Monday 28 October 2013

tescop mobile casts blacks, irish, and yappy border-collie-schnauzers
as negative rôle-models



the television ads grimly make their point, in a coldly dictatorial don't-you-dare-me dispassionate fashion, reprovingly repressing the punter's right to disrespect the chose-us-or-else phone-package product currently being pushed by our premier purveyor of mercantile correctness, but the posters and photo-stills, show-bizarrely snapped for this take-no-prisoners neurotic-colonialist campaign, are just depressingly drab, to a degree which is devoid of any compelling human connectivity, especially this one, that is reminiscent, in its morosely melodramatic mood, of the no ifs, no buts benefit-fraud warnings, or perhaps those old-style drives to deter tube-fare-dodging where the isolated individual is detected and depicted in the clinical grey light-beam of cinéma vérité virtuousness.

reproachfully inhibiting potential customers' freedom of expression whilst denying the strategically selected star-performers an opportunity to shine-up their cv with effortlessly effusive verbal wit, would seem to be sending out completely the wrong message for a communications company (which is after all aiming buzby-like to promote profitable banter along their pay-lines), and it also has the professionally distasteful side-effect of somehow lacing the long-term memory with the unhappy image of a frustrated or failed comic.

indeed, this advertizement's atmosphere is so grim 'n gritty when observed in bare newsprint, that i simply can't avoid the gnawing afro-sensitive thought that there might have been a definite, deliberate and devious attempt by the w an' k agency to promote a culture of negative socio-racial stereotyping.

of course, i don't for one thousandth of a nano-moment blame this communo-ethnic betrayal on gina lashaway, ed airstack or dear old ronnie corgiette, who in their blithe political naïveté have all been well exploited here and comprehensively taken-in (unlike those termed 'immigrants' in this country, who from the 1950s and 60s to the present day have habitually been refused private accommodation by prejudiced scum-landlords on the grounds of skin-colour or national origin alone), yet obviously, no matter how accomplished an artist, the nightmare of being haunted by the curse of unimaginative and mediocre commercial production values is the eternal risk taken by a comedian when being remunerated for performing other people's dodgy material, as opposed to working-up his own scripts on the hazardous trail of trial and error, or even remunerating a copy-writer for quality lines at the correct market-price.

however, quite frankly, i consider it a damnable disgrace that, ranking alongside the randy romford rascal as one of britain's top-rated contemporary comedy acts, ms grievous lashearache, having gigged her friggin' arse off and made it bloody big-time over in the states, has been condescendingly palmed-off with such a fucking naf ad-spot - so let's hope, for her and her colleagues' sakes, that the mobile merchandise in question now lives up to the billing...

...because let's face facts, there's not much good publicity to be gained from associating with tescops otherwise - it's not as if this business, which enjoys the forced labour of unemployed jobseekers for free, is known as a burning beacon of charity...

...i mean-to-say, what's the chance of an establishment-approved outfit like w an' k or tescops (the firm which volunteered itself as a public immigration-surveillance department) dipping into the billions they've reaped in profits to fund a community information campaign against racial discrimination, hey?  would you join a phone-network which was run by a management once more-than-willing to monitor their customers on behalf of the government?

nevertheless, in conclusion, i must confess that there are already several alternative analyses doing the rounds which tend to contradict my afore-mentioned supposition that this multi-national operator indulged in cynical manipulation of multi-culturalism - the most compelling theory being that mega euro-mobster, mad ronnie kickbutt, was actually the gangster initially responsible for feeding the notorious reputation-damaging horsebeef into the retail-supply-chain earlier this year, and then helpfully popped-up to tender tescops his magic "mob-a-job" brand-relaunder-and-relaunch-service, although only on the strict condition that both his afro-caribbean east-end-moll and his long-haired gay-lover got some gratuitous greasy graft from the deal too.

clearly, i couldn't possibly comment.


Sunday 13 October 2013

ed shows di true colour of his knickers



this week's shadow-cabinet reshuffle shows that ed rubberband, the prodigal neo-colonialist puppet, has been mercilessly zapped back into the indoctrinated line of new-weird-odour mercenaries by his political handler, 'big' bro dave, who on behalf of the cia operates the labour party leader from the other side of north atlantic geo-political rift...

...for there was no way in the enwhitened and enamelled world of western democracy that a black woman, holding a seat in a british opposition shadow-cabinet, could possibly help instigate a lightening left-wing rebellion against the bastard blood-lusting proposals for a us war of aggression in the middle-east, make consequential international willies of the predator and vice-predator of the undead states of america, and in the process upset the vampire-in-waiting capillary clinton's carefully laid plans for an economically face-saving apocalypse, yet still hope to hang on to her racially-profiled frontline job...

...naturally, with a token afro-caribbean and a token asian already squatting proudly in the inner-circle of labour party chiefs, diane abbott was not only considered out of order politically and out of favour personally, but also above quota ethnically...

...indeed, although not great in physical stature, the former shadow health minister's ungraciously-engineered dismissal will leave a big gap on the opposition frontbench in parliament which will be filled by much slighter ladies, with far prettier cia-compatible politics, who will possess neither the experience, muscle, nor minds broad enough to force their leader into a corner of conscience and exercize him ethically unto the point where he might once more feel moved to face down the assembled forces of evil as they seek to scam quasi-legislative approval for the unjustified unleashing of unending unlawful war...

...we won't ever again be seeing a labour shadow-minister dementedly jumping up and down outside the prime minister's official residence in protest at our country's participation in illegal military aggression against foreign powers - the miliband cabinet's complacently compliant now...

...next time around, when the witch obama and his coven decide to conjure-up a conflagration of carnage to cap all cruel conflicts, the big political activist with the big mouth, from the small, so-called 'unimportant' constituency of hackney north and stoke newington, will not be there to bend ed the unred by his ear, whisper some sweet common-sense somethings into it, and let him hear the anti-war message passed down the gripevine by the unminted millions to whom morality matters...

...and who's now going to remind mr milibrit about the impending dangers of using arse-ignorant immigration policy to fluff-up the racist vote and frig-off fans of fascism...?  who's going to remind him that immigration restriction, the cia's favourite tool of torture against those born on the wrong side of the earth, leads to two-speed international socialism, a passport to poverty for the underprivileged exploited billions, and brown bodies rotting and rocking away at the bottom of our trench-trap oceans, swaying unconcerned in the eternal watery hammocks of their holed-dreams, after the boat-babies' deluded bids for some place a bit better...floundered...?  and who's going to remind him that whilst watchtower europe allows certain slaves entry to service the market, it calculatingly jettisons others to indemnify its social welfare program and preserve our state of lawful ignorance...regarding the global trade in humanity...?

...yes, when it comes to questions of race, mr miliband will always put his own first, because otherwise he knows he will receive a firm but frosty phone-call from the family - as he no doubt did before chucking diane overboard, along with the votes of many non-mainstream minorities, the ideological left, and any remaining chance of preventing his party from splitting asunder before the next general election...

...really, it seems such a dictatorial disgrace for this wet young woolly-brained whippersnapper to so disrespectfully ram a mute down the throat of such a senior advisor...

...but whilst there won't be any claim lodged for either race or age discrimination...

...the leader of the labour party will be held to account for his selfish actions...

...at the public polls.


Tuesday 8 October 2013

the curious incident of the dork who didn't budge at the right time



inexplicably, bodge-it-man iain duncan smith, the bungling blue-meanister who has already recklessly blown millions on his notorious universal haircut (projected date for complete super-smooth roll-back: 2017), retains his precarious position in dave clingon's government as the most hated man in britain - despised indeed by broad cross-sections of benefit-claimants, working-classes, people with disabilities, ethnic minorities, and grass-roots conservatives alike...

...incredibly, even some high-ranking colleagues in cabinet hate the cunt...

...coz he always claims he's got some-shit in the pipeline, but then the system gets blocked, and he can't budge-it...

...so with a record of career-failure as long as his cobbled-together cock-up of a cv (contrived version), why have captain skid's mortal enemies, the bounty-hunting crew of fair-weather frigate, miliband's revenge, not yet handed this chronically constipated cabinet-minister the dreaded 'back-spot'...? (a largely ceremonial parliamentary procedure, which is traditionally performed by frantically digging-up the requisite degree of ritual dirt to despatch the accursed-one forthwith to a mossy park-bench in the bleak backwoods of bucks)

...and the answer to this ostensibly unfathomable parliamentary mystery is of course that captain plebwash is doing more damage to the conservative-government whilst stationed at the helm of his own morally and systemically misfiring departmental-destroyer than the shampooed shadow-boxers in the lack-labour opposition ever could hope to...

...nice work dave.


Friday 4 October 2013

trial by template



there's a funny squiggly little shape somebody once drew on a map which some people call "britain",

some people love it, some people hate it,

but millions of people who live in the funny squiggly little shape don't even believe it exists, and believe instead that they live in different-shaped funny squiggly little things with differently-spelt funny squiggly little names,

and then again, many others believe they don't live in a funny squiggly-shaped little thing at all, nor do they have any emotional feelings for it, because it's an abstract and arbitrary political construct which only has real significance for those people who believe it exists because they believe they rule it and for those other people who believe it exists but don't themselves believe they rule it because they give money to the people they do believe rule it;

ed, dave, nick and nige believe it exists because they believe they rule it and will get money from other people who don't themselves believe they rule it,

but obviously if those other people didn't believe ed ruled it and ed didn't believe he would get money from them, then ed wouldn't believe he ruled it and wouldn't have to believe it existed,

and so ed wouldn't have to defend his dad's name when other people who believe it does exist accuse his dad of hating it because ed would simply submit that he could not believe his dad to have hated something which he himself didn't actually believe to exist,

and which in any case, being a good marxist, ed's dad knew never fucking well existed in the first place,

although naturally i mention this last point notwithstanding the remote theoretical possibility that he may have had, on occasion, good, just and reasonable cause,

to cuss it off really rotten like.


Wednesday 2 October 2013

tescrow: the company with a possum in the tank



in chief-wally cameron's grand british massage-parlour of opportunity, the socially-sensible saintsbury's have opted to decline the government's free-gift of financially-forced-labour, rail-roaded from the job-camps of the unemployed, whilst in contrast, horse-traders tesconscripts have rushed-in to fill their inhumanely resourced boutiques from the disenfranchised ranks of press-ganged claimant-crews, shackled by circumstance of regressive elitist economics to benefit-workfare scams...

...and well, credit where credit's due, i suppose...

...because quarter-on-quarter, smart-thinking sensbury's profits are up, yet over a comparable period, tricky-tacky thicko's earnings are now slumbering...

...it seems that's the price you pay these-days for operating as a 'charitable' community-centric concern...

...and for those job-seekers not fortunate enough to be chosen to work identical shop-hours for unequal amounts of individually-assessed employment and housing benefits, there's the once-in-a-lifetime chance to get a taste of hypothetical-money doing a real job - when iain duncan smith miraculously recreates the genuine work-experience right there in the jobcentre, or a not-for-profit company which produces sweet fanny except big salaries for its fat batch of directors...

...yeah, really...

...billions of pounds are going to be splashed on simulating 'the real thing' in the hot-house industrial environment of politically-controlled public offices...

...except obviously, as one of the lucky-millions, you won't ever be sacked, get promoted, earn a bit extra by grafting on overtime, gain the emotional satisfaction of creating wealth with which to feed you or your family, learn handy transferable skills, or produce anything of any intrinsic utilitarian or monetary value whatsoever...

...no matter how much official cock you copiously successfully suck...

...but at least the obsessively moral supervision will keep you safe from accessing the incalculably evil and invisible realm of the mystical and unethical black-market economy, where you might just earn a few bob on-top of your state-allowance for tidying up some old granny's back-garden...

...moreover you'll trudge home each evening, dog-tired after a hard day's work, deliriously happy however in the knowledge that, like the billionaire businessmen of britain, you'll be taxed bugger-all...

...and then of course there will be the added bonus of doing something conscientious which contributes to the construction of a fairer, more equal and just society...

...such as:

  • painting parliament blue...and then maybe orange, or purple and yellow according to general preference

  • painting nuclear power-stations green

  • painting black people white and white people black...whilst offering mixed-race citizens and asians the choice of either colour-scheme

  • painting wind-turbines khaki-'n-camouflage to give them the enhanced ecologically-pleasing appearance of giant whirring metallic trees

  • and painting all military personnel, plus their equipment, weapons, trucks and tanks, a pretty shade of pink...as a prelude to exporting this graphic concept-industry to the united states in the form of an all-inclusive designer make-over-service for marines...

...oh what a wonderful world this will be...