Tag: Judas was paid

Enoch Powell – Ms Rudd takes it lying down

JWP, Going Postal

The House of Commons several days after a bomb has exploded on the London Underground.

JEP: “I thank you Mr Speaker and I am grateful for this opportunity to respond to the Home Secretary.

Mr Speaker, it is a wearisome task to rise once again on such an occasion as this. It is apparent that terrorism is now part and parcel of the daily business of this house just as it has become the daily concern of the country at large. To claim that such outrageous acts as have been perpetrated in recent days are to be expected and that they form part of the landscape of the life of the modern city is a statement that is both objectionable and obscene and it is the more so for all, myself included, who can remember a nation at peace with itself. It is the language of the fool and of the appeaser.

Continue reading “Enoch Powell – Ms Rudd takes it lying down”

Facebooktwittergoogle_plusmail

John Enoch Powell, MBE

Judas was paid, Going Postal

If time could be conflated and the men of yesteryear come face to face with those of today….

I have sometimes wondered what JEP would say if he was here to speak to our present situation. I know that his words would be vastly, vastly more apposite and powerful than anything I can formulate, but I offer this in the hope that it might catch something of the spirit of the man……

I am able to do no more than reach out and touch the hem of his garment.

Continue reading “John Enoch Powell, MBE”

Facebooktwittergoogle_plusmail

Postcard from Lytham St Annes

As several other people have been kind enough to send postcards from their travels, I feel inclined to greet  you all from my home town of Lytham St Annes. It truly is like being on holiday every day of the year.

I came to live here twenty-one years ago and now that I have retired I have no plans to move elsewhere. It  is one of the finest of English seaside towns. I think this would become apparent to anybody who was  fortunate enough to take just a short saunter down our main streets. You will meet mostly English people,  with a smattering of Scots but seldom, if at all will you stumble across a migrant, refugee or immigrant  from sunnier climes. Consequently, we have very little crime. I often go to bed without my pyjamas as I know  I am unlikely to be disturbed.

Continue reading “Postcard from Lytham St Annes”

Facebooktwittergoogle_plusmail

“Forward, Together”

Judas was paid, Going Postal
If Gordon Brown was a Tory

So Theresa May wants us to go “Forward, Together”. Thank you, but no.

There is no ‘togetherness’ that would make it possible for the people of this land to hasten onward to a shared vision and a common destination. We are a fractured society, a people ill at ease with one another, a nation divided from top to bottom and from side to side. The flag of St George, once an emblem of our greatness and an ensign to which we could all gather in good times and in bad, is now an illustration of the dividing lines that cut through the entire landscape of our national life.

Continue reading ““Forward, Together””

Facebooktwittergoogle_plusmail

This is Tony Blair

JWP, Going Postal

This is Tony Blair (full name: Anthony Mohindas Lazarus Agnes Lionel Blair). He is very rich. He was once Prime Minister of Great Britain during which time he was briefly married to the President of the USA. He is now married to a woman who is also very rich. They live in big houses and possess several embarrassingly awful swimsuits. He is thought to enjoy staying at various cottages throughout the countryside and towns of England.

Tony Blair started the People’s War, a conflict in which he did not fight but in which ordinary people were sent away to be shot.

It is reported that Tony Blair suffers from total deafness as when great numbers of British persons rose up to oppose his People’s War he did not hear a word.

Continue reading “This is Tony Blair”

Facebooktwittergoogle_plusmail

Robin Cook – Ethical Foreign Policy

JWP, Going Postal

Labour had been in power a matter of a few days when Robin Cook preached to the nation on Labour’s big new idea, an Ethical Foreign Policy. I remember thinking at the time that this was novel, strange and very foolish.

Ethics are not ectoplasm. They do not appear from the ether to inform our thoughts, shape our opinions and direct our deeds. Ethics, like morals (are they not the same thing?) require codifying, laying down, carving on tablets of stone before they can be applied, lest we fall foul of the temptation to make it up as we go along.
 
One notable absence from Cook’s speech was any indication which code of ethics we would thereafter be seeking to apply. I believe he was himself a staunch atheist (strange that he should have had a Christian funeral. I suppose even Socialists like to purchase insurance policies) and that would suggest that the ethical code that he would seek to apply in New Labour’s Foreign Policy would not be what we might call “Judaeo-Christian” in nature, but rather something like a Humanist one. To inform myself what this might amount to, I turned to the British Humanist Association where we are told:

Continue reading “Robin Cook – Ethical Foreign Policy”

Facebooktwittergoogle_plusmail

Love came down at Christmas

JWP, Going Postal

Love came down at Christmas,
love all lovely, Love divine;
love was born at Christmas,
star and angels gave the sign.

Worship we the Godhead,
love incarnate, Love divine;
worship we our Jesus:
but wherewith for sacred sign?

Love shall be our token,
love be yours and love be mine,
Love to God and all men,
love for plea and gift and sign.
Christina Rossetti

Continue reading “Love came down at Christmas”

Facebooktwittergoogle_plusmail

The GP Advent Calendar of Cuisine – Puffin in milk sauce (Mjólkursoðinn lundi)

JWP, Going Postal
What the fuck!

I don’t care much for puffin and other sea-birds as food, but many people love them and eat them whenever they can. This recipe resembles the recipe for rock ptarmigan, in that the birds are cooked in milk.

Continue reading “The GP Advent Calendar of Cuisine – Puffin in milk sauce (Mjólkursoðinn lundi)”

Facebooktwittergoogle_plusmail

Coronation Street with Going Postal

JWP, Going Postal

Scene: The Rovers Return. The Snug. Sometime in the run up to Christmas 1967.

Minnie: Eeeeew, Ena, do wind up your face. I’ve never sin thee looking so mardy in a long while.

Ena: I’ll have you know Minnie Caldwell, I’ve got good reason to be mardy. I’ve been fingered by the Vicar.

Minnie: Whatever for Ena? What on earth has he said?

Ena: Remember those Christmas Hampers we got from Albert Snodgrass on Inkerman Steet? Well, somebody has been through them and taken all the tins and the Dundee cake Family Size Slices. They were there last Tuesday because I checked them, but somebody has been in and the Vicar thinks it’s me.

Martha: Well Ena, I have to say………

Ena: I’ll bid you keep your mouth shut Martha Longhurst and whatever perverted thoughts you might be entertaining in that addled brain of yours……..

Martha: I was just going to say Ena……..

Minnie: I think you’d better shut up Martha. Ena’s never been fingered in her life. It’s not a happy experience for a woman of her years. Anyhow, Ena, on another matter, have you sold any tickets yet for the LGBTQ Christmas dinner?

Ena: I have not Minnie Caldwell, and I will not be selling any either. If you think I’m going to be party to men dressing up as women and women dressing up as men and parading their sordid wares up and down the Vestry Corridor you’ve got another think coming.

Minnie: Well I’ve sold two books of raffle tickets already. And I’ve volunteered to be on tea duty from two…….

Ena: You always were a sucker from a pretty boy Minnie Caldwell.

Martha: She’s always been a sucker for anything in trousers. Problem is, it’ll be the women whose in the trousers…………(Titters to self, holding dentures in for safety).

Minnie: Ena, have you ever met a homosexual?

Ena: If I had met a homosexuaaaaaaaal, do you think I’d want to tell you? I don’t need to meet one, I can smell one at two hundred imperial yards. They have a smell about them.

Minnie: I’ve never met a homosexual. I don’t even know what one looks like, never mind the smell. I think my nephew might be one. He goes to Morocco with his friend. They’ve been friends for five years now. I think they’re close.

Ena: There’s nothing I want to know about your nephew and his visits to Sodom and Gomorrah, Minnie Caldwell. And I’ve paid good money for this milk stout so I’d be obliged if you’d keep it to yourself.

JWP, Going Postal

Martha: Seems we ‘ave a lot we ‘ave to keep to ourselves these days.

Minnie: Anyway Ena, I don’t think they’ll be having the Christmas Dinner in the Church Hall this year. I heard the Vicar telling Mrs Evans that we’re housing twenty foreign children this year. They’re coming by bus from the Home Office.

Ena: “Suffer little children to come unto me.” I suppose the fingering cleric will be preaching that to us next Sunday. Well, he’ll be left in no doubt that if a single one of those dayglo’s sets foot in my broom cupboard it’ll be the starting whistle for World War Three. (bangs table)

Marth: I think some of them have already arrived. I was talking to Mrs Jefferies from Sebastopol Terrace. We can see each other from box room window. She was hanging out her husband’s smalls; they’re not very small and I think he has a problem with his digestion. He was gassed you know………………

Continue reading “Coronation Street with Going Postal”

Facebooktwittergoogle_plusmail

A strange thing happened to me in the night

JWP, Going Postal

A strange thing happened to me in the night. As I slumbered within my house of strong walls I metamorphosed into somebody else. When I awoke I was no longer me; I was Theresa May. Showering and shaving were interesting and Mrs JWP was most amused to see me descend the stairs wrapped in a leopard skin and tangerine two-piece with matching pill box hat. However, with all the fluidity of Duckhams 20w50 I soon settled into my new identity and after a hearty breakfast of tea and cigarettes I took my place behind my desk to take in hand the meaty matters of the day.

As I glanced out of the lead lights at the garden lawn, bedecked with morning dew and only the occasional trace of dog a thought entered my mind. We are, we truly are in a moment of golden opportunity.

There has been much talk of a snap General Election. Should I call one? Would it be seen as naked opportunism? What about the fixed term Parliament thingy? Well, I mused to myself that there are times in life when it seems a higher power is working with you and for you and it is somewhat perverse to go against the flow. This, I thought is one such moment.

Continue reading “A strange thing happened to me in the night”

Facebooktwittergoogle_plusmail