October 22, 2005

Tory Sudoku: the Winter Ashes

The Tory leadership contest is making the usually gloomy transition from autumn to winter almost as enjoyable as the English cricket team made the summer: when somebody said the Tory contest provided a welcome break from Sudoku, they hit the nail on the head.

One might have expected the fun to have worn a little thin after the innumerable contests that have lit up the years since the bleak gloom of the egregious Thatcher eighties, but those old battles of bruised egos and blessed fools have established an entertaining syndrome that gains through repetition. We now know what’s coming, and we love it.

It was just soooo great when the only person who might have caused a ripple of concern among the New Labour politburo - bloated, unreconstructed, compromised, corrupted good ol’ (very ol’) Ken Clarke – got voted out at the first fence, just like he always had before, along with any other threats to the New Labour hegemony like poofy Portuguese Portillo or the magnificent chest-thumping Heseltine before him. Ken provided a louche winter echo to the brilliant but beaten Shane Warne of the summer.

Things got better yet as – half Flintoff and half Petersen - the altogether more cherce nowhere boy Cameron, D. came galloping into the lead on the wings of a conference speech made (gasp) without notes, succulently drizzled by a week of knockabout hard drugs denial. Blair, Brown et al, secretly ecstatic at being confronted by such a toffed-up, policy-bereft, back-story burdened, old Etonian hooray Charlie rich brat iconette of the Notting Hill Tory yardie set, played along famously by hamming up this classic Tory bullet in the foot as being a greater regime threat than the mountainous form of the abandoned Clarke.

Meanwhile emulating the summer catharsis of Australian hubris has been the spectacular reverse momentum downward plunge demonstrated by initial party darling David Davies – who no-one outside the ranks of the faithful had ever heard of before and has learnt nothing about since, except he’s got a broken nose and supposedly lived on a council estate. Being such an obvious loser at this stage should in the scheme of things qualify him as eventual winner, especially as the polls begin to show that – glittered up in manic media attention – the pre-pubescent Cameron might conceivably make some ground against the dour boredom of a Gordon Brown Old Labour non-revival. Anything like that and the young chap’s days will be over as quickly as you can say Iain Duncan Smith.

Unhampered by anything like a Goliath, we look forward to these two tussling Davids brightening the dismal days ahead as we segue into winter time. As for a viable opposition – who needs it?

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September 13, 2005

Jerusalem, England

Of the many good things made possible in the wake of England’s awesome and unequivocal thrashing of the whingeing Aussie poofters at the Oval, few would be more welcome than the adoption of William Blake’s Jerusalem as the National Anthem of a renascent England - an idea eloquently promoted by the deafening crowd throughout the five days of glory down in London SE11.

That credit for initiating the Jerusalem moment at the commencement of each day’s play should variously be claimed by such capitalist representatives of the dark Satanic mills as nPower, sponsors of this Ashes series, and some hack on the appalling Brit rag the Daily Mail, and endorsed by such paid-up sons of the soil as Billy Bragg, shows the solid cross-platform support the song is getting.

Anyone who has ever tried to sing (or be forced to listen to) God Save the Queen at a moment of high adrenaline patriotism will know just how badly England needs an anthem they can get behind (besides which GSTQ is the UK/British National Anthem, not specifically English at all).

With the London Olympics on the distant horizon, England’s sorry football team desperately needing to justify Sven’s salary (and also qualify for the World Cup if possible), and being already left behind by the Welsh and Scots in this department, NOW IS THE TIME to make sure Blake’s great hymnn for England gets on to the National song sheet.

The way the Oval crowd got behind belting out ‘our clouded hills’ and ‘O clouds unfold’ when the country prayed for bad light and a draw (both of which we got BTW) should convince anyone half sensible that Jerusalem has got everything necessary for the English psyche. And having a real anthem to mark the way ahead would give due respect to Michael, Freddie, KP and all for what they did (and not just for Woodworm bats either)- during this historic summer when England met Shane Warne.

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August 7, 2005

England Win!

With the most exciing finish to a test match ever, England beat the Aussies by 2 runs.

Flintoff, Pietersen, Harmison all amazing, Vaughan a great captain (pity about the batting) and even Geraint Butterfingers Jones getting that final tensest-ever wicket, this somehow makes it all worth it. Just seeing Ponting’s face at the end…

Now its Old Trafford on Thursday, and the chance of greatness beckons….its been a long long time.

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August 3, 2005

Another Empire Pay Back?

Ageing hippie Christopher Hitchins talks good sense on Fox News about English leniency being partly to blame for recent Anglo-Muslim extremism. He interestingly mentions break up of British Empire and the Partition of India as a possibly deeper cause of (Pakistani) Islamist resentment than the similarly-aged and British-engineered creation of Israel. More organic food for thought in this exhausting period of English reassessment.

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July 24, 2005

Chavs Innit

Bits of the real England from the great Chavworld site:

jus ritin to let yall peeps no dat beein a chav ain’t all dat bad! i meen wen i walk down da street all da rudeboyz n widegirlz move 2 lemme froo, if day try n step up, ill just nok em spark out, innit!

Listen all you chav’s out there. Leighton Buzzard is the Chav capital of this world sittin on the famous market cross swigging 20/20 and wife beaters innit! we r all wearing burberry clothes from bovey market LOVE IT A !

Yes i’m a chav, but it seems that people make out that we’re stupid and illiterate when actually not all of us are. We do pick fights alot but only with people who deserve it, say if someone was staring at us for no reason (i can’t stand being stared at) we would say something like ‘what you lookin’ at?’ and if they started mouthing off then they would get a beating but if they left it at that then we would leave it.

I think chavs are great, coz i is one init! Theres nuffin wrong wiv burberry & S.I Novas are pure class. When i’m cruisin round the precinct all the other birds are well jealous cos they fink my choons are well bangin. My Lee rekons i am the fittest bird in school & none of the older girls can down Smifnoff ice like i can. I can drink 10 bottles & im only 15!

i is from wisbech an it fukin chav centraaaal!! Chavs rule! u is all sayin dat we is fick and all dis but we smash yo head in innit!

Chav jokes:

What do you call a Chav in a box?
Innit.
What do you call a Chav in a filing cabinet?
Sorted.
What do you call a Chav in a box with a lock on it?
Safe.
What do you call an Eskimo Chav?
Innuinnit.
What’s the first question at a Chav quiz night?
“What you lookin’ at?”

All ya peepz in2 dis chav stuf checkout chav forumz, mint innit?

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