From the late- and very-much-missed Rik Mayall (as Tory MP Alan B’stard):
“NHS waiting lists can be eradicated overnight by shutting down the health service, thereby killing poor people and wiping out poverty.”
Cruel? Yes. True? Also yes.
Month: April 2024
News Roundup
Starting off with some good news:
...and all he had to do was fire a bunch of government workers and close their departments. Jealous, I am.
...”about fucking time”? Well, I would have said that.
In Tech News:
...except when it comes to censoring conservative content and making it disappear from their search engine.
In the Lawn Order Dept.:
...in which we play the our always-popular “Guess the Race” game. Also keyword: Chicago.
And in The Great Cultural Assimilation Project©:
...to the surprise of absolutely nobody with any common sense, as we’ve noted before.
...and anywhere else, he’d be losing his mind permanently as his body temperature reaches that of the room; but not in Britishland.
...which somehow manages to combine both The Great Cultural Assimilation Project© and Global Warming Climate Cooling Change©.
And speaking of the unspeakable:
...which would concern me if I actually gave a flying fuck about the snowflakes’ opinion of me — especially as:
...well isn’t that special. Let’s send a few (hundred) thousand of them to live in Gaza, then.
And speaking of Unspeakable Wokism:
...in which we play our new “Guess The Sex of the CEO” game.
From the Sports Desk:
...is it just me, or does “German surfer” create the same cognitive dissonance as, say, “Swiss Naval Officer” or “Haitian chess player”?
In the Dept. of Redundancy Dept.:
...aren’t we glad that the U.S. doesn’t do titles?
In the Dept. of Health:
…
And, of course, there’s always some link-free 
And in a stroll down 
:
...well, let’s see what awaits the throbbing phalli of Teh Brits:
All together now:
♫ ♪ ♫ ♪ “Run Britannia! Britannia run away!” ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪
And that’s all the news anyone needs, I think.
Caption Competition #239
Your suggestions in Comments.
Careful Reflection
I’ve always had a soft spot for the Mercedes Geländewagen (“G-wagon/-wagen”) in pretty much all its versions because… well, because despite all its flaws (brick-like aerodynamics, gas-guzzling engine, tank-like ride blah blah blah) all wrapped up in an astronomical price:
I still want to own one. Badly. And even despite Mercedes having done away with a stick shift in the early 2000s (pppppbbbbbbbbbtttttt).
Maybe it’s because of all those flaws, or maybe it’s because at the end of the day, the ur-military design and engineering means that the G is pretty much indestructible and will take you to places that would overturn a Jeep, overpower a Range Rover and make even the old Toyota Landcruiser shake with fear.
Not that I myself would ever put any of that to the test, of course, because a.) I’m too old for such foolishness and b.) my idea of a “challenging ride” is negotiating the speed bumps in my apartment complex without becoming airborne or blowing out the suspension.
So why would I want a G-wagen? Just because. Because in a world of cars designed and built for today’s softer man, there is still an option to say, “Fuck it” and drive something that makes a statement — that statement being: “This asshole has too much money and is wasting it on a truck that costs almost as much as a Bentley.”
To which the typical G-wagen owner will reply, “Yeah? And so?”
It’s the ultimate middle digit directed at the Greens, the wealth-envious, the nannies at the NHSA and pretty much all the little petty totalitarian wannabes who want to tell us how to run our lives and prevent us from owning this and making our only choice that. And it’s always been that way, from earlier times:
1984
…to the early 2000s:
2005
…and today:
G55
…and if there’s a better picture that encapsulates the hulking body and brooding spirit of the G-wagen, I haven’t found it yet.
Needless to say, of course, Mercedes being no longer the militaristic- and engineering-focused company that it once was, has bowed in obeisance to the Global Cooling Climate Warming Change© hysteria, and will now produce… an electric G-wagen. Here’s a pic:
(yeah, it looks more like the new Ford Bronco and relaunched Land Rover than a G-wagen)
What amuses me is that Mercedes were going to call it the EQC or some such bollocks, but realized that making it sound like something Apple would make might be a bad idea — so they dropped that and called it the G580 (because the Duracell-powered engine produces 580hp and gets it to 60mph in under five seconds, whoop-dee-doo).
And this?
They’ve dropped the spare wheel to accommodate the massive, pythonesque charging cable that will be needed to recharge the Duracells every 285 miles — uh-huh — with no mention of how long said process will take. Of course.
By the way, the Duracell G-wagen weighs about 3.5 tons (6,800lbs) compared to the “normal” G-wagen’s 2.5 tons (5,500lbs).
And to complete the cynicism of the whole exercise, it has a CD player under the hood which creates a fake “G-wagen roar” instead of the typical electric engine’s “Thunberg whine”.
Here’s an overview of the thing.
Anyone who knows me will be able to predict that I regard this fucking piece of shit with something akin to sex with Rebel Wilson or Lizzo — i.e. no man should — and I haven’t even discussed its price yet. Okay, I will: $190,000 (compared to the G550’s $150k).
Considering, as I’ve said before, that the G-wagen I really want is the diesel-powered
1984 300GD
…with a manual gearbox and separate transfer case for serious 4WD activity, you may understand how far off the new Mercedes is from my radar screen.
And the fully-reconditioned- and rebuilt G-wagen above has a F.O.B. sticker price of $55,000. The hundred-odd grand in “savings” would be spent on a sports car like a second-hand low-mileage Mazda Miata:
…and guns like this H&H Cavalier.
Note that the Mazda has a manual transmission and the shotgun is a side-by-side: still more pointers that as far as I’m concerned, the modern world and all its whizz-bang technology can go and fuck itself.
Then And Now
As pointed out in this article, the United States has changed.
The national mood in the mid-twentieth century was very different from now.
-
- The United States was respected around the world — even if not necessarily liked.
- Technology was advancing faster than at any time in human history.
- Our cities were mostly orderly, safe, and clean.
- We believed there were few hardships which couldn’t be overcome with hard work. Opportunities seemed endless, as was our optimism.
- We were completely naïve about the danger posed by our own government.
And now, in the 21st century, there is a completely different worldview.
-
- The United States is a corrupt and impotent international laughingstock.
- We’ve become technically stunted. Replacing the Francis Scott Key bridge is expected to take three times longer than building the Golden Gate bridge almost a century ago.
- Our cities are becoming unlivable post-apocalyptic hellscapes.
- “Living the American dream” is no longer a middle-class expectation.
- We know that fear of our own government is a prudent mindset.
As the man said:
Oh, The Hardship
Must our children suffer any more? Yes, according to the headmaster of this school in Britishland:
A [school principal] has insisted that a 12-hour school day will give pupils ‘buckets full of endorphins’ – as the 7am to 7pm scheme comes into effect today.
Children at All Saints Catholic College in the affluent neighbourhood of Notting Hill, west London, will partake in a whole host of activities instead of spending the time at home on their devices when classes finish at 3.15pm.
This includes homework time and activity clubs from dodgeball, basketball, art, drama and cookery classes in a bid to break the cycle of smartphone ‘addiction’.
The controversial decision to introduce a 12-hour school day comes after the principal found ‘shocking’ things on confiscated mobile phones, including pupils blackmailing strangers and catfishing one another.
[He said:] ‘It’s pretty clear across the sector this is a real issue in terms of the vacuum that phones fill for children when they go home. There’s a crisis in attendance and if we look at the last 10 years or so there’s a depletion in services that are available to children after school. He said the school will ensure homework is done within that time, while also making sure that children take part in activities so they go home ‘with a bucket full of endorphins’.
Not to mention that the little shits should be too exhausted to get up to mischief.
Not that this is anything new, of course. Allow me to present a typical day in the life of a schoolboy at my old school, St. John’s College, back in the day:
6.40am: Rising bell
7.02am: Roll call
7.10am: Breakfast
7.35am: School prep (make beds, get books together for class, etc.)
8.00am: Morning Chapel
8.25am: Classes begin
1.25pm: Lunch
2.10pm: Reading and study (classrooms or dorm rooms)
2.50pm: Sports (compulsory; cricket, swimming, athletics, tennis, squash in summer; rugby or field hockey in winter)
4.15pm: Roll call
4.20pm: Free time, unless taken up by extra duties: sports, choir practice, punishment (detention, hard labor etc.)
Day scholars could leave for home after roll call or after extra duties. For boarders:
6.30pm: Dinner
7.10pm: First Prep (homework), in classrooms, with a 10-minute break at 8pm
8.10pm: Second Prep, until 9.15pm
Lights out: 9.45pm
If the daytime classroom hours seem to be less than in U.S. schools, remember the two hours’ prep each night, and allow me also to point out that Saturday mornings were the same as weekday mornings, and pupils were only free after lunch — “free”, that is, unless the school sports teams were engaged in matches against other area schools, and attendance was compulsory (roll call again!) at First Team matches.
Boarders stayed in school on Saturday nights, which were taken up with “club” activities such as Bridge, Drama, Chess, Debate, History, Photography, Geography, Literature, Film, Pioneer (nature/history studies) and so on. Membership of at least three clubs was compulsory. Then Sundays:
8.30am: Rising bell
8.55am: Roll call
9.00am: Sunday Chapel & Communion
10.00am: Boarders were excused to leave, with parents only
6.30pm: Roll call
6.35pm: Dinner
7.00pm: Evensong & Sermon, until 7.45pm
8.30pm: Lights out
…and the whole thing would start again the next day.
So when I read about “12-hour days”, I just giggle.
We were so exhausted (endorphins? pah) that we seldom had time to get up to mischief. Officially, that was the theory, anyway. The reality, especially for thugs like the Four Muscadels, was a little different.
And we didn’t even have phones. Wouldn’t have mattered if we did, because the school would have banned and confiscated them.
Just like our Brit headmaster has. In that, at least, we have something in common.