Have Some Tea. Aka Doom & Gloom in the UK. The kindly Cockney Care Bear is offering tea & sympathy to a poor refugee from the End-Days DisUnited Kingdom. The poor expat is severely traumatized by a recent encounter with the Clown-In-Chief and some of his most sinister and/or moronic stooges, sicari and axe-men (and women!). We wish him a speedy recovery and an easier life in his new sanctuary.
Scandal2. Language matters! For the Nth time: corrupt the language = corrupt the mind = corrupt the behaviours. Today it’s “probably” or “almost certainly”, tomorrow will be “your neighbour is a controversial (= evil), dangerous witch/terrorist” and out will come the torches and the pitchforks and the public lynchings. And that nice person next door, who normally would never hurt a fly, will be carried away by the tide of rabies and indulge in such abhorrent actions that would frighten the very Great Old Ones our of their dogmatic slumbers.
But it’s no good going on like this. The Holy Guardian (or it twin sister the Daily Mail, or the Sacred New York Times) and the BBC, or the rest of the whorish indentured MSM will propagate this kind of piffle and most people will believe it because…well, they are “prestigious” and “balanced” and “impartial” and they always check their facts (via the highly reputable Bellingcat, of course) and they always, always tell the truth, don’t they?
Have a spiffing week. Soon it might not be possible to have one.
Identikit2. In these ghastly days of All-Pervading Hysteria and Heightened Sensibilities everyone seems to be running around like headless chickens, and falling over themselves to (pretend to) apologize for something, or flogging sundry dead horses. Or defining themselves -against what is never very clear.
So, for once, as an exception to my excellent guiding principle of “Never Join a Trendy Trend, Never Be Charlie”, I’ve decided to join in the fun & games and I have demarcated myself. The inspiration was sent to me by the Mother of Bumba in the middle of the night a few days ago and solidified after a recent conversation with my little brother, for whom this here doodle is, as he’s the only one who’ll get the double in-joke without even breaking sweat.
My LB tells me that along with the taxonomy I also must produce a Mission Statement, a Plan of Action and possibly a mind-catching slogan or two. I’ll try and accommodate.
The Designation, Mission Statement, Action Plan and Catchy Slogan are all in Spanish because is the only language that makes sense in this context. So, for the benefit of the kind half dozen people who follow my graphic rant-o-meter, I have produced some very fast & loose translations.
Definition: Unidad de desatino inasequible al escarmiento. (Unity of nonsense impervious to reprimand))
Mission Statement: Antes muerta! Pur juder. (Sooner dead. Because.)
Plan of Action (temporary & subject to availability): Que les den morcilla! (Let them eat croissants.)
Catchy slogan No. 33½: Absolutamente TODAS las vidas importan –meno las de Henry Kissinger, Mike Pompeo, Dominic Cummings, Steve Bannon y calaña de este tipo. (Absolutely ALL lives matter –except Henry Kissinger’s, Mike Pompeo’s, Dominic Cummings’s, Steve Bannon’s and scum of that ilk.)
Have a lovely week
Red Anteater. Aka Brief Encounter VII. For “Auntie” Fran. An unexpected stardust blizzard hits the Not-So-Bad-Lands and causes an abnormal meeting of creatures: the Red Badger, tutelary spirit of the groves, meets an absconded giant anteater. Much puzzlement, initial confusion and eventually spontaneous merrymaking ensues. Tea and coffee are dispensed by the (invisible) dryads and all is fluffy. Have a lovely weekend. And this link is also for Auntie:
Air Farce One. For my good mate don Ricardo Hinks, alias the Professor, who send me the revealing link in the first place. Look! Even old Mother Chaos is in extra turmoil and Yog-Sothoth is alarmed by such psychopathic display of idiocy. Ay que dolor!… 🙂
The link that originated this here doodle:
And here’s a nice wee link to more of what’s coming:
Peaks & Troughs. Here you go. Have a lovely Solstice even if there’s little cause for celebration. I’m sure we can fin something to make whoopy about. And here’s a wee bit of apocalyptic gossip to make you smile: The world is due to end tomorrow, June21st. Apparently the readers of the Maya prophecy read the calendars (which one I’m not sure) and got it all wrong for 2012, so the End Is Nigher that we thought. Have fun!
Pre-Solstice 2020. Dig out the teddy bears! Pile up the lemon ice cream! Sharpen your dentures! Dark times are coming and the Tories are not going anywhere any time soon -which is why dark times are coming. Still, resistance is not futile. Keep chipping at the boulder. Solstice card proper soon come. Hugs and rockets.
The Great Hong Kong Swindle. Here are the threatened Squiggles with a home truth or two, poor darlings. Actually, it is 1,500.000 citizens. But really it doesn’t matter. One million or one, he has no intention of granting a single solitary passport to nobody nohow. It’s just another of those pathetic exercises in that China-Bashing I predicted right at the start of this pantomime pandemic caper; a direct command from the Masters of The Universe’s own Meat Puppets. Because that’s what globalization is, innit? Monkey see, monkey do. What fun…:-(
The whole aim of practical politics is to keep the populace alarmed (and hence clamorous to be led to safety) by menacing it with an endless series of hobgoblins, all of them imaginary.
Mazed Snakes. I wanted to do something quite different. Perhaps a nice, nasty & incisive, finely tuned ad hominem attack –plenty to choose, as usual. But this came out instead. More like a laconic, generalized ad humanitas barb. Well, I gave up the illusion that I am in control of my creatures a long time ago. They are in charge. I don’t make them, they make me. Also, there is something about using the two Android Adobes (Photoshop Sketch and Draw) that seems to beget snakes (and squiggles). So here they are, a small clutch of profoundly shocked snakes commenting on the general state of things. I’ve got a lovely bunch of squiggles in the backburner. Sooooon come. Meanwhile, have a splendid week and un po’ di mu.
Snub Fish. aka Deep Sea Tittle Tattle II. By all means applaud then, laud them, call them heroes, ask people to paint soppy, celebratory rainbows and donate £5 to the same NHS your and all administrations ever since Tony Blair’s PFIs* have been gutting. Please do. Indulge yourself in a bit of feel-good cant. As long as come pragmatic crunch time you stab them in the back. And may the next plague take you.
So say the Snub Fish. And if they say so, I say so, too.
Also, to reinforce the message, have a link to one of Martin Rawson’s latest:
And one from a nicely miffed NHS doctor, fed up to the back teeth with all this clappity-clappity-clap:
See, even the Guardian has its uses, as I’ve acknowledged before. 🙂
* With the Telegraph’s blessing: