Clemantics Autumn Edition 2

Welcome to Autumn Edition Part 2. We start as always with the wisdom of Clement Atlee

" If you begin to consider yourself solely responsible to a political party, you're half-way to a dictatorship."

Once again Clem's words have a deep resonance today as we see Theresa May following the abject lead of previous Tory PMs in putting the interests of the Tory party before those of the Nation. She is completely fearful of and in hock to the right wing of the Tory party, just as Cameron was before her. John Major's 'Bastards' have never really gone away. Now they are in the ascendancy with a weak, fatally wounded Prime Minister, who retains power only through buying off the rabid DUP. Be afraid; be very afraid.

PLAY YOUR BREXIT CARDS RIGHT

The Rules:
Two contestants; each asked a question in turn and, if successful, the contestant is invited to turn a playing card and  guess whether the next card will be higher or lower.

Your Host: (appearing courtesy of Ouiga Board productions) Sir Bruce Forsyth

BRUCIE: Tonight’s the night if you play your cards right and tonight's show is brought to you from Brussels. Nice to leave you, to leave you nice!

Let’s meet our first contestant. And what’s your name?

CONTESTANT 1: Dave Davis.
 BRUCIE: I always loved your music, especially Lola – gave me a lot of pleasure that!

And what do you do Dave – apart from play in a band?

CONTESTANT 1: I’m currently a waste of space!

BRUCIE: Lovely, and do you have any hobbies?

CONTESTANT 1: I’m really into smiling inanely when I don’t know what to do. I just love being unprepared and, oh yes, I have a black belt, nth (Desperate) Dan in ‘Constructive Ambiguity’

BRUCIE: Lovely, lovely, didn’t understand a word of that!

And now for our second contestant.

My but you look imposing; I don’t fancy the other one's chances.

And what’s your name?

CONTESTANT 2: Michel Barnstormer – but you can call me Sir.

BRUCIE: Lovely, lovely. And what do you do?

CONTESTANT 2: I’m a big (French) cheese in the EU and I squeeze money out of British politicians – mais, bien sur, I do so with impeccable savour faire!

BRUCIE: And do you have any hobbies?

CONTESTANT 2: Oui, je suis un membre del elite Francais and, quand je peut, I take great plaisir in making British politicians smile even more inanely and appear even more unprepared than usual.

BRUCIE: Lovely, good game, good game.

Now, Michel, the first question is for you.

How much should the UK pay to exit the EU?

CONTESTANT 2: 100 BILLION EUROS

BRUCIE: Blimey, don’t skimp will you!

Now Dave do you want to go higher or lower?

CONTESTANT 1: Lower.

BRUCIE: How much?

CONTESTANT1: 50 euros.

BRUCIE: Cheeky, so just 50 euros lower?

CONTESTANT 1: No, just literally 50 euros.

BRUCIE: Michel, do you want to go higher or lower?

CONTESTANT2: Sacre bleu, plus haut – 90 billion euros!

BRUCIE: Dave, higher or lower?

To be concluded before March 2019

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A song for Europe from our Brexit Balladeer sitting on the Brexit fence – Sandy Unsure   ( backing vocals provided by Davis and May)

I wonder if one day that

We'll say “What a pair!”

As Brexit goes badly,

They'll sadly be there

2 puppets on a string

Brexit's just like a merry-go-round

With none of the fun of the fair.

One day there's a run on the pound

Explained by a lot of hot air

Maybot's leading us on

She's really one big con...

I wonder if one day that

We'll say “We don't care!”

Though Brexit's gone badly

They're sadly still there

Just 2 puppets on a string

We will lose on the economy

Trade packaged with unpleasant things

In or out there is never a doubt

Barnier's pulling our strings

We're still gonna be tied to EU

So where is Brexit leading us to?

I wonder...

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We return for more of:

The Daily Service from The Church of Our Lady of Duplicity, Maidenhead

The Address

Given by:

 The Right-Raving Don T. Rump, Ass-Bishop and Primate of the America 1^st Church

I must start off by saying how fortunate you are to be here with me today. I am going to be terrific and you will all go home very, very happy at what I have taught you; happier than you thought possible. We're gonna look at the Old Testamony Book of Brexitus; it's beautiful; Now those old Profits, being Jewish, didn't write too good, so Donny's gonna Mansplain it to you.

Now there's this great Dude – you're gonna love him – Moses; hookey name but a great, great guy. I know; I've met him.

Moses, super-intelligent, Purple Heart brave, sees that his Folks are being oppressed so darn hard they're squeaking like pips in a pomegranate. They are held captive, beyond their borders, in the Land of the Infidel, working as slaves for Pharaoh Jean-Claude ' Let's-have-a-party-at-the-public's-expense' Junket.

This Junket has surrounded himself with a bunch of bad hombres and mujers : Donny ' the elephant man' Tusk; Michel 'the crazy-one' Barmier; 'The double-dealing, cross-dresser' Super Mario-in-Draggy and the retired 'fencing champion' Christine-en-Garde. A Quintet of Evil; these are very, very bad people.

So Mose goes marching straight into this nest of vipers, like he's paying a visit to Mar-a-Lago after a round of golf; He's right in Junket's face, way, way, way too close for comfort. He's straight out with it:

“Junket; you can fcuk off;; I'm takin' my Soup Snakes back to Brexitland; all of 'em. I'm gonna build a wall right down the Straits of Dover; it's gonna be huge; believe me no-one builds walls bigger than me; it's gonna be so big you Eugyptians won't even be able to see Brexitland, let alone get in!

And, here's the best bit, I'm gonna make Chrissie-en-Garde pick up the tab!”

Big Balls, I call that; Big balls – Respect, Mose, Respect!

Mose walks right out the door slamming a fist through a door panel as he goes, leaving the Axis of Evil to decide on their next move. So Mose high-tales it back to where the Folks are waiting for him. They are very, very rammy; expectation is high; excitement is tremendous.

“ So what's the deal, Dude?” They call out in one beautiful, beautiful voice.

Mose raises his arms aloft. “Here's what's gonna happen... you heard it here; you heard it from Mose. Do not believe what you read on any fake tablets of stone. Watch my lips... Here's the deal..

Number 1 – It's Brexitland first; no seconds; just Brexitland first.

Number 2 – Mose is gonna take you all to the Broken-Promises Land that lies and more lies beyond Eugypt borders

Number 3 - We're gonna kick some Euro-ass

“ How you gonna do that, Man?” comes a voice in the crowd

Mose Manspreads

“ We're gonna drive a big highway across the Straits of Dover...”

“ Drive that highway, Mose. Drive that highway” comes the refrain.

“And wait... Once we're safely across in Dover, we're gonna back-fill it with water; protect our borders and drown the Oppressors.”

“ Mose is The Man,”goes up the cry, followed by “We're behind you every inch ( let's keep it imperial!) of the way.”

By now the Brexiters are in a massive frenzy; and I do not have to tell you that no-one does frenzy bigger than those Brexiters:

“ Way to go, Mose!” they shout

Mose marches them Dawgies straight down to the waterfront. There's a huge, huge crowd there already; huger than at a Pharoah's inauguration; I mean,tremendous, unbelievable numbers of Folks begging, on their knees, begging to be taken out of Eugypt. Mose marches down the beach; amazing; sand everywhere; they all follow, whoopin' and hollerin, so, so happy to be on their way to Brexitland.

They march right into the sea - “Goin' home, Mose!” they chant. It's a truly awesome spectacle, as awesome as spectacles get. They wade in; they're up to their knees; they're up to their chests but... there's no super-highway; that's right – No, I mean, NO SUPERHIGHWAY.

“Where's that road, Mose?” is the cry from all sides, “We're kinda drownin' here... you promised...”

Mose turns to them – he is still safe on terra firma and says “ I didn't promise you a Super-highway, that was just a Whopper to get you going.”

Now let me tell you these Brexiters are stupid, such stupid people; they turn to Mose and say “OK Mose. Hail to you Chief; we still love and respect you.” And they march right out into the sea as if that Superhighway is magically gonna appear... fabulous, incredible...

Now, in the name of my Father Donald T. Rump (Snr); in the name of my son, Donald T. Rump (Jnr) and in the name of the Sunday Roast . Amen

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Clemantics Autumn Edition

 Welcome to Clemantics Autumn Edition 2017

Clem seems to have antipated the arrival on the scene of the ' Toxic Triangle of  Davis, Johnson & Fox' at a seminal moment in  UK history  

"In a life and death struggle, we cannot afford to leave our destinies in the hands of failures."

 

 Editorial: Labour MPs need to Mann UP

Keir Starmer announced a welcome change in the Labour Party's position on Brexit to a chorus of disapproval from a handful of Midland and Northern Labour MPs.

The burden of their complaint was that Labour voters in their constituencies had voted for Brexit in order to exert some control over immigration. The subtext to the complaint was clearly that the MPs feared losing their seats if Labour were seen to take a measured view on immigration control.

Shame on John Mann et al, who have heaped self-interest on spinelessness.

Do they not understand that MPs have a responsibility to lead as well as represent; to subordinate self-interest and political risk to doing what is right?

It is little wonder that many Labour voters, worn down by chronic austerity, have latched onto immigration as the source of all UK's ills.

• We were fed a daily diet of lies, half-truths, distortions about immigration and immigration figures throughout the referendum campaign.

• omissions regarding the way immigration enriched our economy and culture; for example: overseas students using visas to overstay (untrue)

• failure to mention £21 billion income they generated (omission); dependency of agriculture on EU labour;

• necessity of having immigrant skills and labour to fill key jobs and meet skills shortages;

• perpetuating the welfare scroungers/ health tourism myths.
  

The fearful Labour MPs should be feeding accurate information about immigration to their constituents in order that they might re-evaluate their position.Is it not more respectful of voters to engage them in debate rather than treat them as an unthinking, immovable Lumpenproletariat with fixed opinions? There is more than a whiff of intellectual snobbery attached to failing to engage in debate with one's constituents.


So c'mon John Mann Get up; stand up...get out and create a new narrative with the people you are supposed to represent or else it will have to be Mann overboard!

 

We begin today by joining the Tory Party at prayer as they seek divine intervention on how to get out of 'la croque merde' into which the Leaderene led them in June.

The Daily Service from The Church of Our Lady of Duplicity, Maidenhead

A Reading from the Gospel according to St.Theresa 

 

The Brexiting Demoniac – Theresa 8: 26-36

26. Then the New Messiah sailed to the sceptic Isle of Brexit, having negotiated the treacherous Straits of Europhobia; and when he landed, the people of the town of Ben-Dover came out to greet him saying: “Thou art Jacob Squeeze-Mopp, son of Volf Squeeze-Mopp and brother to Annunciata Squeeze-Mopp; Messiah,Thou hast come to save us.”

27. Jacob-the-Mopp replied “I know not of that Old Chap; but it seems like a good wheeze to me”. And those close by cast down their eyes for they heard His words but they comprehended them not; none could understand, for Jacob spoke Toffetonian

28. 'Whence goeth thy leader?' enquired Mopp of the citizens.

Emboldened by the insipid,impish appearance of the New Messiah, a swine-herd, known amongst his cronies,as Farago, grabbed Jacob-the-Mopp's arm and fixing him with his gaze said “ Our Leader, Boris-the-dark-Jester (BoDJ), lies 1000 ells (about a mile) hence. He is possessed of Demons; he deports himself wholly in the buff; that is to say naked unto the bollix. He lies at ease with the Brexit Swine atop the bluff known as 'White Cliffs'.

29. With measured stride, the New Messiah came upon this place. The Dark Jester espying Mopp from afar rose up in order to best disport his magnificence and said. “Ave, Jacobus Pravus; I know you from Scholam Nostram Eton Urbe Impostam. What business do we have with each other?”
 

30. The New Messiah let curl his superior lip and unleashed a sardonic smile replete with bile and derision. “You are possessed by the DeFeffel, the Demons are Legion and I have come to purge you of them.”

31. Jacob-the-Mopp's words mightily vexed the Demons, which inhabited BoJD's head screamed in desperation to each other. Beguiling words, which had no meaning tumbled from their lips “Brexit means Brexit,” shouted one; “Take back control,” exhorted another; “Cut the red tape,” exclaimed a third.

32. But the New Messiah was deaf to all such words and the entreaties, to which they were harbinger. The pitiful, tormented BoDJ writhed upon the ground in agony, weeping and wailing. “Forgive me, Great Mopp, I have lied most grievously; I have broken all my Brexit promises; I have given Johnson free rein when he should have been locked firmly in his stable. I was drawn into the abyss of temptation by Darius Guppy, the Devil of Bullenden and there is no health in me.” Catching Squeeze Mopp's eye, BoDJ winked conspiratorially and whispered “350 million Denarii to spend on the sick and unwashed – that's my final offer.

33. Extending the hand of brotherhood towards BoDJ, Squeezed-Mopp commanded the unclean spirits out of the man and bid them descend to the town of Ben-Dover, where they should seek out the duplicitous Farago, with whom they might consort. On hearing this, the spirits were sore afraid;

34. They pleaded with the New Messiah, saying “Farago; he too crazy for us! Cast us instead into the Brexit swine, who attend upon BoDJ. “At this, the Brexit swine, lifted their noses from their troughs and started to grunt in an agitated manner. The Demons entered the swine. The cry of “Bacon for Brexit, Turkeys for Christmas” went up from the Swine and “I'd rather die a Free Bacon Butty...”

35. “Whence are we commanded?” enquired the deranged Swine of the Messiah? “ You're off to see Eleanor Ancartt!” replied Squeezed-Mopp, chortling at his own wit. This caused great excitement amongst the Brexit Swine. “ We're off to Eleanor Ancartt!” repeated the Porker-in-Chief, who started to gallop towards the White Cliffs. Other members of the herd picked up the refrain and charged after their leader.

36. The air was filled with cries of “Bacon for Brexit at any cost” and “Hell in a handcart” as the Brexit Swine joyously threw themselves from the White Cliffs. Then there was a long silence broken only by the sea breaking on the Brexit shore. “Oh dear me!” said Jacob Squeezed Mopp thoughtfully.

 

Here endeth the lesson

We will return later for:

1.  'The Trumpette shall sound ' - A reading from the Old Testamony by the Leader of The America First Church (1^st Church of America? Ed.), Ivanka Parp
   
   
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   Alice in Brexit Land
   
   
   Alice learns about Constructive Ambiguity – (a tribute to David Davis negotiating stance with the EU)
   
   
   
   
   
   Alice felt cross and confused as she wandered off from the Tea Party into the impenetrable undergrowth of Brexitland. What did the Mad Hatter mean when he said that 'No Breakfast was better than a bad Breakfast'? What did the March Hare mean by 'Pro having cake and pro-eating it'? In Brexitland, decided Alice nothing is at appears to be.
   
   
   Alice crashed through the undergrowth talking reflectively to herself. She recalled how the March Hare had winked at her and pronounced that ' there are no disasters, only opportunities; and indeed opportunities for disasters.' The Hare had said this whilst mischievously pouring hot water over the Dormouse, who was fast asleep in the tea-pot.
   
   
   Alice was interrupted in her musings by a stern voice: “What's your name, young girl?”. Alice looked up to see a larger than life personage perched precariously on a narrow wall. How had she missed such an all-consuming sight?
   
   
   “Name; what's your name?” demanded the inquisitor
   
   
   “ Why Alice,” began Alice.
   
   
   “Why indeed?” scoffed the voice from on high. “ Alice is a stupid name. It tells me nothing about you. After all that's what names are for.”
   
   
   “ You're very rude, “said Alice, “ And isn't it just a little sexist to refer to me as, young girl?”
   
   
   “Nonsense”, retorted the voice. “ Now it would be sexist if I thought that you were a woman but called you a girl;; as it is I think you are a girl and that is what I will call you. When I use a word it means just what I choose it to mean – neither more nor less.”
   
   
   Alice tried to respond to this very male reasoning (the like of which, she had not experienced since she gave up listening to 'Yesterday in Parliament') but the pompous vice continued:
   
   
   “Take my name I was back in the day just plain Davis from the Estate, which meant nothing and told little about me. So I changed my name to Numpty Dumpty. “
   
   
   “What does Numpty Dumpty mean?”, enquired Alice.
   “Isn't it obvious? Numpty – a stupid or ineffectual person. Dumpty – someone who has been dumped; as I was by the Dreadful Cameroon. But as you see, I am back in one piece. Oh, yes! I am very much back – maybe a bit more cracked but very much back!”
   
   
   
   “Well”, exclaimed Alice, “ I am very pleased to meet you, Mr. Numpty Dumpty. - Or at least I think I am. By the way what does all that ' a word means what I want it to mean' mean,” asked Alice.
   
   
   Numpty Dumpty broke into a humourless laugh. “ What an exceedingly dull girl you are! I told the Gover that tinkering with exams would not make a ha'p'orth of difference. Youngsters these day are just ignorant.”
   “Let me introduce you to my latest linguistic invention by way of explanation...'Constructive Ambiguity' – a rather refined and clever phrase, if I say so myself. Well, what do you make of that?”
   
   
   “M mm... constructive means beneficial or worthwhile,” suggested Alice “While Ambiguity indicates uncertainty of meaning or intention... so I suppose you are saying it is useful to make people uncertain of what you mean.”
   
   
   “Uh h, sort of” agreed Numpty, “But it is something more sumptuous than that. You see, I am a negotiator by trade, and very good at it, if I might say so. I prefer to think of Constructive Ambiguity more as casuistry or sophism or put more plainly deceptive cunning.”
   
   
   Alice looked completely bemused.
   
   
   “ Let me give you some examples from my negotiations-in-chief.
   
   
   “As you know the Jabberwocky rules over many countries, which he calls the Custard Union, so-called because everyone can buy and sell custard without hindrance. Brexitland was part of the Custard Union, but we sort of believed that we would be better off buying and selling our custard all over Wonderland without the Jabberwocky's interference. We soon found out that going it alone was a disaster because amongst other things most of the custard trade was with the Jabberwock countries.
   
   
   So how did Numpty solve this tricky problem? Easy – by leaving the Custard Union in order to be part of the Custard Union – now that's Constructive Ambiguity in action! Ta-da!” said Numpty spreading his arms wide and nearly overbalancing.”
   
   
   “ But that makes no sense,” said a puzzled Alice.
   
   
   My dear Girl, you're missing the point” remarked Numpty tetchily. “ Well see if you can understand this:
   “The Jabberwocky has a Court called the 'Court-of-Just-His”, which passes laws that are just for him. We have no say in and no control over the laws the evil Jabberwocky makes. So we decided to get rid of the Jabberwocky's Court and have our own Brexitland Court. Problem is we found we needed the Jabberwock's Laws to continue to trade with the Custard Union. Now that's a problem; call for Numpty: Numpty's solution? Get rid of the Court-of-Just-His by 'mirroring its laws in our own Brexitland Court! - Constructive Ambiguity! Marvellous!” Numpty exclaimed in a rather self-congratulatory way.
   
   
   “Isn't that a little dishonest?” ventured Alice.
   
   
   “That's as maybe.” replied Numpty Dumpty. “ My last triumph, I think you will agree, is the best :
   The Jabberwocky is a devil for red-tape – he adores it. Tied up like kippers we were by all the red-tape. Numpty discovered however that by breaking away we needed more red-tape and a whole department of people making and untangling red in order to escape The Jabberwocky's red tape . Id est (i.e.) red-tape to get rid of red-tape!!”
   
   
   “Constructive Ambiguity?” suggested Alice.
   
   
   “Exactly,” said Numpty, warming to his now friend.
   
   
   “But isn't it all just totally nuts?” wondered Alice.
   
   
   “Oh, dear; perhaps you're right” mused Numpty Dumpty. “You know, I feel quite unstable up here on this wall... come to think of it. Whoa; I think I'm falling...Heeelp!!”
   
   
   
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   Thanks to Lewis Carroll - a source of constant inspiration when considering the absurd politics of Brexit

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   And Another Thing...

   

   Who’s the man? 

   Nick Cohen – he’s the man! (Ref: Observer 3^rd September 2017)

    

   
   

   Fashion Tips – What’s In, What’s Out.

   
   

   
   

   Wellington boots and waders are sooo last year.

   
   

   For those who think themselves hip, 6” heels and slacks for her, suede brogues, slacks and a smart jacket for him.

   
   

   Now, these clothing items lack something in water-proofing but for those who are clearly just pleased with themselves and want to be distinct from the hoi polloi they are perfect!

   
   

   DATELINE: HOUSTON, AUGUST 2017

   
   

   
   

   
   

   Brexit – The (Fairy) Story So Far

   
   

   Or as Churchill said “Jaw, jaw, not war, war”- which is precisely the reason why the EEC (later the EU) was created.

   
   

   
   

   And then there were Trade Deals…

   
   

   
   

   The world waits the day when Global UK will be unveiled in all its glory… And what deals await…!

   
   

   Hey! 

   We currently have a trade surplus with the US.

   
   

   
   

   Does anybody seriously think The Donald will tolerate such a thing?

   
   

   No! (‘America First, America First’)

    

   
   

   So what can we expect? Chlorinated chickens, much to the pleasure of swimming pool enthusiasts, and hormone enhanced beef; the medical profession will replace hormone replacement therapy with the words “have a roast this Sunday”.

   
   

   
   

   As in any trade deal there will be winners and losers, in this case the winners will be the US and the losers will be – guess!

   
   

   Chicken farmers and beef producers will go to the wall and, with the doubtless introduction of multi-national companies to the National Health Service, the phrase ‘free at the point of delivery’ will become just ‘free entry’.

   
   

   
   

   Then there’s India…

   
   

   
   

   Hang on... the Indian PM has already held talks with the EU about a trade deal!

   
   

   And, whoops a daisy, Japan is close to agreeing a free trade deal with the EU.

   
   

   Also, the Japanese want us to have a Customs Union with the EU so they can maintain de facto access to the single market.

   
   

   Who do they think they are? Just because Nissan, Honda, Toyota could up sticks to Europe.

   
   

   Just because Japanese banks have announced plans to scale down their presence in London over the potential loss of their EU Passport, which allows the banks to trade freely with Europe!

   
   

   
   

   Well, what did we expect? We seem to be running a very poor second in this race and, looking at our negotiating team, I don’t think we have much of a sprint finish in the tank; we’re more likely to stop and retire hurt!

   
   

   But take heart you despondent Remainers! That frighteningly believable John Dead… sorry, Redwood

    

   says he’s not at all concerned, everything will be fine.
    
   

   And that should be good enough for anybody!

   
   

   The End… Is nigh…

   
   

   And Finally

   
   

   Talking of Nye we should perhaps heed Mr Bevan's advice and pick up a Daily Mail and have a good laugh: 
   
   

   " I read the newspapers avidly. It is my one form of continuous fiction."
   quoted in The Times, 29 March 1960

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