Oh, the irony...

I have to laugh. The UK's failed, unelected and now deposed ex Prime Minister, Wee Gordy McBroon, has shambled off into the sunset muttering to himself that at least he managed the economy for his ungrateful citizenry. So what was the financial markets' response to his grudging and overdue departure? The pound immediately jumped against the dollar. I think, as an epitaph on the spendthrift bastard's economic "prudence," that says it all.

Why Proportional Representation is a really bad idea

Imagine: the scene is the day after the next general election, and we're all waiting to learn the outcome of the back-door horse trading, broken manifesto pledges and underhand deals that will decide who forms the government. Eventually a pair of press conferences give a deeply unsatisfactory answer. With 326 seats required for an overall majority, David Cameron has managed to bring the UKIP, Democratic Unionists (Ian Paisley's nutjob party, remember) and Plaid Cymru on side, but only has 320 seats. Ed Balls, David Millipede or some other identikit leftie clone has assembled a motley crew of Lib Dems, Greens, rebellious IRA-loving scum and Wee Eck Salmond's SNP; as the sounds of a barrel being desperately scraped die away it becomes clear that this coalition, too, has only 320 seats. The hung Parliament continues to dangle. Meanwhile, in the lounge bar of the Boot and Paki, Nick Griffin and his nine MPs sit patiently, waiting for the phone to ring...



They'd do it, wouldn't they? Oh yes, I know what they SAY; they'd never work with the BNP, extremists, affront to British values, blah blah blah. But given the choice between five more years in opposition or quietly agreeing to send some of them back... yes, I think they'd do it.

Classy...

Well, young "father" Alfie Patten has given another excellent illustration of why he should be stripped down for donor organs. The little charmer appeared yesterday in a custom-printed hoodie (of course) with the slogan "I'm the daddy, if not f**k you all I'll still be there" across the back, and a hand making a predictable gesture on the back of the hood itself.

Never mind the fact that some member of the revolting little bastard's family has paid for this pitiful garment with taxpayer's money; what does this say about the mindsets of these scum-sucking vermin? They are actually BOASTING about this whole sorry episode! All I can say is that for years now there have been ripples of discontent from the decent working- and middle-class people who have been forced to subsidise the huge and loathsome chav circus that so much of the UK has become. Those ripples are now growing with frightening speed into a large and powerful wave. We can only hope that when that wave breaks it will smash the appalling Alfie and all those around him, and sweep the shattered debris into oblivion.

Chantelle: A good time that was had by all?

Well, I've stayed away from blogging for a while, but finally I've seen something vile enough to bring me back, and in a towering rage at that. The politest thing I could say about Alfie Patten, Chantelle Steadman and their parents is that they disgust me. However, I have no intention of being polite.

Let's start with the parents. There are, as is usually the case, four of them. Of the four, only one is employed; Alfie's father is a part-time Satan impersonator and moonlights for a recovery firm. This minor point in his favour was completely wiped out when I discovered that the feckless bastard has a total of NINE children (by multiple sluts, naturally) and that he left Alfie's shiftless whore of a mother for a 19 year old girl. Am I too harsh in calling the mother a shiftless whore? I think not. Since her husband departed, her house has become notorious for loud music and unruly parties, and she is facing court for collusion in a FIVE MONTH period of truancy by sweet little Alfie.

Chantelle's parents, meanwhile, are classic dole scum. Both are unemployed, but they still manage to pull in roughly GBP30,000 a year in handouts extorted from the luckless taxpayers. Clearly they have no shame, as they have popped out a total of six future parasites without bothering their fat arses to try financing their spawn themselves. Chantelle's mother, who is clearly so far from being the sharpest knife in the drawer that I wouldn't use her to cut soup, saw nothing wrong in letting her 14 YEAR OLD daughter share a bed with her 12 YEAR OLD boyfriend. She denies knowledge of the 14 and 16 year old boyfriends, but the testimony of her disgusted neighbours suggests that she is lying. I'm sure the bitch was NOT lying when she said that her misbegotten new granddaughter will want for nothing (except for adult role models and, oh for fuck's sake, adult PARENTS!) but it won't all be provided by the "loving family" the more sickly tabloids are on about; once again, the taxpayer will be shaken by the heels to extort the readies for little Maisie Roxanne's first piercings.

Now. Chantelle. I must admit that when I heard of this whole sordid tale I wasn't surprised that the teenage slag in question was called Chantelle rather than, say, Annabel or Susan, but there you go. I AM somewhat surprised that she hasn't been arrested for child sex abuse, with her disgusting parents in the next cell for conspiracy, but perhaps the local plod are too busy running Road Equality Compliance Community Camera Integration Initiative Partnership Awareness workgroups to actually bang up some criminal scum. Anyway, never mind; she's as free as a rather pasty-faced bird, revolting as that fact may be to decent people, and by all accounts she's free to all comers as well. So far, two local toerags have confessed to having explored Chantelle's dubious charms; no doubt many more, aware that the promise of tabloid cash will evaporate as soon as the angelic-faced Alfie falls out of the paternity frame, are quietly keeping their heads down and their hoods up. I imagine they'll be safe; after all, I doubt a girl as classy as Chantelle would have done anything so crass as ask their names before dropping her Primark knickers in exchange for a bottle of 20/20.

And Alfie, the fresh-faced little darling at the centre of all this (until it turns out that he's not the father at all, just a product of his own vile background and his "girlfriend's" deviousness)? Well, to me he looks like a real charmer. Here's a photo of him communicating with the media (Photo credit to Mark Large). Well, that's not quite the image we got in the first pictures of him playing with his(?) daughter, is it? The bemused, childish face; the sickening naivety (What's "financial"?), the anecdotes of him abandoning his PlayStation to feed the baby. No, Alfie is, at heart, just as despicable as any of the other characters in this squalid saga. He was TWELVE, for fuck's sake! He should have been building a treehouse or playing cowboys and indians with his friends, not riding a bike. And all his comments about how he means to be a good father? Yeah right. Is he going to support his new family financially? Is he bollocks. Is he going to provide a solid role model for his offspring? Not a chance. Is he going to work hard at school to overcome that 5-month truancy and try to salvage some vestige of education? Dream on. Is he going to do a runner when Chantelle's ecstatic squeals from the locked bedroom ("'E's just 'elping me wiv my 'omework Alfie, don't be so boooring!") get loud enough to interfere with his enjoyment of Grand Theft Auto: Slut City? Almost certainly.

In a just world, these things would happen: Maisie Roxanne would be immediately removed from her despicable environment, renamed Louise and placed with decent adopters, at least one of whom is gainfully employed. Those responsible for the upbringings of Alfie and Chantelle would be sentenced to long prison terms on the grounds of child abuse. And the young lovers themselves would be surgically dismantled for spare parts before either of them has the opportunity to spawn again.

Storm warning...

I was two years old when this picture was taken. It shows a Soviet Tu-95 BEAR strategic bomber being intercepted and turned away from UK airspace by an RAF FGR Mk 1 Phantom. Once, this was a regular occurrence; Soviet bombers probed our airspace, and our fighters sought to detect them and drive them off. Pictures such as this showed up often in the newspapers and on TV. The fighter and bomber pilots played it as a game, taking photos of each other and exchanging waves high above the North Sea.

But we all knew that it was no game; that some day those bombers might come blazing in at low level behind a cloud of jamming and fighter escorts, racing to get within missile launch range before the RAF could scramble to shoot them down. There was nothing funny about it; the pilots on both sides were practicing for a war that could have erupted at any moment. That war wouldn't have prompted irate letters in the Telegraph or sanctimonious carping from the Mirror; it would have shattered Europe, east and west alike, and killed millions of her people. It was a huge relief to everyone when, in 1989, the Bears stopped their probes and the RAF fighters stood down. After 45 years, the shadow of World War III had lifted from us.

"Two Tu95 “Bear” bombers were dispatched from their base on the Kola Peninsula in the Arctic Circle and headed towards British airspace.

Russian military aircraft based near the northern port city of Murmansk fly patrols off the Norwegian coast regularly, but the RAF said that it was highly unusual for them to stray as far south as Scotland.

Two Tornado fighters, part of the RAF’s Quick Reaction Alert, took off from RAF Leeming, in Yorkshire, to confront the Russian aircraft, after they were shadowed by two F16s from the Royal Norwegian Air Force, The Times has learnt."

The quote above, unlike the photo, is not from the depths of the Cold War. It's from The Times, on 18 July 2007. The Bear, the iconic animal of Russia, is once more prowling off our shores.

Why? Is it because we've expelled Russian diplomats? Is it because we insist that Russia violates its constitution and hands over to us the alleged killer of a man condemned for treason by his own country - a man who converted to islam out of solidarity with the Chechen murderers? Is it because our NuLabour government insists on sheltering the enemies of a fellow European nation which, like us, has suffered terribly from the evil of islamist terrorism?

Russia is a splendid nation. It and its people have much in common with the UK. They are not our natural enemies unless we choose to make them so. Given the state of the world today we have much to offer each other, and it would be a shame to lose that for the sake of protecting a corrupt oligarch and an islamist terrorist.

Mr Brown, I lived under the threat of a Russian attack for the first half of my life. I was bloody happy when that threat lifted. I know what I said in my previous essay, Red Storm Rising, but this is becoming worryingly real now. I simply do not want to see the Soviet menace rise from the ashes like a huge, malevolent red Phoenix because of some warped obsession with the death of a traitorous terrorist-loving liar.

Forget Litvinenko; extradite Berezovsky; let Russia sort out their own internal security in Chechnya, as they let us do in Northern Ireland.

Stop seeking differences to squabble over when Britain and Russia have so much in common.

They don't like it up 'em!

I've been asked about my law and order polices. Well, here they are.

This essay is likely to offend. My heart pumps purple piss.

Britain currently has thousands of crimes on the statute books. We actually need three. Yes, only three. Here they are:

1. Theft. Defined as depriving another person of their personal property by taking or damaging it without consent. Second degree theft (i.e. unintentional theft, for example destroying a garden wall through careless driving) will be punished as a Class 2 crime.

2. Assault. Defined as causing bodily harm to another person except in defence of one's self or one's property. This includes rape, murder and the supply of dangerous substances such as drugs. Second degree assault (i.e. unintentional assault, for example injuring a person by building a sub-standard house extension which collapses into the street) will be punished as a Class 2 crime.

3. Treason. This includes spying for a foreign country and belonging to, or giving any form of support to, an organisation which is engaged in declared or undeclared war against British interests. Treason will always be a Class 1 crime.

Only three crimes. Dead simple, eh? Well, what's even simpler is the new sentencing policy. There will only be two sentences; Class 2 and Class 1.

Class 2 (unintentional) crimes will be punished by a fixed sentence of 15 years in prison. Reduction of this sentence will only be granted for actions which demonstrably prevent further crimes by other people.

Class 1 (deliberate) crimes will be punished by execution. The sentence will be carried out by a single pistol bullet fired into the nape of the neck. This is an entirely fitting punishment for those who deliberately harm others; I really have to wonder at the motivations of those who stand up for the "rights" of convicted rapists, murderers or thieves.

My policies will result in the deaths of thousands of criminals. They will also cut crime so much you wouldn't believe it.

Your call....

What would John Smeaton do?

Apparently we're not allowed to refer to "muslim terrorists" or "islamic terrorists" any more. The reason behind this is that British muslims feel alienated when terrorists are described as exclusively muslim, and are therefore less willing to assist anti-terror efforts by, for example, providing information to the security forces.

Am I the only one that finds this absurd? There is a perfectly good reason why terrorists are described as muslim; it's because that's what they are. They are muslims and it is the muslim religion which morivates them to carry out their crimes. There is a clear link between the current plague of terrorism and islam.

Now, maybe it's true that islam is opposed to the killing of innocents (although a read of the koran would suggest otherwise) but British muslims have to wake up and smell the coffee.

It's not enough any more to mutter a half-hearted condemnation of the latest atrocity then shift the blame to British/American/Israeli foreign policy. Quite bluntly, there are two legitimate positions that anyone who lives in Britain can have on UK foreign policy. These are:

1. Support Britain's foreign policy and oppose, condemn and fight against islamist terrorism.

2. Oppose Britain's foreign policy but oppose, condemn and fight against islamist terrorism.

Living in Britain but supporting al Qaida, the Taliban and the bastards who bomb British cities is NOT an option. If all these fuckers in their squalid little extremist groups feel so strongly about British troops in Iraq then they should fuck off to Iraq and do something about it there, on the clear understanding that if they are captured and identified as a British passport holder they will be shot out of hand as a traitor to their country.

I also suggest that anyone resident in the UK who fights against British troops anywhere in the world should have their passport revoked, and all right of entry to the UK permanently removed, as soon as their relatives report to the police that young Kafeel or whatever has run off to join the jihad. Any of their friends or relatives who know this and fail to report it should be permanently deported from the UK, and all their assets seized as compensation for the families of soldiers killed in action. Any British resident involved in a terrorist act in the UK should be hanged as a traitor and their assets likewise seized. Any friends or relatives who were aware of their involvement and did not report it should be permanently deported and have their assets seized.

Western culture is under sustained attack. Anyone who cites the Iraq debacle as justification has their head up their arse; bin Laden started his crazed jihad long before the 2003 invasion. This terrorist campaign by islamists is not about foreign policy or anything like that; it is an attempt to destroy and subjugate our society. All moderate British muslims have to realise that in the battle against islamist terrorism, if they are not with us they are against us.

There is no contradiction between being a devout muslim and living in the UK, and it is possible to do so productively and happily - as long as you realise that in Britain secular, not religious, law is what counts; that Britain has its own, long-established culture which you must respect and which yours must not interfere with; that your fellow Britons expect, rightfully, that your loyalty will be to Britain and not her enemies; that islam does not and should not occupy a central place in British society and it would be arrogant and unwelcome to argue otherwise; and that Britain is not an islamic country and that at least 98% of the population are implacably imposed to it ever becoming one.

On a personal level, I really have to wonder why someone who supports sharia law and the wrapping of women in bin bags would choose to live in a secular Western democracy.

In conclusion then, I would suggest that if you hear anyone, from deranged radical imam to politically correct Nu-Tory spokesman, say that islamist terrorism is a response to poverty, racism, Iraq or anything else apart from islamism itself, do what John Smeaton did:

"So I ran straight towards the guy, we're all trying to get a kick-in at him, take a boot to subdue the guy."

Another poem...

Twas doon by Glasgae airport
Oor Johnny walked one day
When he saw a sicht that troubled him
Far more than he could say.

"I'm no ha'en that," wur Johnny cried
And sallied tae the fray
A left hook and a heid butt
Required tae save the day.

Now listen up Bin Laden
Yir sort's nae wanted here
Frae al Qaida bastards
Us Scoatsman huv nae fear

Religious tolerance

Maybe we should try to be more understanding of what these guys did though.

After all, they were just celebrating Ramavan.

Paradise awaits...

Did you ram my pint?

I just found a wonderful poem about the terrorist attack on Glasgow Airport.

Och Firey, Flaming Jeep Cherokee
What in he'en went wrong with thee?
Petrol poured I over me,
Three score and twelve virgins to see

But a passer by who saw my stunt
Said 'Te'ek tha' ya wee Jihadist Cunt!'
And with his forearm, quite distinguished
Ma bid for martyrdom extinguished.

Kafeel Ahmed, I hope that you are currently screaming in hideous and unceasing agony from your burns; I hope that someone has added pig fat to your IV line; I hope that you die surrounded by Scottish medics who hate and despise you; and I hope that as you draw your last pain-filled breath you realise that there is no god, you will never see paradise and that you have wasted your life on a Dark Age fairy tale. I hope that the last sound you ever hear is sadistic laughter.

I'm glad you burned, you Jihadist bastard.