Very fine people

 

© The Independent

 

Thank you, Grand Wizard Trump, for that enlightening and perceptive press conference you gave on Tuesday in which you set the record straight about the previous weekend’s events in Charlottesville, Virginia.

 

In my wide-eyed, libtard, snowflaky naivete, I’d thought the violence in Charlottesville had been the result of some bad guys: Nazi white-supremacists marching around with swastika-emblazoned flags, swastikas being the symbol of people who sent six million of their fellow human beings to the gas chambers during World War II.  That sounds pretty bad, right?  At Charlottesville, they were challenged by some good guys: counter-protesters who took exception to the Nazis and their genocidal ideology.  That sounds like a good thing to do, right?  The bad guys reacted badly to being challenged by the good guys, to the point where one of them drove a car into a group of counter-protesters, killing one person and injuring 19 others.  Not only did that seem like a very bad action, but some folk argued that it qualified as terrorism.  However, some other folk disagreed, since the perpetrator wasn’t a Muslim and he only did non-terroristy things like idolize Adolf Hitler.

 

However, now that Führer Trump has explained in fluent and convincing detail what really happened at Charlottesville, I stand corrected.  You see, he knows “a lot about Charlottesville” because, as he pointed out, he has a winery there.  (“I own actually one of the largest wineries in the United States that’s in Charlottesville.”)  So we can take his pronouncements as truth.  I now realize that the Nazis weren’t such a bad lot because there were many “very fine people” among their ranks.  Furthermore, they could “innocently protest” and “very legally protest” because “they had a permit”.  There were a few bad eggs among those Nazis, of course.  But let’s not forget “there’s blame on both sides” because those pesky meddling anti-Nazi demonstrators (“you can call them the left” or “alt-left”) had a contingent “that was also very violent” and “came charging, with clubs in their hands, swinging clubs” and “were very, very violent” and “it was a horrible thing to watch.”  They were “troublemakers and you see them come with the black outfits and with the helmets and with the clubs.”  Plus they “came charging in without a permit.”

 

Oddly enough, Reichsmarschall Trump’s wise words have not been well received by American politicians of both Democrat and Republican persuasions who’ve spent the past two days tweeting their dismay at him.  But David Duke, boss of the KKK – that’s the Ku Klux Klan, whom I hear are a wee bit racist, but I’m sure many of their members are actually very fine people – did tweet admiringly: “Thank you President Trump for your honesty and courage to tell the truth about #Charlottesville and condemn the leftist terrorists.”

 

Now that the scales have finally been removed from my eyes about the Nazis, thanks to Il Duce Trump, and now that I understand how they included many fine people and only did Nazi-type things when they had a permit to do so, I can revisit all the Nazi-related pieces of popular culture that I grew up with and view them in a new light.  For example:

 

© Ealing Studios

 

Let George Do It!  (1940)

German Führer Adolf Hitler has a permit to very innocently and legally give a speech at a Nuremburg Rally attended by thousands of Nazis, who include some very fine people.  Suddenly, however, the notorious alt-left music-hall troublemaker and all-round bad hombre George Formby shins down a rope from a passing balloon and gives a blood-curdling Marxist cry of “I’ll knock your block off!”  Then he charges in with a cheeky grin and with a Wigan accent and with a ukulele in his hand and punches the poor Führer on the chin.  After President Trump apportions blame to both sides, Adolf Hitler tweets: “Thank you President Trump for your honesty and courage to tell the truth about #GeorgeFormby and condemn the leftist Lancashire terrorist.”

 

© Penguin Books

 

Moonraker (1955)

Fanatical Social Justice Warrior / feminazi / ecofascist James Bond of the alt-left terrorist outfit MI6 is directed by his boss M (short for ‘Mao’, presumably) to be very, very violent towards Hugo Drax, who’s a Trumpian multimillionaire, the former head of a German Nazi commando unit and a very fine person.  Nasty Bond comes charging in with his licence to kill and with his shaken-not-stirred-vodka-and-martini and with his twangy Monty Norman theme tune and messes up Drax’s plan, which he has a permit for, signed by himself, to fire a nuclear missile at Londonistan and sort out its Muslim mayor with fire and fury.   It’s a horrible thing to watch.

 

© Associated British Pathé

 

Ice Cold in Alex (1958)

Alt-left troublemakers Johnny ‘Guevara’ Mills, Harry ‘Ho Chi Minh’ Andrews and Sylvia ‘Osamu’ Sims commandeer an ambulance and in a cold-blooded act of terrorism drive it straight into the middle of Rommel’s Afrika Korps, which contains some very fine people.  Luckily, because this is the eastern Sahara, they miss their targets, who are innocently and legally attacking Tobruk, by several miles.  Then the thirsty terrorists head for Alexandria to have a beer and link up with ISIS.  “Worth waiting for!” declares Mills at the end, no doubt referring to the overthrow of capitalism.

 

© United Artists

 

The Great Escape (1963)

It’s 1943 in peaceful, neighbourly Nazi Germany.  A rabble of leftist terrorists, whose codenames include such sinister monikers as Big X, The Forger, The Scrounger, The Tunnel King and Eric Ashley-Pitt, bust out of a high-security detention camp set up by the Nazis, who include some very fine people, and terrorise the surrounding countryside.  One alt-left troublemaker called The Cooler King commandeers a motorbike and in a cold-blooded act of terrorism drives it straight into the middle of an innocent Swiss-border fence.  Finally, the Gestapo round up 50 escapees and machine-gun them all to death, which is okay because they have a permit.  “There’s blame on both sides,” comments President Trump.

 

© BBC

 

Dad’s Army (1973)

A sinister alt-left collective known as the Walmington-on-Sea Home Guard come charging in with some M1917 Enfield rifles and with a butcher’s van and with a variety of comic catchphrases and take hostage the crew of a Nazi-Germany U-Boat, who include some very fine people and who have a permit, signed by Adolf Hitler, to innocently and legally torpedo and sink large amounts of British shipping.  The sadistic and arthritic leftist troublemakers goad their victims by singing the blood-curdling Marxist anthem, “Whistle while you work / Hitler is a twerp / He’s half-barmy / So his army…”  It’s a horrible thing to hear.

 

*****

 

But seriously – seriously – I can only surmise that the reason why Trump was so keen to give those Nazis / white supremacists / KKK / alt-right goons a friendly nod and wink, as if to say, “Don’t worry, guys, I’m on your side, really,” is because so many of them showed up at Charlottesville armed to the teeth and wearing militia uniforms.  He must be hoping that if the House Committee and the Judiciary ever get around to impeaching him, his swastika-bearing admirers will swarm out onto the streets, start shooting people and mount a coup d’etat to save him.

 

Meanwhile, I’m bemused by how so many British right-wingers have been jumping to Trump’s defence and / or shouting “It’s none of our business what happens in America!” on social media.  These are people with avatars that show Union Jacks and with profiles that express their love for UKIP and Brexit.  You know, the sort of folk who normally never shut up about how plucky little Britain fought off the Nazis during World War II.

 

Oh well.  Here’s a clip of George Formby’s finest 50 seconds.  Go on, George.  Lamp the bastard.

 

The multiple personalities of Ruth Davidson

 

From caltonjock.com

From zimbio.com

(c) BBC

 

I’m looking forward to the new movie Split, written and directed by M. Night Shyamalan.  Ever since Shyamalan made his name in 1999 with the spooky classic The Sixth Sense, he seems to have frittered away his talent with a string of increasingly disappointing films like Lady in the Water (2006), The Happening (2008), The Last Airbender (2010) and After Earth (2013), but early reviews of Split have been largely positive and suggest Shyamalan has retrieved his mojo.  What has particularly impressed the critics is the film’s central performance by Scottish actor James McAvoy, who plays a man with multiple-personality disorder.  In fact, McAvoy’s condition is so extreme that he’s inhabited by no fewer than 23 different, competing and sometimes conflicting personalities.

 

But James McAvoy isn’t the only Scot who’s displayed symptoms of multiple-personality disorder recently.  If you examine the pronouncements of Ruth Davidson, leader of the Scottish Conservative Party, it’s clear that poor Ruth isn’t a single psychological entity either.  Rather, she’s a walking battleground where various, often diametrically-opposed personalities fight for supremacy.

 

For example, there’s one personality within Ruth that’s staunchly pro-European Union.  This personality was in control, temporarily, when she took part in a debate before last June’s vote on whether or not Britain should leave the EU.  Railing against the Brexiting likes of Boris Johnson, Gisela Stuart and Andrea Leadsom, she declared, “The other side have said throughout this debate that they don’t like experts but when it comes to keeping this country safe and secure I want to listen to the experts.  So when the head of GCHQ says we are safer in the EU I listen.  When five former NATO chiefs say we are safer in the EU I listen.  When the head of Interpol, who is a Brit, says we are safer in the EU I listen.  When the head of MI5 and MI6 says we are safer in the EU I listen.”  Even the left-wing, anti-Tory New Statesman magazine was sufficiently impressed to call her a ‘stand-out performer’ afterwards.

 

http://www.newstatesman.com/politics/uk/2016/06/eu-referendum-debate-sadiq-khan-and-ruth-davidson-give-remain-punch-it-needs

 

From politicshome.com

 

Presumably it was the same pro-EU version of Ruth who, before the referendum, posed with other Scottish political party leaders of in support a ‘remain’ vote.  And the same version again who, two years earlier, had urged the Scots to vote ‘no’ to independence (and ‘yes’ to remaining part of the UK) for the reason that this would guarantee Scotland’s place in the European Union: “No means we stay in, we are members of the European Union.”

 

Oops, that didn’t work out well, did it?

 

But fast-forward to today.  The British public narrowly voted to leave the EU and suddenly a new personality has wrested control of Ruth Davidson, one that’s in favour of Britain quitting the EU too; one that sees juicy economic opportunities for post-EU Britain; and one that opposes everything the Scottish National Party, which runs the devolved Scottish government in Edinburgh, is trying to do to preserve Scotland’s place in the EU.  Britain – though admittedly not Scotland, which voted by 62% to 38% to stay – chose to leave the EU, barks this new Ruth.  So get over the result and get on with Brexiting!

 

Admittedly, Ruth’s new pro-Brexit personality has at least expressed support for the UK, and by extension Scotland, remaining in the EU’s single market.  It’s something she believes Scotland should have “the largest amount of access to.”   Though Theresa May, British Prime Minister, Tory supremo and Ruth’s big boss in London, ruled this out in a speech a week ago when she declared that Britain “cannot possibly” remain in the single market because it would mean “not leaving the EU at all.”

 

Oops again.  That didn’t work out well, did it?

 

http://www.bbc.com/news/uk-scotland-38555683

http://www.bbc.com/news/uk-politics-38641208

 

I suspect a third personality might surface in Ruth Davidson soon.  One that’s totally hard-line in its support of Brexit and rejects the single market as much as it rejects every other aspect of the EU – you know, sort of like what Theresa May’s been saying.  I don’t know why I think this.  Call it a hunch.

 

There’s yet another personality lurking inside Ruth that manifests itself occasionally – one that loathes the USA’s new president, Donald Trump.  This personality was clearly in control of Ruth last year when she borrowed a quote from Shakespeare’s Henry IV, Part 1 and trolled the ginger-skinned tycoon on Twitter: “Trump’s a clay-brained guts, knotty-pated fool, whoreson obscene greasy tallow-catch, right?”

 

Yet two days ago, her boss Theresa May arrived in the USA to meet President Trump and suddenly another personality took hold of poor Ruth – one that seemed a lot more sanguine about the clay-brained, knotty-pated, whoreson, obscene, greasy, etc. businessman-cum-world-leader.  This new version of Ruth believed May – who described Trump’s presidency as dawn breaking “on a new era of American renewal” – just had to open her mouth and talk a wee bit of sense into him and everything would be okay.  May’s first speech in the USA, tweeted this new Ruth, “promotes liberal internationalism, warns on Putin, defends Muslims and makes case for democratic leadership in the world.  Bravo.”

 

Actually, Ruth’s words about May defending Muslims were perhaps a bit premature seeing as soon afterwards Trump slapped a ban on refugees entering the USA from Syria, Iraq, Iran, Libya, Somalia, Sudan and Yemen.  On Holocaust Memorial Day of all days, too.

 

Oops, that didn’t work out well, did it?

 

Some people would argue that Ruth Davidson doesn’t have a multiple-personality disorder at all – that her situation as a Conservative with reasonably liberal instincts and something of a social conscience who runs the Scottish branch of her party but who has to take orders from a considerably more right-wing regime in London means that during her pronouncements she needs to do more twisting and turning than a whirling dervish.  But I don’t believe Ruth could be as supine and pathetic as that.  I think there’s something genuinely, seriously wrong with her.  She ought to see a psychiatrist immediately.

 

But who’s going to have a word with her?  Who’s going to take her aside and give her this well-meaning but unpleasant advice?  Probably not her many sycophantic fans in the mainstream Scottish press, who kiss her arse as enthusiastically as Theresa May’s been kissing Trump’s arse recently.

 

© Blinding Edge Pictures / Blumhouse Productions

 

Mid-January news round-up

 

Here at Blood and Porridge I like to think I have my finger on the pulse, offering opinions on the big news stories the moment they happen.  Alas, I’ve been up to my eyes in work this last fortnight and haven’t been able to post much.  And meanwhile, during the same fortnight, the big news stories have come thick and fast.

 

To make amends, here’s a quick round-up of those recent news items as Blood and Porridge sees them.

 

Knobhead of 2017 found already

Only two-and-a-half weeks ago I named Nigel Farage as the biggest knobhead of 2016.  The reason why Farage won that title despite stiff opposition from US president-elect Donald Trump was because: “Trump is the equivalent of the loud malevolent playground bully who blighted your childhood.  But there was always one kid who was more detestably obnoxious than that – the slimy little sneak who grovelled before and sucked up to the bully, hoping to attain a smidgeon of his aura of cruel power.  And since it became clear that Trump was going to be the most powerful man on the planet, Farage has been doing a good impersonation of the slimy little sneak, scurrying across the Atlantic to do some major sucking up to the gruesome orange-skinned tycoon.”

 

Well, if that’s the criteria for making yourself the most loathsome and pustulent human being of the year, it looks like we already have a winner for 2017.

 

© The Daily Mirror

 

Michael Gove recently scuttled over to Trump Tower in New York to sychophantically interview Trump on behalf of the Times newspaper.  The resulting article was shocking even before Gove started the interview.  Describing the ascent in the Trump Tower’s infamous gold-plated lift, he wrote, “It was as though the Great Glass Elevator from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory had been restyled by Donatella Versace, then staffed by the casting director for Gone with the Wind.”  Gove felt moved to insert that Gone with the Wind reference because the lift had an “African-American attendant kitted out in frock coat and white cotton gloves.”  I wonder if the Trump organisation had forced him to pick the cotton that his gloves were made of.

 

Is Trump a Russian plant?

Speaking of Donald Trump, there’s been a kerfuffle lately about an intelligence dossier accusing Trump of being a puppet of Russian president Vladimir Putin.  The dossier alleges that those pesky Russkies spent more than five years cultivating Trump as a US presidential candidate with the intention of getting him into the White House and letting him wreak havoc on the Western world.  It also warns that they have “potentially compromising personal and financial information about him”, including saucy stuff involving prostitutes and what’s euphemistically known as ‘golden showers’.  Cue a million jokes on Twitter about Trump being the next Pee-OTUS and about him talking pish.  Oh, and ‘urine for a shock’ when he becomes president.

 

From talkingpointsmemo.com

 

Just before Trump’s lawyers get in touch with Blood and Porridge, I should say the dossier’s claims are so far unverified and their accuracy has been questioned in many quarters, not just by Trump’s supporters.  And the Orange One himself has strenuously denounced them as ‘fake news’ and ‘phony stuff’.

 

Still, this malarkey calls to mind certain works of fiction and celluloid – for example, Richard Conlon’s conspiracy thriller The Manchurian Candidate (1959), filmed in 1962 and 2004, about the Chinese and Russians using a brainwashed Korean War veteran to carry out a political assassination in the USA; and Robert Harris’s The Ghost (2007), filmed three years later by Roman Polanski, in which a very Tony Blair-esque former British prime minister turns out to have been a CIA plant.

 

My favourite entry in this sub-genre, though, is the Don Siegel-directed movie Telefon (1977), based on a 1975 novel by William Wager, in which mad Russian scientist Donald Pleasance tries to start World War III by activating a network of brainwashed sleeper-agents across the USA.  These agents develop a glazed look and lumber off and attack American military installations as soon as Pleasance gives them a ‘trigger’, which is the recital of certain lines of verse by Robert Frost: “The woods are lovely, dark and deep / But I have promises to keep / And miles to go before I sleep…

 

© MGM

 

Not that I think Trump would become glazed-eyed and trudge off zombie-like to attack a military installation if you recited Robert Frost at him.  Somehow, I doubt if poetry has much effect on him.  In fact, he probably he thinks Robert Frost was the guy who interviewed Nixon.

 

May rejects Europe, except for Bulgaria

January 17th saw British prime minister Theresa May give a historic speech about the nature of Britain’s ‘Brexit’ from the European Union at Lancaster House.  Guess what?  It’s going to be hard!

 

If there was one thing ghastlier than Ms May’s pronouncements – she even warned that if the EU didn’t accommodate Britain’s demands, she would “change the basis of Britain’s economic model”, i.e. slash taxes to lure businesses away from the EU even though this would leave next-to-no-money to pay for Britain’s public services – it was the head-to-toe blue tartan outfit she wore that day.

 

© The Daily Telegraph

 

It makes me wonder if someone somewhere is making a movie of the old British TV children’s series The Wombles and May fancies her chances of landing the role of the Wombles’ venerable patriarch, Great Uncle Bulgaria.

 

From Wombles Wiki

 

Trump’s inauguration still short of talent

Back to Donald Trump.  His presidential inauguration ceremony in Washington DC on January 20th has been beset by problems.  At least 50 Democrat lawmakers have announced they’ll be staying away.  The demand for hotel rooms has been low compared to previous inaugurations, with some Washington DC hotels reporting they’re only half-full.  And scalpers are struggling to offload tickets for the event.

 

On top of all that, there’s been a noticeable reluctance among the musical community to perform at the thing.  Everyone from Elton John to Celine Dion, Kiss and even Vince Neil of Motley Crüe have turned down invitations to sing / play and the names booked for the inauguration concerts aren’t exactly household ones, at least not in the Blood and Porridge household: Jackie Evancho, Three Doors Down, The Piano Guys, Toby Keith, Lee Greenwood, DJ Ravidrums and the Frontmen of Country.

 

Apparently, a group called the B Street Band, who do covers of songs by Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, were on the line-up but recently cancelled.  They cited as their reason the ‘respect and gratitude we have for Bruce,’ who coincidentally hates Trump’s guts.  Maybe there’s another Springsteen tribute band that could be recruited?  The C Street Band?  The D Street Band?

 

But if Trump’s people are still hunting for a performer to enliven those inauguration day concerts, I could direct them to one famous artiste whom I’m sure would be only too happy to step in at the last minute.

 

He’s someone whose stomping, glitzy anthems capture both the brassy boldness that Donald Trump no doubt believes is one of his winning qualities and the shiny opulence of the Trump empire, gold-plated lifts and all.  Someone who was a legend in his time, but who’s been off the radar for a little while and would surely welcome the new exposure that playing the inauguration would bring.

 

Yes, I give you…

 

From blog.thecurrent.org

 

Knobhead of the Year

 

If 2016 hadn’t been so stomach-churningly hideous, there would’ve been only one serious contender for the title of Knobhead of the Year.  Donald Trump, a man with the IQ of lichen, the charisma of diarrhoea and the moral compass of Beelzebub, was elected 45th president of the United States on November 8th.  He didn’t actually win the election, since he garnered 2.83 million fewer votes than his main opponent.  But fortunately for him the US electoral college system proved to be as demented and rotten as he was.

 

However, 2016 was also the year when a majority of Britons voted for Brexit, their brains apparently reduced to mush by the grisly Brexit cheerleading of people like Conservative MPs Michael Gove and Boris Johnson and then-UKIP leader Nigel Farage.  And it’s the third of this venal triumvirate, Farage, whom I think out-Trumps even Trump in the 2016 knobhead stakes.

 

© Daily Mirror

 

Farage’s antics during the past year have included, a month before the Brexit vote, the launching of a campaign poster depicting hundreds of traumatised Syrian refugees queuing to get into Slovenia with the slogan BREAKING POINT emblazoned on it and the insinuation that all these scary brown-skinned people would soon be invading Britain if it remained in the EU.  The poster bore a chilling resemblance to a clip of old Nazi propaganda that ranted about undesirables flooding “Europe’s cities after the last war… parasites, undermining their host countries.”

 

The Monday after the Brexit vote he got up in the European Parliament – an institution he’s been a member of for the last 20 years without, it’s fair to say, doing much in the way of work – and told his fellow MEPs, “I know that virtually none of you have never (sic) done a proper job in your lives.”  Seen facepalming behind Farage was Lithuanian MEP Vytenis Andriukaitis, whose useless, proper-job-free life had seen him growing up during the Stalin era in exile in the Yakut Autonomous Soviet Socialist Republic, overcoming such unpromising beginnings to qualify as a cardiac surgeon and eventually being a co-signatory of the act re-establishing Lithuania as an independent state.

 

From abc.net.au

 

Farage rounded off 2016 in similar classy style by attacking Brendan Cox – husband of Jo Cox, the late Labour Party MP for Batley and Spen in West Yorkshire, a pro-European and pro-refugee politician who was murdered shortly before the Brexit vote by a right-wing terrorist called Thomas Mair.  Referring to Hope Not Hate, an organisation campaigning against far-right militant groups that’s supported by Cox and funded by a foundation set up in his wife’s name, Farage said: “He backs organisations like Hope Not Hate, who masquerade as being lovely and peaceful, but actually pursue violent and undemocratic means.”  Hope Not Hate have demanded an apology from Farage for this slur, but I’m not holding my breath about them getting one.

 

But for me what clinches Farage’s status as a truly vile human being is his relationship with the US President-elect.  Trump is the equivalent of the loud malevolent playground bully who blighted your childhood.  But there was always one kid who was more detestably obnoxious than that – the slimy little sneak who grovelled before and sucked up to the bully, hoping to attain a smidgeon of his aura of cruel power.  And since it became clear that Trump was going to be the most powerful man on the planet, Farage has been doing a good impersonation of the slimy little sneak, scurrying across the Atlantic to do some major sucking up to the gruesome orange-skinned tycoon.

 

According to Farage, Trump is “full of good ideas”.  He’s confident he “will be a good president” – not like his White House predecessor, whom Farage has described as a “creature” and a “loathsome individual”.  Mind you, Farage also thought Trump was creature-like, though in a positive sense.  After one of Trump’s presidential debates with Hillary Clinton, he admiringly likened him to “a big silverback gorilla prowling the studio”.  Meanwhile, Trump managed to remember who Farage is long enough to tweet that many British people would like to see him “as their ambassador to the United States.  He would do a great job!”

 

Farage has raved about 2016 being the year that the “little people decided they could assert themselves and could actually beat the establishment.”  This utterance was made without irony, despite the allegedly anti-establishment Farage being a former pupil of Dulwich College, a former commodities trader in the City and the sort of guy who if there were ever little people in the vicinity of his house would probably set the dogs on them.  And I doubt if many little people are allowed in the same postal district as Farage’s new best friend, Mr Trump.  They certainly wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near the golden lift-doors in Trump Tower, before which Trump and Farage posed for this nauseating and now-infamous photo.

 

© Daily Telegraph

 

Those little people will soon be feeling the pinch in Britain – a country where many folk are already dependent on foodbanks – when the 40 percent of their food that’s imported gets subjected to post-Brexit tariffs and its price gets jacked up further as the pound goes through the floor following the activation of Article 50.  No wonder Farage seems to be doing his best to get out of Blighty before the shit hits the fan.  I reckon 2016’s biggest knobhead is making plans to move to the USA permanently, where he’ll probably end up residing inside Donald Trump’s arse.

 

Tartanising Trump

 

© BBC

 

Almost immediately after the news that Donald Trump had won the US presidency, I had a depressing thought – admittedly, one of many depressing thoughts.  How long would it be before the scribes of Scotland’s unionist media and the orators of its unionist political parties started using Trump’s victory as a weapon against the Scottish National Party, and against SNP leader and Scottish First Minister Nicola Sturgeon, and against everyone who voted for Scottish independence when there was a referendum about it in 2014?

 

Answer: not long.  Writing recently in the Scottish Daily Mail, journalist Paul Sinclair – once an advisor to former Scottish Labour Party leader Johann Lamont, now a contributor to one of the most right-wing newspapers in Britain – compared Nicola Sturgeon to Hillary Clinton.  “The public don’t seem to like husband and wife – or indeed wife and husband – teams any more… Miss Sturgeon may turn out to be Scotland’s Hillary-plus – utterly defeated without the consolation of even Hillary’s plus points.”  Sinclair’s reasoning seems to be that Sturgeon is a woman, which is what Hillary Clinton is; and she’s married, which is also true of Hillary Clinton; and her husband is involved in politics like Hillary Clinton’s husband is (although Nicola’s hubby, the SNP chief executive Peter Murrell, is possibly a wee bit less in the public eye than Hillary’s one); so all that makes her a Scottish equivalent of Hillary Clinton, who has just lost an election and is a loser.

 

Therefore, Nicola = Loser.  Though the equation that the article suggests to me is Paul Sinclair = Tosser.  I’m not providing a link to the article, by the way, because it’s published by the Daily Mail and for me Daily Mail = Wankers.

 

A more popular narrative that’s surfaced among Scottish unionists over the past week, though, is one equating the independence movement not with Hillary Clinton, but with Donald Trump – and for that matter, with that previous example of extreme electoral nuttiness back in June, Britain voting for Brexit from the European Union.

 

The reliably and wilfully ignorant Scottish Labour commentator Ian Smart tweeted two days after the Trump victory that “it’s increasingly clear we resisted a worrying rising tide in September 2014.”  This was echoed in a tweet by Conservative Member of the Scottish Parliament Murdo Fraser: “If it was mostly poorly-educated working-class males who voted Trump, wasn’t it the same demographic that largely voted yes in 2014?”

 

Actually, I will digress for a moment about Murdo Fraser, who only last month declared on Twitter, “I’m British and I’m staying that way.”  I remember him as a fellow student during my college days at Aberdeen in the 1980s, where he was a member of the FCS, the Federation of Conservative Students.  The FCS were an organisation so obnoxiously right-wing that they embarrassed even Norman Tebbit, who was then Conservative Party Chairman and not much left of Vlad the Impaler in his own political beliefs; and he had them disbanded in 1986.  When Murdo and his FCS mates weren’t strutting around the campus waving the Union Jack, they were behaving like pillocks towards gay students, singing “Hang Nelson Mandela!” at discos whenever the DJ played the Special AKA anthem Free Nelson Mandela, and making nuisances of themselves in pubs yelling “F*** the Pope!”  But I guess that for Murdo, white, Protestant British nationalism is all good; whereas Scottish nationalism is unspeakably bad.

 

© The National

 

The same theme was reiterated in a slightly subtler form by Scottish Daily Mail journalist Chris Deerin, who wrote on November 12th: “Trump’s triumphed, Britain’s Brexiting, Le Pen’s close enough to being La Presidente…  The three most powerful words in politics are Take Back Control.  The world is engaged in one of its cyclical bouts of disaggregation, having bumped up against the reality, yet again, that our species is intractably tribal, pre-dominantly self-interested and, when it comes down to it, pretty psychologically basic…  why, in 2014, did Scotland buck the trend?  Put another way, what’s wrong (or right) with us…?  How the SNP’s leaders must curse their luck that they were forced to go first.”

 

Again, I’m not providing a link to Deerin’s article because it’s in the Daily Mail.  And again, Daily Mail = Wankers.

 

Well, this may be news to the likes of Ian Smart, Murdo Fraser and Chris Deerin, but in 2014 Donald Trump was on their side.  He wanted Scots to vote against independence, not for it, and after the result was announced in favour of ‘no’ he hailed it as “a great decision”.  The ‘no’ side also enjoyed the backing of UKIP’s Nigel Farage, who since Trump’s victory seems to have become the orange-skinned ogre’s new British best pal and appointed himself as unofficial go-between for Trump Tower and Downing Street.  Also backing a Scottish ‘no’ was British Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson, who’s recently claimed that there’s “a lot to be positive about” Trump’s presidency and berated Europeans for whingeing about him.  All the right-wing newspapers who backed Brexit and are now warming to the prospect of a Trump presidency, such as the Daily Telegraph and that odious scum-sheet the Daily Express, were vociferous ‘no’ supporters as well.  As were the UK’s equivalents of the Trump-endorsing Ku Klux Klan, like the National Front, British National Party and English and Scottish Defence Leagues.

 

Thanks to the rejection of independence in 2014, Scotland is now locked inside a Brexiting and increasing xenophobic Britain that looks set to carve out a new international role for itself as a loathsome wee sidekick to the big-mouthed, ignorant, bigoted, misogynistic Trump.  Incidentally, those who wanted Scotland to become independent in 2014 were also keen to remove the nuclear submarines and their cargoes of Trident missiles from their home at Clyde Naval Base, 25 miles from the city of Glasgow, and expel them from the country.  But because of the ‘no’ vote, these weapons of mass destruction will be based in Scotland for the foreseeable future and from next year their usage will depend on the whims of a belligerent ignoramus in Washington.  (Only a British nationalist as deluded as Murdo Fraser would believe that Britain’s supposed nuclear deterrent is actually controlled from London.)

 

Voting ‘no’ in September 2014 was the equivalent of voting ‘leave’ in June 2016 and voting for Trump in November 2016.  And if you can’t see that, you need your head examined.

 

Numpties and Trumpties

 

In my previous blog-entry, posted yesterday, I wondered if a majority of voters in the United States would be dumb enough to vote into power the environment-wrecking, Mexican-baiting, Muslim-hating, tax-avoiding, pussy-grabbing Donald Trump – just as a few months ago a majority of the British electorate stupidly chainsawed off their own noses to spite their faces by voting to leave the European Union.

 

Well, an emphatic answer to that question has just been delivered: yes.  Truly, 2016 will go down in the history books as the year when the Anglo-Saxon nations decided to commit political, economic and social hara-kiri.

 

So what do the next four years with President Donald Trump at the helm hold for the USA and for the rest of the world?  I suppose the best-case scenario is that the White House merely becomes an even crasser, more vulgar, more embarrassing and more grotesque version of this:

 

From www.theconversation.com

 

And as for the worst-case scenario?  Well, I guess that would probably be something like this:

 

© Lucasfilm Ltd / 20th Century Fox

 

Let’s just hope he keeps his stubby little fingers away from the controls of the Death Star.  Good luck, everybody.

 

Will the new moronism strike again?

 

From paxonbothhouses.blogspot.com

 

At one point in James Cameron’s masterly 1986 movie Aliens, an exasperated Sigourney Weaver demands, “Did IQs just drop sharply while I was away?”  As someone who’s been out of the United Kingdom for a while, I often find myself asking the same question.

 

I’ve asked it during the last four-and-a-half months especially.  That’s since June 23rd, when a narrow majority of the UK electorate voted for Brexit, i.e. leaving the European Union.

 

It’s well-documented that many Brexit supporters came from areas and social classes that feel most disfranchised in modern-day Britain and feel most distant from the country’s centres of political, economic and cultural power (which are invariably in London).  So they followed the advice of the likes of Nigel Farage, Michael Gove and Boris Johnson and used the Brexit referendum as a means to raise a middle finger at the establishment.

 

Of course, there’s no way that Farage, Gove or Johnson could be described as members of the British establishment.  Oh no.  Not Nigel Farage, who was educated at Dulwich College and once worked as a commodity trader in the City of London; not Michael Gove, who was educated at Oxford University and served as a president of the Oxford Union and worked as a journalist with the Times and Spectator; and certainly not Boris Johnson, who was educated at Eton College and Oxford University and worked as a journalist with the Times, Spectator and Daily Telegraph.  Wot, establishment?  Not us, guvnor.

 

Often, the areas most strongly in favour of Brexit were the ones most economically dependent on the EU.  According to the Financial Times, East Yorkshire and Northern Lincolnshire sends a bigger proportion of its exports to the EU than anywhere else in Britain, yet in June 65% of its voters told the EU to go and get stuffed.  Similarly, many Brexit voters came from the poorer end of society, where food security is a constant worry.  With Britain having to import 40% of its food these days, and the pound weakening post-Brexit, and the likelihood of post-EU tariffs being added to many imports, the prices of things on the supermarket shelves can only rocket upwards.  So with Brexit likely to f**k up your local economy and f**k up your household budget, voting for it was probably, you know, stupid.

 

Still, I’m sure that such anti-establishment rebels as Nigel Farage (who’s worth about three million pounds according to www.the-net-worth.com) and Boris Johnson (who’s earned twice as much as the prime minister in the last two years according to the Daily Mail) will be sharing the pain with you.

 

From www.christopherfowler.co.uk

 

In another example of Brexit stupidity, Boris Johnson enthused at this year’s Conservative Party conference about Britain being a world leader in ‘soft’ power, i.e. diplomatic, cultural, economic and educational influence.  He spoke of “the vast and subtle and persuasive extension of British influence around the world that goes with having a language that was invented and perfected in this country, and now has more speakers than any other language on earth.”  He described the ‘gentle, kindly gunboats of British soft power’ going ‘up the creeks and inlets of every continent on earth’ captained by such British cultural icons as ‘Jeremy Clarkson’, ‘J.K. Rowling’ and ‘the BBC’.

 

Johnson got it wrong about English having the most speakers of any language – in 2015, 962 million people spoke English compared to the 1090 million who spoke Mandarin Chinese – but Britain has topped tables of countries ranked by their estimated soft power.  In July 2015, an article in the Economist cited as possible reasons for this Britain’s ‘chart-topping music albums’, the ‘foreign following of its football teams’, its universities ‘attracting vast numbers of foreign students’ and the country generally having a good ‘engagement’ with the world.

 

That was in 2015, mind you, a year before Brexit.  Now is it not just really, really, really stupid for Johnson to brag about Britain’s soft-power capacity when he’s championed the cause that’s f***ed that capacity up its arse?  The vote and the toxic shenanigans that followed – racists suddenly feeling entitled to verbally and physically assault foreigners on the streets, the obnoxious anti-European, anti-foreigner rhetoric displayed at the Tory Party conference – must have snookered Britain’s soft-power status.  No wonder that a fortnight ago it was reported that the number of European students applying to British universities has dropped by 9%.

 

Having soft power depends on people around the world liking and respecting you.  Brexit and its legacy have changed that for Britain, and not just in terms of how the rest of Europe views it – I can see attitudes changing too in southern Asia, where I live now.  Until very recently, Britain was regarded as being a bit starchy and old-fashioned, but cool – sort of like Colin Firth in Kingsman: The Secret Service (2014).  Now Britain is regarded as an international village idiot, gibbering and self-harming in its hovel somewhere beyond the outskirts of Europe.

 

Of course, just now, anyone daring to question the wisdom of Brexit is labelled a traitor by Brexit-crazy British politicians and Brexit-crazy British newspapers (shit-sheets like the Daily Mail, Daily Express, Sun and the increasingly crass Daily Telegraph).  Doubters, prevaricators and sceptics are accused of unpatriotically talking the country down.  Concerned economists are dismissed as untrustworthy ‘experts’ – as Michael Gove said memorably, the British “have had enough of experts.”  Fie on you, traitorous experts, for having the temerity to know stuff!

 

Meanwhile, any critic of Brexit with cultural leanings is damned as a ‘left-wing luvvie’.  This label has even been attached to the former England football-team captain Gary Lineker, who recently tweeted his discomfort at post-Brexit Britain and the hostility of attitudes towards children from the ‘Calais Jungle’ migrant camp in France.

 

Generally, being slightly less-than-enthusiastic about Brexit marks you out as a member of the ‘liberal metropolitan elite’ who voted to remain in the EU – a sneering minority accounting for a mere 48% of the votes cast.  That’s the derisive term used by Britain’s gloriously Brexiting Prime Minister Theresa May, who back in June had supported Britain remaining in the EU.

 

It feels like a new virus that turns people into morons is on the loose.  And it feels like Britain has succumbed to an epidemic of this new moronism.

 

From www.newscorpse.com

 

Alas, it seems that the same infection has taken hold in the United States too.  For today is when American voters go to the polls to elect the 45th president of the USA.  The choice ought to be simple.  They must decide between Hillary Clinton, an uninspiring, uncharismatic technocrat who carries too much political baggage for comfort, but who has plenty of government experience and who at least isn’t mad; and one Donald John Trump.

 

That’s the billionaire Donald Trump who’s suffered six bankruptcies (so far) in his hotel and casino businesses; who believes Mexicans to be rapists; who wants to ban Muslims from the USA; who’s endorsed by the Ku Klux Klan; who likes to grab women by the pussy; who dismisses climate change as a hoax; who’s flattened the environmentally-precious Balmedie Beach in Aberdeenshire in order to build a golf course that he promised would employ 6000 people (but by 2016 had employed only 200); who established an alleged educational institution that violated New York State law by calling itself a ‘university’; who managed to wangle his way out of paying taxes by claiming a loss of 916 million dollars in 1995; who’s hinted that gun-owners ought to shoot Clinton; who’s promised to lock Clinton up if he wins; who’s refused to accept the result if he loses; who has a man-crush on Vladimir Putin; who’s wondered aloud what the point is of having nuclear weapons if you can’t use them.

 

Donald Trump is a garrulous gob-shite, a bigoted bell-end, a maggoty skidmark on the boxer shorts of American politics.  Oh, and his suntan looks like radioactive slurry.  And his hairdo’s so hideous it may as well be the pubes of Satan.

 

Clinton or Trump?  It should be a no-brainer.  However, Trump is in with a shout of winning the presidency – a 35% probability according to polling supremo Nate Silver – which suggests that an awful lot of Americans have developed ‘no-brain syndrome’.

 

Will the new moronism that’s afflicted Britain strike again?  I guess this time tomorrow we’ll know.

 

© 20th Century Fox

 

We’ve been Trumped

 

I haven’t posted anything on Blood and Porridge for a while.  Partly this is because I’ve been on holiday.  And partly it’s because I’m still trying to get my head around the result of the referendum on the United Kingdom’s membership of the European Union.  In the referendum, held on June 23rd, a majority voted to leave the EU.  Hence, ‘Brexit’ has been instigated.

 

Brexit was achieved by an unholy alliance of buffoonish but ruthless Conservatives, i.e. Boris Johnson, boorish but ruthless Ukippers, i.e. Nigel Farage, and a quartet of millionaire / billionaire newspaper magnates whose main purpose in life is to avoid paying tax, i.e. Rupert Murdoch, Lord Rothermere, Richard Desmond and the Barclay Brothers.  (All right, that’s actually a quintet).  Channelling the hatred and pig-ignorance of Britain’s far-right organisations like the English Defence League and the British National Party, this lot managed to convince enough voters in the less well-off parts of England and Wales that their current financial and social insecurities weren’t caused by the winner-takes-all market forces that’ve been increasingly out-of-control since the days of Margaret Thatcher, but were caused by that reliable old scapegoat, Johnny Foreigner.

 

Untrustworthy Johnny Foreigner, as Boris, Nigel and co. would have you believe, comes in two guises.  One guise is those meddling bureaucrats of the EU that Britain’s right-wing press loves to wail about (though funnily enough, over the years, they’ve kept shtum about all the EU subsidies pouring into the parts of England and Wales who’ve just voted to quit).  The other guise is those beastly immigrants, ‘coming over here and taking our jobs’.

 

I’m afraid those folk who voted ‘leave’ in order to put an end to immigration are in for a nasty shock, very, very soon.  Because the only way you can abolish immigration is by abolishing capitalism, which I assume isn’t on the cards yet in the UK.

 

Since then, of course, the knives have been out as the instigators of Brexit have tried to get into pole position for leadership of the Conservative Party and the keys of Number 10, Downing Street.  Johnson, who by opting to spearhead the ‘leave’ campaign had already stabbed his supposed friends David Cameron and George Osborne in the backs, was in turn stabbed by his weasel-faced partner in crime, Michael Gove, who very publicly questioned Johnson’s abilities and announced he was standing for the leadership himself.  But it looks increasingly like Gove’s leadership bid will be squashed by the gimlet-eyed Theresa May, who’s cannily kept herself aloof from the political dogfighting and bloodletting until now.  I suppose it’s indicative of the culture gap that’s opened up between Britain and the rest of Europe that the best thing the British newspapers could find to compare this mayhem to was Game of Thrones; whereas the equivalent newspapers in continental Europe likened it to Shakespeare.

 

Still, there was at least one good consequence of the Brexit fiasco.  Amid the massive hee-haw going on during the day after the vote, June 24th, the potential-next-president-of-the-USA Donald Trump flew into Scotland to officially open his new golf course at Turnberry in Ayrshire.  And guess what?  Hardly anybody noticed.  The media’s attention was elsewhere.  Brexit left ‘the Donald’ gasping for the oxygen of publicity, probably for the first time ever.

 

Actually, Blood and Porridge can reveal something that the media failed to pick up at all.  On the evening of June 24th, after opening his new golf course in Ayrshire, Donald Trump was big-hearted enough to travel across to my Scottish hometown of Peebles; where, as part of the town’s annual summer Beltane Festival, he kindly offered to lead a Friday-evening parade of floats and fancy dress.

 

What’s that?  You don’t believe me?  Well, here’s some hard photographic evidence.  Yes, it’s Donald Trump leading the Peebles Beltane parade and possibly making the first factually-correct statement of his presidential campaign so far.

 

 

There were two people leading the Beltane parade, by the way.  The other person was Boris Johnson.  Well, he has a lot more free time on his hands now.

 

 

What America could have been

 

From www.freephoto.com

 

Is there anything more repulsive in the universe – this universe or any other universe – at the moment than Donald Trump, the blustering, pea-brained, racist, Balmedie Beach-mutilating, four-times-bankrupt and hideously-haired frontrunner in the current race to be Republican nominee for the President of the United States?

 

Well, yes.  There is.

 

Just as the most contemptible kid at school wasn’t the psychopathic bully who went around beating the shit out of everyone, but the lesser, beta-male thugs who stayed out of his way but then tried to emulate him by beating up his victims again when he wasn’t around, so Jeb Bush, one of Trump’s competitors in the Republican-nomination race, is deserving of even more disdain than Trump is.  For if there’s one thing worse than a big-mouthed arse like Trump, it’s a chump who believes that Trump’s toxic qualities are something to aspire to.

 

Three days ago, Bush – the brother of hapless ex-president George W. and a candidate who earned only 7% in the latest Republican-nomination polls for the states of North and South Carolina (http://www.publicpolicypolling.com/main/jeb-bush/) – tried to attract support by proving that he’s as macho and not-to-be-messed-with a dude as he imagines Trump to be.  With Trump recently vowing to abolish all gun-free zones in America, including schools, and to undo any gun-control legislation that might be enacted by President Obama, Bush thought he would bolster his failing campaign by out-gunning the gun-insane Trump.

 

So he posted on Twitter a picture of his brand new handgun with the name Gov. Jeb Bush stencilled along its barrel.  Accompanying the picture was a single word: America.  And that, according to Jeb, is the thing that America and being American are all about.  A gun.

 

From www.kotaku.com 

 

Once I’d got past the tsunami of contempt I felt at Bush for assuming that he’d impress Americans – and in the wider regions of the Twitter-sphere, the rest of humanity – with this equation that America equals tools for killing and maiming people, I started to feel sad.  Because if he’d wanted to send a message about America that was actually worthy of America, there were a vast array of people and things he could have tweeted a picture of.

 

Here are just a very few possible examples of what Jeb Bush’s ‘America’ tweet could have been.

 

Neil Armstrong.  Sergeant Bilko.  Ben & Jerry’s ice cream.  Ray Bradbury.  James Brown.  Rachel Carson.  Johnny Cash.  The cell phone.  Raymond Chandler.  Cheers.  The Chrysler Building.  The Civil Rights Act.  The Cohen Brothers.  The Declaration of Independence.  Walt Disney.  Amelia Earhart.  Thomas Edison.  The electric guitar.  Elvis.  F. Scott Fitzgerald.  Benjamin Franklin.  The Golden Gate Bridge.  The Harley Davidson motorcycle.   Bill Hicks.  John Lee Hooker.  The Hoover Dam.  Edward Hopper.  Edwin Hubble and the Hubble Telescope.  The Internet.  Jim Jarmusch.  Martin Luther King.  Harper Lee.  Stan Lee.  Ursula K. Le Guin.  The light bulb.  Abraham Lincoln and the Emancipation Proclamation.  Frank Lloyd Wright.  David Lynch.  The Marshall Plan.  The Marx Brothers.  The Moog synthesiser.  Mount Rushmore.  John Muir.  NASA.  Georgia O’Keeffe.  The Panama Canal.  Gram Parsons.  Edgar Allan Poe.  Jackson Pollock.  Franklin D. Roosevelt and the New Deal.  Martin Scorsese.  Nina Simone.  South Park.  Harriet Beecher Stowe.  True Detective.  Mark Twain.  Trans-oceanic cable communication.  Andy Warhol and the Velvet Underground.  Orson Welles.  Warner Brothers cartoons.  The Wright Brothers.  The Wurlitzer jukebox.  And ZZ Top.

 

But no.  Jeb Bush stuck a picture of a gun on his tweet because to him that’s the essence of America.  What a dumbshit.