Of course there are realities within realities, truths within truths, lies within lies and if we are to believe some scientists, worlds within worlds. All inexorably bound together by thin threads of time and space, into a shimmering web of infinite possibility and potential; delicately balanced by conflicting gravity's somewhere between past and future, light and dark, good and evil, life and death. Only the names and places have been changed to protect the innocent and guilty.
The Sloth Derby
Genera: BradysleazeCholoepusleazeus
And they are off!
Four weeks to a general election and Nazi lying Labour, are already behaving like a dangerous pack of cornered Rat's. With the opinion polls indicating either a hung Parliament or the demise of the archetypal spinning men, the hollow men and Labour cradle to grave elected dictatorship in Brawn's bully boy Britain. Only four weeks to completely wipe the hard drives and shred several forests of incriminating evidence, tie-up the lose-ends, murder and discredit any potential witnesses to their sleazeball crimes and let the failures, the mess and muddle of men with a Vernon's Pools, spend, spend, spend mentality and more spin and spittle than a rabid Bulldog chasing its own tail, fade to grey, fade away.
Four weeks to flip, fool, filibuster and fiddle their way into a fourth term. As the only party able to save Britain, which after thirteen years of death by a thousand cuts from Labour's devastating communist cultural revolution, gun-boar interventionist foreign policy and economic incompetence while effortlessly creating the worlds most over inflated credit bubble. Which went bang in all our faces leaving every man, woman and child in this country with the equivalent of two hundred thousand pounds of debt (1.7 trillion pounds) per person. Who, having intentionally paddled the country well and truly up 'Shit Creek',are the only political party capable of getting us out. Having thrown away the paddles but with the determination of spendaholics and giant sleazeballs, are still the only people to rescue us from their mismanagement, inherent corruption and abuse of office.
Four weeks to fiddle the postal voting, massage key marginals and fool again the button pushers and lever pullers. Four weeks for the spin Doctors along with their covens of public relations men, special advisers, image consultants and special effects men to cast again the trusted old spells, conjuring up forgotten Demons and Devils. While throwing all the mud they could grasp in their grubby little hands, holding the dirtiest, most personal, corrupt election in decades as they bullied and brow beat the electorate into voting for more of the same congenital nest feathering and opulent self interest down among the more popular 'runs' around the Rat's Palace.
Four weeks to erase the security tapes and wipe the systems back-up discs. To be born again all sparkly and new inside the regeneration tanks, genetically modified to speak out of their arses with gene sequences from a corn upon John Presscoat's left foot and a blob of Tony Bear's snot, gold plated of course. As if the past thirteen years of elected dictatorship, religious delusion, disastrous foreign policy and lamentable financial mismanagement had not happened - you are feeling sleepy, your eyes are getting heavy - not according to the way many remember the fading lights of freedom and democracy. How Tony Bear, John Presscoat and Gordon Brawn et al, payed scant regard to cabinet government, truth and fundamental traditions inside the Labour party, with their Mussolini pouts and Fascist hand thumping.
How did John Presscoat (El Doucha), ex deputy prime minister with Labour's portfolio for torture, bullying and religious persecution, the brain of a Sloth and personality of a rusty ball-bearing, manage to shoot effortlessly, miraculously up the greasy pole of British sleazeball politics as if he had a shuttle (rocket) up his arse? And why is it, as chairman of the Labour party and deputy Prime Minister before, during and after the lies, deception, mess and muddle of the second Gulf War. Has he not been called to give evidence before the white-wash with a hint of brown fiasco and complete waste of tax payers money, known as the Iraq Inquiry?
A man so favoured by the entrenched Nazi's, Fascists and federalists of the Fourth Reich that the European Union became. He now sits upon the very pinnacle of unaccountable politics, the European Council of Ministers. With his own Teflon coating and Harry Porter cloak of invisibility to hide the endemic corruption and systematic abuse of office (misfefemvie) from media scrutiny and public knowledge. About the people's politician, a champagne quaffing socialist with not one but two Jaguars and house worth over a million pounds in his Hull (East) constituency. Because it certainly was not for his intelligence, intellect, ability to string together a grammatically correct sentence, charming personality (unless there was money, patronage and power for him and his friends), or impeccable morality and commitment to freedom and democracy.
Nor was it because like a Wombat he could produce cube shaped shit, or had any role in the staggering three thousand seven hundred new offences created by the failed lawyers and spinning men of Nazi lying labour. Who made it illegal to cause a nuclear explosion, sell Ruddy Ducks and Japanese Knot Weed while fiddling, flipping and fooling the British electorate. As they staggered from one of Parliaments ten subsidised bar's to the next, mumbling 'there is one born every minute' before falling asleep m, completely pissed upon the comfortable, privileged green benches of the Rat's Palace in Westminster. Along with all the other snoring, baying, brain dead members of New labours terracotta army of nodding dog politicians an the Stepford Wives for whom things could only get better and better.
Thanks to the endemic bing, bang, bung of political corruption and unaccountable power, patronage and favour within Westminster's well used Rat 'runs' and five star, gold platted sewers, specially constructed for those bigger shits and unfeasibly large amounts of effluence and waste to come pouring from an institution lost without trace to the seventeenth century, in a fantasy world that time forgot amongst the dust and detritus of inherent corruption, abuse and unaccountability. As for the truth of his meager talents and abilities, I learnt long before I whistle-blew to a man from the Local Government Audit Commission about Presscoat and his son's company illegally purchasing hundreds of council houses under the right to buy scheme, endemic bullying and political corruption in Hull. And they say crime does not pay, well it certainly does for sleazeball politicians and their friends in the 'mother' of all Parliaments.
While for my appalling crimes of telling the truth, honesty and morality, I would be destroyed both professionally and personally by Labour, who raised the criminals to the highest office in the land so they could make my life a living Hell along with local Labour politicians, their family's, friends, the security forces, co-conspirators in corruption and John Presscoat's on the waterfront, four-by-four summery justice. Once the Local Government Audit Commission, having put the labour council on 'special measures' and asked the Humberside police to investigate the alleged illegal sale and purchase of council properties and corruption regarding council contracts. Men and women with pocket-calculators the size of bill-boards, finally left town without so much as a 'don't forget to call. The Labour council having had to intentionally lose the next local election or see the entire council taken to court.
I was a 'dead man walking' - metaphorically speaking. Especially as the then Chief Constable of Humberside lived conveniently, to conveniently some might say, next door but one to the Right Horrible John Presscoat, deputy Prime Minister and serial recidivist - convenient or what? Especially when a lengthy police investigation found there to be insufficient evidence to prosecute Presscoat or son of sleazeball. Though his best friend, the then chair of the local Housing Committee was found guilty of improper conduct and sentenced to one year in prison for selling hundreds of council properties to a company run by one of Presscoats sons. A man who by keeping his mouth shut, within six months of being released, was back as chair of another local housing committee - dead man walking - little wonder I felt like the only Gazelle in the Lion's enclosure!
El Doucha Presscoat's eagerness to establish, organise, orchestrate and cover-over bullying, torture, persecution, harassment and assaults against any to stupid to tell the truth or believe in freedom of speech and democracy. With his brutal, ruthless four-by-four thick as a plank mentality, brain the size of that of a Horse Shoe Bat, personal charm of a cesspit and Harry Porter cloak of invisibility, he was just the man Tony Bear and Cardinal Ratsinger needed to cover over their brutal Inquisition against God's real truth. To create the networks of corruption, feral children and neighbours from Hell used routinely against 'truth tellers' who spoke out against the lies and corruption.
With the lightening fast reaction of a dead Slugn for passing egg men - I am the Walrus. I am the egg man. Cu, cu, ca chew. Being the only God given talents of a man who was down his local pub in Swansea when God gave out the brains and common human decency. But like all natural born con-artists, he cultivated them to his best ability and full financial potential amongst Catholicisms mad and bad in the car-boot sale of the century. For despite sinking slowly into the Slough of Despond, El Doucha Presscoat was born again to the continuing possibilities of power and wealth, he and his paid assassins still had a major role to play in O'Barmy and Clintin's Islamaphobic, war mongering 'what if?' fantasy politics. Especially if there was easy money to be made by the carrier-bag full and decent people to corrupt and destroy. Before, dressed in ermine and silk-stockings, finally taking his right full place in the House of Lords and Liars, having made Hull into a poisoners paradise.
To read the first of a two part extract from a profilers case book: the strange case of the invisible man (Washington Sniper) go to:
nemesis-ser.spaces.live.com/blog
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