remain consistent, no matter how hard will jointly shaft the country.”

Any suggestion that this has been longer in the planning than anyone suspects were also dismissed.

”Just because several of the senior party figures from both sides of the coalition were firm friends in the days of being parliamentary rebels together in no way means there maybe a lot more coordination than suspected. That’s tin foil visor stuff.”

Thats good to know, the country will need wise leadership once Donald Trump begins his currency and trade war in earnest against the Chinese, crashes western economies as a result, all while we’re making a success of Brexit.

”It’s going to be a red, white and blue Brexit,” Mason added, “but we’re better at sectarian infighting than our coalition partners, so if we time our long game big play just right, it will really just be a red, red and red Lexit.”

LCD Views has heard from an aide to the prime minister that Ms May got an awful fright this morning while conducting a search of her war cabinet.

“She was looking for the Penderyn whiskey bottle to fill her hip flask,” Mired Stiminer told LCD, “I don’t know why she was having so much trouble finding it, she keeps it in her desk drawer usually, but David Davis had been over to thrash out new Brexit catchphrases, so…”

It seems after searching the pot plant, an aspidistria that May describes as her “one true friend in all the world”, she decided the Penderyn bottle had to be in her war cabinet.

“It’s a bit daft to think it would be there,” Stiminer went on, “Boris would have polished it off if Davis hadn’t nicked it, just out of spite.

Not to mention Gove. He takes things to wind her up. He’d take her seat on the front bench if he could get away with it.

Or Hunt often nicks medicinal things to sell to Americans.

He took her first aid kit and sold it on eBay to an American bidder calling himself United Healthcare Group, which seems a funny handle for a person.

It cost the public purse £50, really high end kit, and he sold it for a fiver and a holiday in Bermuda! Ms May was going to sack him for it, but she chlorine chickened out.”

But with nowhere else to turn Ms May turned to her cabinet.

“She didn’t half shout in shock when she flung back the cabinet doors and found Jeremy Corbyn inside it hunched over a spy phone with Secretary of State for War John Profumo!”

But what did she do?

“What could she do? She recovered her composure and asked them if they knew where the Penderyn bottle was.

They said no, but Jeremy kindly gave her a hit of Smirnoff, that’s how the Russians pay him, and then told her to close the cabinet doors as they hadn’t finished telling the Kremlin what she had for breakfast that morning.”

But how will she react to the discovery?

“She’ll drink till the bottle is empty I suppose. She’s under a lot of strain at work.”

No. About finding Jeremy Corbyn with a Russian spy inside her cabinet just a day after hotshot Tory youth MP Ben Bradley was forced to bend the knee to Corbyn on twitter, for his little bit of democracy undermining libel the other day?

“Oh. Nothing. She’s not capable of doing anything about anything anymore. She’s already operating at the top of her game as it is.”

The Home Office sneaked out this snippet of news under the radar. Fortunately, LCD Views always looks under the radar and has picked up the story. Essentially, post-Brexit, the responsibility for policing across the UK will be contracted out to local people bearing firearms.

Privatisation is a major theme of the right-wing thinking currently in vogue. The logic that private individuals can deliver a more efficient service than the public sector will be applied to the police. Local policing will be contracted out, to the lowest bidder. All police forces are to be disbanded the moment the UK leaves the EU. Experts predict that vigilante justice will prevail thereafter.

LCD’s Justice At What Price correspondent spoke to criminal mastermind Bobby Onthebeat.

“Local people know the tensions and flashpoints within their own community,” he said. “Local Policing For Local People is the new slogan. Better than some airy-fairy wet behind the ears Plod straight out of Cop College!”

But the guns, what about the guns?

“They are the ultimate deterrent!” claims Onthebeat, swelling with manly pride. “A dig in the ribs with an assault rifle will make the crimmos think twice about nicking jelly babies out of the pick ‘n’ mix ever again!”

They are criminals. They won’t think twice about arming themselves and starting a gun battle on the high street, we suggested.

At this point, Onthebeat suddenly remembered that he had an urgent appointment with the Police and Crime Commissioner, and scarpered.

We subsequently asked the PCC, Lord Whatwerewethinking, about white collar crime, since the Fraud Squad would no longer exist. “White collar crime is a complete myth,” claimed His Lordship. “Rich people don’t commit crimes. Why do you think the prisons are full of poor people?”

Reassured, we look forward to a time when the greater availability of guns will stop crime for good. It will be a blood red, deathly white and blue murder Brexit.

An independent parliamentary disciplinary panel has found Ben Bradley MP for Idiocy, over qualified to be a Tory MP.

”He should probably phone Elon Musk up and tell him straight ‘I Ben Bradley, I am a visionary and you Mr Musk, you need me’,” panel chair, Mr Common Antique said.

”If Musk is too afraid of the competition he should next call Donald Trump and say to him straight, ‘I Ben Bradley, I am a legal genius and you Mr POTUS, you need me.”

The advice has been lent added weight by the Royal Society of Marine Floaters, who added unexpectedly,

”We know about pools. We know about ponds. We know about rivers and streams and palm fronds. Ben Bradley MP is too big for this pond. He should seek fame and fortune where he can spread his wings and quack.”

The flood of unsolicited advice comes after Ben Bradley MP for Idiocy libelled alleged, infamous soviet era spy Jesus Christ (has risen and will slowly float back down again if he doesn’t stop fudgeberging Brexit) on social media.

”I’m going to fight this all the way to deselection,” Ben told LCD’s legal whiz, “I’m going to raise a local militia to defend democracy. Hang on, let me tweet that.”

Ben tweeted, deleted and then explained,

”I was just following orders anyway, why pick on me? They must think I’m disposable? I’m not come coffee cup.

Well I’m here to tell them today that I, Ben Bradley MP, I am not going away. After all, they may need to use me as a dead cat on the table some other day.”

A strong and stable woman has taken advantage of the clownish antics of waffling foreign secretary Boris Johnson to have a secret meeting with her superiors in Stormont.

”I didn’t want to go on this team building exercise,” the woman told LCD Views, “they’re so bloody hard headed my bosses. I was worried they’d have me slithering on my belly in the mud under barbed wire. Or some other nonsense that will do nothing to help me reach my arms sales targets.”

A reasonable concern.

“Mind you, a blancmange on a train dessert trolley looks like a monolith next to me.

Do you like eating sweets on trains? Can we talk about transportation sweets rather than Northern Ireland?”

Still, it wasn’t as bad as she feared, one of her vp’s rambling about sex tourism yesterday as the future of Britain freed from the constraints of an overweening Brussels certainly distracted the media and the public.

”I hope I don’t have to talk to her again soon. Ever since I sold a controlling stake in my medium sized, family owned business to Foster and co, I’ve barely slept a wink.”

But luckily for her at least on one important and thorny issue her tough business partner is aligned.

”I do appreciate it,” Ms May winked. “She’s so easy on benchmarks for the Irish Border issue, she’s happy to pretend it’s not a problem either, so long as Brexit means Brexit, who gives a toss if a few cows get smuggled in someone’s front door and out the back of a house and across a line on a map?”

So when is the next meeting?

”I asked her about that. As her office in Stormont is currently closed due to some pickle over words that is just so boring to me.

But it seems so long as she gets to tell me what to do about anything that takes her fancy I’m free to get on with things as I see fit.

Is it normal to pay someone to take a controlling stake in your family business, or are they supposed to pay you?”

We left her to try and work it out.

Motoring enthusiast Theresa May is expecting to drive passed thousands of food banks on the road to Brexit.

LCD Views’ best intentions correspondent went along to brunch at Ms May’s central London crash pad to hear what she expects to learn from the experience.

He sent back this report of the scene.

INT  10 Downing Street   Morning

A grey hared woman wearing a neck chain you could flog a hyena to death with sits at a dining table.

She fiddles with her napkin.

Turns one cloth corner in a tight knot.

Her eyes could be swapped with the glass eyes in an old porcelain doll and it’s likely not many would notice.

It’s a long table. It would be difficult for people sat at either ends to hear each other without shouting.

But there’s only one other person with her. A hack with a smoker’s cough who looks like he hasn’t shaved since new year and is almost certainly drunk.

Reporter

“So Ms May, what are you hoping to see on the road to Brexit?”

Theresa May

“Food banks mostly, I suspect. It’s funny how high roads get dotted with one type of business. Although I won’t be stopping. I work hard enough to put sufficient food on my table.”

A servant enters carrying a silver platter. Her arms tremble. There is so much food on that tray.

The servant trips and almost spills the food. She mutters something in a foreign language.

Theresa May’s head snaps about like a rottweiler smelling a bleeding kitten.

Reporter

“Now that’s what I call a full english breakfast!”

Theresa May

“I will only pick at it. You may take one strip of bacon and a hash brown.”

Theresa May blushes.

Reporter

“What’s the matter?”

Theresa May

“Hash brown is a naughty word. It’s a foreign form of food.”

Reporter

“Oh. The butter is British, isn’t it?”

Theresa May

“I churn it myself. Just by looking at the cream.”

There is silence as the trembling servant places the heavy tray on the table. She withdraws, turns and almost runs for the door.

Reporter

“What are the statistics on the growth of food banks since you took office, and what impact do you expect driving on the road to Brexit to have on the living standards of both the working poor and the unemployed?”

Theresa May

(Those glass eyes are so hot suddenly you could use them to weld)

“Get out.”

Reporter

(stands, stuffing sausages into his pockets)

“You know it’s the road to nowhere you’re driving on? Or maybe the road to hell? Taking a magical misery tour?”

Theresa May twists the corner of that napkin again. Tighter. Tighter.

Theresa May

“After we leave the European Union and I am free to bring in legalisation to snoop on your computer at will I will make it my hobby to hang about in your search history. I’ll find out how British your values are. I’ll find out!”

End scene.