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April, 2010:


So, for the last week of the campaign do we finally get to see the tories giving up on attracting guardian readers and being, well, tory? It’s about bleeding time too.


One of my regular reads is “Letters From a Tory” (it’s blogrolled). LFAT tends to write quite long, serious, well-reasoned stuff. It would appear though that election fever has taken LFAT to a new height of genius.

This is very funny. And I’m saying that despite not sharing LFAT’s view on iDave. Two thumbs up!

Meanwhile the madness seems to have spread as far north as Newcastle.

Yes, I think that sums up my feelings quite well. Whoever wins this farce we shall have to accept cock and a lot of bull.

They really do hate you

One of the problems is, they only talk amongst themselves. They no longer have a clue what the rest of us actually think, apart from what the polls and focus groups tell them.

The only surprise is that it came out in such a blatant way. New Labour hates the British and British culture to such an extent that they set out, under Blair and with malice aforethought, to smash it to smithereens, by pulling it apart internally and destroying any possibility of a unified, mutually identifying and cohesive society. And if you disagree with these hatemongering vandals? You get labelled a racist and a bigot.

New Labour, new hatemongering.

Thing is, you think Cleggy and that Cameron schmuck think any different? These people hate you, they despise you with every fibre of their being, and they want you to let them take control of your lives. Is this wise?

Gordon Brown is right and very wrong.

Yes, I would agree with Mr Brown that these sounded like the words of a bigot:

“All these Eastern Europeans what are coming in, where are they flocking from?”

Actually it sounds exasperatingly pig ignorant as well.

Brown ought to have ballsed it out. Mrs Duffy sounded like the voice of the Express. Instead Brown wimped out by issuing six apologies to the deranged harridan. And not only that but by apologising to her he tacitly bought the BNP agenda that everything would be hunky-dory if only we didn’t have these foreigners coming over here.

Labour are clearly terrified of losing the white working class vote to the BNP are they not? I reckon Nick Griffin poured himself a large one and had a belly laugh over this farce.

I don’t know whether that was an epic fail or Brown merely being yellow.

Don’t get me wrong here. Immigration is a topic we ought to debate but it is one like the prohibition of drugs which cannot seemingly be addressed within the public sphere in an even vaguely rational manner. Immigration has become toxic because it is so conflated with asylum, “diversity” and benefits and such like. I could go on all day about this but I will simply pose a question – why does this country (and many other countries) make it so hard for people who actually like us to come and live here?

The Script of the Tiger

Just about exactly 15 years ago today I sat my last exam at the University of Nottingham. I was on fire by then – wired on talent and the self-belief of youth. I only took what I needed. 20 Marlboro, a lighter, a mechanical pencil and 35cl of pre-frozen Smirnoff.

It was a fluids exam. As I walked out of my last undergraduate examination I knew I’d aced it. Not only aced it but spotted an error on the paper and pointed it out. On the way out of the hall I bumped into a lad from my tutor-group. He was similarly prepared so, whilst we chatted about the exam and the flawed question, he took a slug of my voddy and I toked on his pre-rolled spliff. We were high as kites and that had nothing to do with the substances. We were high on our own skills. Trust me – there is no high like taking on the entire Universe with a pencil and winning. There is this feeling where you no longer see the mathematics and the physics just comes to you. It’s dangerous because it can lead to thinking faster than you can write but the power and the glory of it is amazing.

Well, why am I a libertarian? I was always going to be one for I always desired understanding rather than power. I have no interest in control over others. But being able to understand compressible flow or Quantum Mechanics or Josiah Willard Gibbs’ Grand Cannonical Ensemble is a feeling of deep power without power if you see what I mean. It’s almost spiritual rather than temporal. It’s about a profound humility and a truly Promethean moment of understanding. Render unto Mandelson what is Mandelson’s and we’ll take the rest!

What compares… Sex has the same rush and I guess flying a fighter jet does too (the RAF turned me down because of my eyesight). Actually sex is very similar to doing physics. I mean sex with someone when you cease to be two seperate beings. I don’t mean a three minute scuttling of some skank over the bonnet of a Vauxhall Astra in Oldham. That’s like doing chemistry or something equally dull. I mean it gets the job done but it doesn’t really touch the infinite does it? If it’s a slag in Oldham it probably doesn’t even touch the sides.

Only one writer I know of really got it…

Then there occurred what I cannot forget nor communicate. There occurred a union with the divinity, with the universe (I do not know whether these words differ in meaning). Ecstasy does not repeat its symbols; God has been seen in a blazing light, in a sword or in the circles of a rose. I saw an exceedingly high Wheel, which was not before my eyes, nor behind me, nor to the sides, but every place at one time. That Wheel was made of water, but also of fire, and it was (although the edge could be seen) infinite. Interlinked, all things that are, were and shall be formed it, and I was one of the fibres of that total fabric and Pedro de Alvarado who tortured me was another. There lay revealed the causes and effects and it sufficed me to see that Wheel in order to understand it all, without end. O bliss of understanding, greater than the bliss of imagining or feeling. I saw the universe and I saw the intimate designs of the universe. I saw the origins narrated in the Book of the Common. I saw the mountains that rose out of the water, I saw the first men of wood, the cisterns that turned against the men, the dogs that ravaged their face. I saw the faceless god concealed behind the other gods. I saw infinite processes that formed one single felicity and, understanding all, I was able also to understand the script of the tiger.

Borges almost nails it there. But then Borges being Borges is just starting. “The script of the tiger” is the secret formula of the Universe in the pattern of spots on a jaguar. If said aloud it makes you both God and nothing. Which is of course the same thing. (Argentinian Spanish calls all big cats “tigers”).

Now the hammer falls on the nail…

May the mystery lettered on the tigers die with me. Whoever has seen the universe, whoever has beheld the fiery designs of the universe, cannot think in terms of one man, of that man’s trivial fortunes or misfortunes, though he be that very man. That man has been he and now matters no more to him. What is the life of that other to him, the nation of that other to him, if he, now, is no one? This is why I do not pronounce the formula, why, lying here in darkness, I let the days obliterate me.

Precisely. Nobody who has seen the supreme majesty of this staggering Universe, nobody who has gone out in the wee small hours to watch meteor storms or who knows a bra from a ket gives a flying one about controling others. For to those who know the script of the tiger temporal power is merely quaint. When you have the power to understand the Universe with only a pencil then what need is there for any other power? When you can wield the secret fire with an HB what use is a mere empire of dirt?

I marked that day with a white stone for I saw my aleph that day and that aleph was not me (or you!) – it just was.

- Quotes from “The God’s Script” by Jorge Luis Borges. Translated by L A Murillo.


That is “Nimrod” from Edward Elgar’s “Enigma Variations”. That is the Chicago Symphony Orchestra conducted by the Argentine born Jew of Russian extraction Daniel Barenboim. Nick Griffin, you can royally go fuck yourself. For nobody else will.

Oh, and isn’t Nimrod sort of dedicated to a German? And Nimrod himself was a Red Sea Pedestrian?

You utter twat-in-a-hat Griffin.

Nick Griffin

Last night I watched my first party election broadcast of the season and it was a stormer.

Yes, it was the BNP. You can watch it here. For I shall be flogged naked through the streets of Nuneaton with a bull’s pizzle before I embed that shite. It’s almost unfiskable.

The photo of Churchill, the opening with an effing air-raid siren, the inevitable Spitfire and the swelling Elgar in the background… God Almighty it was worse than I thought possible and my expectations for a BNP broadcast scuttle through abysmal trenches upon ragged claws.

Let’s look at some home truths. Brave British soldiers brought back from the ‘stan in pine… Does Mr Griffin appreciate quite how many of those soldiers are from the Commonwealth or how many of those are in fact black or brown. Come on Mr Griffin! What would you do with the Grenadan L/Cpl Johnson Beharry VC?

Beharry is the first recipient of the Victoria Cross since the posthumous awards to Lieutenant Colonel H. Jones and Sergeant Ian John McKay for service in the Falklands War in 1982. He is the first living recipient of the VC since Keith Payne and Rayene Stewart Simpson, both Australian, for actions in Vietnam in 1969, and the first living recipient of the VC in the British Army since Rambahadur Limbu, a Gurkha, in the Indonesia-Malaysia confrontation in 1965. He is one of only seven living recipients of the VC, and the youngest.

From Wikipedia. Seems our war heroes are sometimes a bit foreign doesn’t it?

Or Spitfires… How about this then

The Royal Air Force roll of honour for the Battle of Britain recognises 595 non-British pilots (out of 2,936) as flying at least one authorised operational sortie with an eligible unit of the RAF or Fleet Air Arm between 10 July and 31 October 1940. These included 145 Poles, 127 New Zealanders, 112 Canadians, 88 Czechoslovaks, 28 Belgians, 32 Australians, 25 South Africans, 13 French, 10 Irish, 7 Americans, and one each from Jamaica, the British Mandate of Palestine, and Southern Rhodesia.

Yes, it was our finest hour. But “our” is a little elastic is it not? Let us not talk falsely now for the hour is getting towards dinner but just Google ‘Adolph “Sailor” Malan’ (South African) or ‘Keith Park’ (New Zealand). The Battle of Britain was an epic macro-histrorical struggle for freedom and we were not alone. And that’s just aircrew. We imported a heck of a lot more ground-staff from the Commonwealth and Empire and they endured appalling conditions. Working round the clock to keep the fighters in trim is a tough call at the best of times. Doing that whilst being bombed is much tougher than anything either me or Mr Griffin has ever done. NB due to US neutrality I suspect quite a few of the “Canadians” were Americans and the number of Irish is low because distinguishing British and Irish nationality is tricky now and it must have been very tricky in 1940. Indeed the highest scoring “British” ace of all time was Edward “Mick” Mannock. The most remarkable thing about Mannock was not that he was Irish but that he was blind in one eye yet managed 80 kills. Nick Griffin is also blind in one eye but unlike Mannock I wouldn’t trust him to swat a fly.

I have this blog and I shall not sit idly when jackasses like Griffin tell lies about “our war heroes”. Yes they are our “heroes” but the “our” there is all of us or at least everyone of us who believes in freedom and finds those grainy images of Spitfires being yanked out yet again (the last time I got a leaflet from the BNP the Spitfire was clearly a Polish one – epic fail) to justify a quite frankly National Socialist agenda is an afront to the very souls of the free peoples of this world.

Griffin, you are a jerk. You are a profoundly arseholing virtuoso upon Shatner’s rusty bassoon. You are are in short an utter cunt and a twatulating fuckmonger of a twice buggerdly arse-radished turd-pole of an excuse for a set of monkey’s tits.

Oh, and Nicky G. If you want to debate the history of military aviation with someone who actually knows the subject then feel free to drop in any time.

And if any reader feels Griffin has a point they can fuck off too. I’d rather be French than see that turdulation of a fuck-poling twatter even claim to represent my country. French I tells ya! And we all know what they’re like. Or at least Nick Griffin does. He does you know. He knows all about Johnnie Foreigner so you don’t have to.

Except of course I am English and I am aware that this country is great because it is open and always has been. This is where the Danes fought with the Saxons and mixed their blood (a reference to the Argentinian Anglophile, Borges), this country gave refuge to the Huguenots, and the Asians from Uganda when Idi Amin went a little Idi Amin. This is England and this is my England and not Nick Griffin’s. I’m half Irish and have a jupitron which almost certainly means significant Scandy in me. Most of my extended family are mixed race. Oddly enough that is down to my Great Uncle Harry and a girl he met whilst stationed in India in the 1940s with the RAF – yes, Mr Griffin, he married a WAAF who was “slightly coffee coloured”* so you can really fuck off with the “finest hour schtick”. They were married in a Church of England Service in Calcutta Cathedral. She was well in the bun club but… It was love.

Oh, I have sworn in this post. But… love! Is that not more important than “racial realism”? And shall we not end on a positive note?

PS – I’m not alone.

*Well that’s what he telegrammed his Dad back in County Durham. His Dad upon meeting his son’s new bride said, “Damn strong coffee, Harry” and then said no more about it.

They peel them with their metal knives!

THE aliens are out there and Earth had better watch out, at least according to Stephen Hawking. He has suggested that extraterrestrials are almost certain to exist — but that instead of seeking them out, humanity should be doing all it that can to avoid any contact.

The suggestions come in a new documentary series in which Hawking, one of the world’s leading scientists, will set out his latest thinking on some of the universe’s greatest mysteries.

It is hardly Earth shattering is it? And Hawking is not “one of the world’s leading scientists”. He did some top-notch stuff on black holes in the ’70s and then got famous for gnomic pronouncements delivered in his trademark Speak and Spell fashion.

Alien life, he will suggest, is almost certain to exist in many other parts of the universe: not just in planets, but perhaps in the centre of stars or even floating in interplanetary space.

Stephen Hawking boldly goes… into the realms of wild speculation. Perhaps in the centre of stars. He is making it up.

Hawking’s logic on aliens is, for him, unusually simple. The universe, he points out, has 100 billion galaxies, each containing hundreds of millions of stars. In such a big place, Earth is unlikely to be the only planet where life has evolved.

Well bugger me sideways! That’s a new insight! That’s… I’m not even going to mention Fermi’s paradox.

“To my mathematical brain, the numbers alone make thinking about aliens perfectly rational,” he said. “The real challenge is to work out what aliens might actually be like.”

/facepalm. I shall now tell you all I or indeed the esteemed Professor knows about aliens.

You got that? We know nothing. Speculating what they might be like is fun if you’re writing a Dr Who episode but beyond that…

One scene in his documentary for the Discovery Channel shows herds of two-legged herbivores browsing on an alien cliff-face where they are picked off by flying, yellow lizard-like predators. Another shows glowing fluorescent aquatic animals forming vast shoals in the oceans thought to underlie the thick ice coating Europa, one of the moons of Jupiter.

I made my Dr Who comment too soon. By the way I got a hell of a canal network on Mars to sell…

Such scenes are speculative, but Hawking uses them to lead on to a serious point: that a few life forms could be intelligent and pose a threat. Hawking believes that contact with such a species could be devastating for humanity.

Such scenes are speculative. Be still my splitting sides! I is it me or Did Carl Sagan paddle this canoe thrity odd years back?

He suggests that aliens might simply raid Earth for its resources and then move on: “We only have to look at ourselves to see how intelligent life might develop into something we wouldn’t want to meet. I imagine they might exist in massive ships, having used up all the resources from their home planet. Such advanced aliens would perhaps become nomads, looking to conquer and colonise whatever planets they can reach.”

So it’s interstellar pikeys is it? I imagine they might exist in massive ships. I fear the good Prof is well and truly yanking our chain.

He concludes that trying to make contact with alien races is “a little too risky”. He said: “If aliens ever visit us, I think the outcome would be much as when Christopher Columbus first landed in America, which didn’t turn out very well for the Native Americans.”

Now that is pure Sagan. Sagan just said it four decades ago and more elegantly. But, dear reader, have you seen the true irony here? Have you?

Any first contact initiated by them will likely be because they have picked-up our TV and Radio shows whether they be “I Love Lucy” or Stephen Hawking. Going on the telly to say, don’t talk to aliens is talking to the aliens.

I always thought there was an imp of the perverse about Hawking.

Anyway I gladly welcome our insectoid overlords from the planet Zog and shall cheerfully toil in their sugar caves. Or whatever. I dunno but I’d really like to meet aliens – whether they be foes or mentors or pals even Eccentrica Gallumbits. It would be cool like the Rolling Stones forming the next cabinet. God knows where it would end but it would be one hell of a ride.

In case you are terminally young the title of this piece is from here. The ’70s. Flaired trousers, the Austin Allegro and Smash. I fortunately only barely remember it.

Server interruptus

The Cats server is a little erratic this evening. My this evening that is, your whenever. A friend has had their business server fail this weekend and, long weekend as it is in Oz, I have had to use Cats to test some components.



Should one return salaams to a parrot?!

Q. In my grandfather’s house there is a real live parrot, and when I pass by it, it greets me and says ‘al-salaamu ‘alaykum”. In this case do I have to return the greeting of this bird?.

A. Praise be to Allaah.


Al-Fayyoomi (may Allah have mercy on him) said:

The babgha’ (parrot) is a well-known bird. The word babgha’ may be masculine or feminine, and the plural is Babghawaat.

Al-Misbaah al-Muneer fi Ghareeb al-Sharh al-Kabeer, 1/35


It seems that it is not prescribed to return the greeting of a parrot which has learnt how to say salaams, because saying salaam is an act of worship and a supplication which requires intention on the part of the one who said it, and there is no such intention on the part of this trained creature. So one should not return its greeting. The ruling is the same as that on a tape on which the greeting is recorded and can be heard. It is transmission of sound and does not come under the ruling on greeting when it is broadcast live, in which case returning the greeting is prescribed and is a communal obligation (fard kifaayah).

Shaykh Muhammad ibn Saalih al-‘Uthaymeen (may Allah have mercy on him) said:

Sometimes the greeting may be recorded and they put it on the tape and run it. If it is recorded then you are not obliged to return the greeting, because this is just transmission of sound.

Liqa’ al-Bab al-Mmaftooh, 28/229

See the rest of the fatwa and details on this issue in the answer to question number 128737.

Based on that, the parrot does not intend to give the greeting of salaam, because it does not possess the power of reason, and when it speaks it is just repeating what it has been taught, without meaning what it says.

Some of the scholars have stated that it is not prescribed to prostrate if one hears a verse from a parrot or from a recorded tape.

One of the conclusions of the book Bahjat al-Asma‘ fi Ahkaam al-Samaa‘ fi’l-Fiqh al-Islami by Prof. ‘Ali ibn Dhariyaan ibn Faaris al-Hasan al-‘Anzi (published by Dar al-Manaar in Kuwait) is:

The listener need not do the prostration of recitation if he hears it from a source that is not human, such as a trained bird like a parrot or hearing it from an echo. End quote.

And Allah knows best.

Allah certainly does. I simply can’t wait for the fatwa on whether it is acceptable to say “boo” to a goose.

Islam – 1400 hundred years of answering the moral conundrums that nobody else gives a toss about.

Should one say “Hi there!” to a parrot? Oh, for fuck’s sake!

From here.

Recipe for corruption

I am oh so very wonderful I deserve loadsa money, all from the those idiot taxpayer schmucks.

Oh, and loadsa money for me friends too, but no one else.

Isn’t the closed shop wunnerful?

Someone did something great once, so lets pay em a lot of money in the future and starve out the the up and coming lads and lasses, you know, the competition.

Now that’ll do absolutely fucking wonders for the future of British science, won’t it?

Anything you can do…

I recently high-lighted the crass uselessness of US civil servants. It would appear our own dear Foreign Office can still compete at the highest level.

The Foreign Office has apologised for a “foolish” document which suggested the Pope’s visit to the UK could be marked by the launch of “Benedict” condoms.

Called “The ideal visit would see…”, it said the Pope could be invited to open an abortion clinic and bless a gay marriage during September’s visit.

The Foreign Office stressed the paper, which resulted from a “brainstorm” on the visit, did not reflect its views.

“Brainstorm” or some form of seizure?

The document went on to propose the Pope could apologise for the Spanish Armada or sing a song with the Queen for charity.

A source told the BBC News website the individual since moved to other duties had called the group together for “some blue-skies creative thinking about how to make the visit a success”, but their discussions had become “a joke that has gone too far”.

It’s great to know this nation’s foreign policy is being so well-run by the fourth form debating society.

I feel sorry for The Pink Paper. They ran this as their April Fool. Surely they could have got away with a lot more?

The world is truly upside-down when a Foreign Office document is more outrageous than an April Fool skit…

Oh, and the Pink’s joke was orders of magnitude funnier and more believable.

Caption competition

Actually, I know it isn’t the 20th May, but I am so excited I want to get in early.

So, what’s a good caption then?

Mo and a Medina Jew

Mo wins an argument with an infidel

Mo demonstrates the power of his intellect

Mo demonstrates the power of his logic

Mo, ten minutes after signing the treaty


Mo and a Medina Jew 1

Lest we forget


Religion of Tolerance (again)

Matt Stone and Trey Parker are in the doo doo, seems they have joined the list of targets from the Religion of Peace. Actually, I’m somewhat surprised they didn’t get there earlier, but what the hell, we’ll all be on that list eventually.

The 201th episode of South Park DIDN’T portray Mohammed. Truly, it didn’t. It portrayed someone in a teddy bear suit, but that wasn’t good enough for some of the poor darlings here – so, death threats all round I’m afraid.


All the relevant videos seem to be down, pity. Yesterday there was a doozey from one lot, juxtaposing Matt and Trey with Theo van Gogh. Nice. Nice huh? And no, these are not threats, just warnings. How do we know? Because these firm adherents to enlightenment values tell us so -

We have to warn Matt and Trey that what they are doing is stupid and they will probably wind up like Theo Van Gogh for airing this show. This is not a threat, but a warning of the reality of what will likely happen to them. Maybe they have not listened to this lecture before:

As evidence that they mean these cartoonists no harm, how about this?

You can contact them, or pay Comedy Central or their own company a visit at these addresses:

Yeah, sure, “We mean you no harm” they say, “and just to demonstrate our bona fides how about we give out your address’s and encourage every Islamic maniac, fruitloop and nutcase who passes our site to come pay you a visit?”


Watch the yellow bellied sycophants in the industry hang them out to dry. Just like the Motoon cartoonists. You know, all that would have been needed was for every newspaper in the West to just do their fucking job and publish the sodding cartoons, show everyone what the fuss was about, then everyone would have been safe – just way too many people to intimidate. But I guess I’m just preaching to the converted here.

What can we do? We defend the values that matter, and continue treating Sharia with the derision and contempt this foul code deserves, that’s what.

Be there or be dhimmi

20 May, 2010



Update:       Interesting, this bloke demonstrates zero understanding of the issues. Completely oblivious to what is and is not important.

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