Drowning by wankers

BBC News: “The UK has said it will not support future search and rescue operations to prevent migrants drowning in the Mediterranean.”

International Business Times: “Britain will not support future EU search and rescue operations to help save migrants from drowning in the Mediterranean Sea as doing so only “encourages” others to seek refuge by crossing dangerous seas.”

The Age: “Baroness Anelay said the UK would not support a new program of search and rescue missions in the Mediterranean, saying they encouraged refugees to risk taking to sea.”

The Guardian: “The Home Office has defended its decision to end British support for search-and-rescue operations for migrants in danger of drowning in the Mediterranean, after criticism that it marked an ethical nadir for Britain.”

Now I’m not racist, but it seems to me that deliberately withdrawing support for an operation the sole purpose of which is to stop desperate, living, breathing human beings from drowning, abandoned, in a vast body of water because you think rescuing them from death encourages them to leave behind their homes, family, friends and possessions, and because you think killing people bureaucratically is somehow more acceptable than personally holding them underwater until they stop struggling, and being able somehow to find the will to defend that decision, is a little bit racist, and more or less exposes you as the sort of government that should be drowned wholesale in a bottomless barrel of cold salty piss by a group comprised of displaced individuals who have no idea of the hardships involved in signing a piece of paper that condemns hundreds of forlorn elected representatives to a watery grave.

Ednas up 2: the streets

“Oo Edna, what about that nice young singer eh he seemed like such a nice young man with his twinkly smile and his hips but wasn’t it funny how he never married and those glasses he wore and oo Edna he’s religious too and you know what they’re like but oo I do like that nice young song of his that he sang about congratulating a bus.”

Ednas: extreme edition

“Oo Edna have you seen how everyone’s an extremist nowadays my Bert said he’d been radicalised by my custard last night and then he flew to Syria and suicide-bombed a custard factory I mean no-one’s safe are they I heard Edna’s sister Edna’s brother’s aunt Edna went and shot 14 people in a museum because she thought it was a dangerous art movement of course I blame that nice Tony Blair now if you’ll excuse me Edna I’ve got to go and suicide bomb the post office.”

A good day to bury bad news

While the thieving antics of brass-necked money-hugger Maria Miller MP have dominated the news the government has used the story as cover to quietly announce that wasps will no longer be free at the point of delivery. This means that anyone who sees, interacts or engages with a wasp must pay a charge to one of the thousands of wasp enforcement officers who will be employed to weed out so-called “wasp scroungers”.

In the 19th century wasps were regarded as a luxury available only to the wealthy, but in 1904 Liberal MP Herbert Henry Asquith proposed a radical change in wasp policy that would make wasps available to all. “Wasps,” he said in a Commons speech on May the 6th of that year, “Are not just playthings for the well-off. Every man, woman and child in this country should have access to free wasps, whether they like it or not.”

It is estimated that the coalition government will make £34.5 million per year from the Wasp Tax, either in legitimate charges or in fines for non-payment. Non-payers could also face up to three months in prison.

To sign an online petition calling for the repeal of the Wasp Tax, sign the online petition at http://www.nobodygivesafuckingfuckaboutonlinepetitions.gov.uk/.

Prime Minister of Mercy, Chapter 1

In his office at 10 Downing Street, a naked and brooding David Cameron strapped a hunting knife to his thigh and applied camouflage make-up to his entire body. If those cowardly MPs wouldn’t help Syria, he thought, he’d just have to do it himself.

“Not so fast, Cam old friend,” the booming note of a familiar voice broke the pregnant silence.

Cameron looked up to see Nigel Farage standing at the door to his office. He was naked too, and was resting his camouflaged arms on the biggest machine gun the Prime Minister had ever seen.

“If you’re going to do what I think you’re going to do,” Farage said, a smile playing across his manly lips, “You’re going to need a wing man.”

Cameron’s expression was grave. “You know this is a one way trip, right?” he said.

Farage smirked. “I always buy a return ticket,” he said. “Just in case.”

The two men strode out of Cameron’s office and, as they made their way down the corridor and towards the most dangerous mission of their lives, naked, heavily armed and camouflaged men appeared from every doorway. Clegg. Gove. Osborne. Hague. Johnson. Hammond. Clarke. Fox. Hunt. May. Cable. Duncan Smith.

“Well now,” Cameron quipped through clenched teeth as he kicked open the iconic Downing Street front door and marched into the morning sunlight. “It looks like we’re putting the band back together.”

Syria: why my opinion is important

As a person with a light but pretty decent grasp on what is happening in Syria, I have become compelled over the course of this morning to voice my thoughts to the widest number of people who aren’t really all that interested. Welcome.

It’s safe to say that things in Syria aren’t good. Indeed, it could easily be said that things are quite bad but, for almost 15 minutes now I have given the problem some thought, and I believe I have come up with, in my opinion, an ingenious solution.

A civil war is never black-and-white and there are, in my opinion, upwards of four shades of grey muddying this whole darned Syrian kerfuffle, which is more than the average person could possibly grasp. But grasped it I have, and my idea to peacefully resolve this crisis is, in my opinion, achingly simple.

If you ask me – and no-one has yet – what Syria lacks and has lacked for some time is a decent pop-up artisan boulangerie. Anyone who knows me knows my core belief: that nothing soothes the soul like a wholewheat croissant slathered in organic alpaca butter, and I believe if the so-called, in my opinion, United Nations was to air-drop a few dozen bio-degradable kiosks laden with hand-crafted breads and pastries into the heart of the fighting everyone, in my opinion, would lay down their weapons and be chowing down on crusty stone-baked yam-bread rolls (with a filling of their choice) and sipping responsibly sourced fair-trade nettle juice by sundown.

This might, in my opinion, be a hard pill for the governments and the committees and the councils and the “experts” of the world to swallow but, in a tricky political hot potato like this, our leaders need to use their loaf (ha!), step carefully outside the recyclable box and into, in my opinion, fresh-baked bliss.

Guns For Buns. Worth thinking about.