Sergei Lapdog and Valeri Getyouroksov composed themselves and stared, bashfully, at the floor like naughty schoolboys. Vladimir Pudding gestured with his XXL head at the UBER Table.

“It looks even longer,” thought Lapdog. “Has he had it extended?”

President Pudding was bare-torsoed and he wheezed slightly as he said: “Sit down and wait until I’ve finished my push-ups. He did two and announced triumphantly: “One hundred!”

“One hundred, my spotty, Soviet arse,” thought Getyouroksov, Chief of Staff of the Russian War Machine.

“Take a seat,” said Pudding, pointing at two chairs that were about halfway along the absurdly long, ornate table.

“Ok, thought Lapdog, “he’s not pleased with us but we’re not being sent off to a gulag.”

Pudding continued: “As you can see, I’m in fine physical shape. In fact, I have the body of a 40-year old gymnast, wouldn’t you say?”

Both men nodded so vigorously that Lapdog’s glasses fell off his nose and Getyouroksov’s wig shifted a little on his balding pate.

“I want to challenge Boris Johnson to a duel.”

The two men stopped nodding and gawped at their leader, waiting for him to laugh and say “Nah, not really.” No such comment was forthcoming.

Lapdog, the Foreign Minister, groaned inside: “Sweet Saint Veronica, he’s serious. And you know who’ll have to arrange it.”

“And,” continued the Tsar, “I want you to arrange it.”

“Umm, yes that’s a great idea…but a duel? Like, with pistols?”

“No, no Lapdog, I mean fighting…wrestling or boxing.”

Getyouroksov chimed in (and instantly regretted it): “How about Biden? He’s…”

“…a doddery, old git. He needs a rest after waking up in the morning.”

“Or Macron?” offered Lapdog.

“Macron?” questioned Pudding. “He’s a puffy meringue. I reckon his wife would be harder to beat than him. She looks a tough cookie. Why not Boris? He’s even got a Russian name; he’s perfect.”

“But he’s quite fit, I think,” said Lapdog.

“Ah come on. He’s like a big, chubby, blubbery baby,” scoffed the ex-KGB man.

“He cycles,” said Lapdog. “And he played rugby; that’s a tough sport.”

“Oh yeah, against little kids. I ride wild stallions and wrestle bears,” growled Pudding.

“Sure you do,” thought Getyouroksov, wondering why he was being involved in all this.

Pudding pointed at him: “And you, Valeri, are going to challenge the head of NATO to a duel.”

Getyourosksov felt his stomach slide down to his socks. “Oh come on,” he mumbled.

Lapdog thought: “Please, please, please don’t tell me to challenge Ursula von der Leyen to a duel.”

The Tsar of all the Russias, Vladimir Pudding, got up from his extra-long table in the Kremlin and walked to the other end to get some fruit, a journey that took about 5 minutes. Being of rather short stature, he had to stand on tippy-toes to reach a banana, which he peeled and scoffed noisily.

He pressed the button on his intercom and barked out: “Svetlana, tell my Foreign Minister and Supreme Commander of the Serf…I mean the Imperial… the Army of the Russian Federation, to come and see me immediately.”

“Certainly, Tsar Pudding. At once.”

“Thanks Svety and, remember, you only call me ‘Tsar’ in private, ok?”

“Can I call you by your special name?” asked Svetlana.

“Go on then.”

“Tsarry, Tsarry Night.” It was a private joke.

Unbeknownst to most, Vladimir Pudding got into Don McLean in his KGB days. He’d played the American Pie single so many times, it now seemed strange to hear it without the break in the middle when you have to flip the 45 over for Part II [younger readers will now be stroking their chinny-chin-chins in puzzlement].

“Helter skelter, in the summer swelter…” he sang-muttered as he took his shirt off, ready to pretend to do some exercise, while listening to reports from the front.

Velary Getyouroksov and Sergei Lapdog shuffled along the corridor leading to the President’s office and Lapdog murmured: “Oh vey, we’re going to have to sit at that ridiculously long table again.” To which Getyouroksov replied: “They’re calling it the ‘UBER Table now? Cos you have to take an UBER…”

“…to get from one end to the other. I had heard. The distance that he makes you sit from him corresponds to how pissed-off he is with you. The far end means the firing squad is assembled and fully-loaded.”

“But he mumbles and I can barely hear him. Do you think he’s ok?”

Lapdog looked at him, quizzedly: “Ok? You mean today or always?”

“Well, you hear rumours. I mean, just look at his head…it’s getting bigger on a daily basis. It was normal size a few years ago and now it’s swelling. It’s like a big zit.”

“He’s got a lot on his mind,” said Lapdog, smirking. “You’re right. It makes his eyes look really close together. Like something out of a Picasso painting.”

“Looks like a potato to me,” said Getyouroksov.

“He could be a Whatsapp icon…”

“Or Boss Baby,” said Lapdog, and they both sniggered like Muttley.

Their shuffling stopped as they found themselves at the office of Svetlana; the person who had the ear of the President. What she was doing with one of his ears is another story. The absurdly high double doors to the Pudding Chamber loomed before them, like the North Face of the Eiger [the South Face is a doodle, by the way].

They both smiled, hopefully, at Svetlana.

“He’s exercising but you can go on in.”

They both ushered the other to go in first but neither wanted to. They made exasperated faces at each other and then tried to go in at the same time, Laurel and Hardy-style, shoulder-to-shoulder as they squeezed through the door, and popped out into the Pudding Chamber, all a-flistered and a-flustered.

Their President rolled his eyes to the ornate ceiling.

A few Swedish right-wing extremists decide to burn copies of the Quran/Koran. An offensive act (although not yet carried out) to Moslems that brought about a violent reaction. Understandable, given that they consider it to be the holy word of God. The Saudis condemned the planned burning of the books, citing “deliberate abuse of the holy Quran by some extremists in Sweden, and provocation and incitement against Muslims” and Iraq and Iran summoned the Swedish ambassadors to lodge complaints.

However, there was no condemnation of the violence by Moslem protestors that resulted in 26 Swedish policemen being injured. Now, what happens when people protest in Saudi Arabia, Iraq and Iran? Remember what happened to Jamal Khashoggi when he criticised the Saudi ruling family? He was tortured to death. The water shortage protests in Iran in 2021 were met with brutality, with over a 100 people arrested and around 15 deaths. The 2019-2021 protests against the Iraqi government resulted in around 1,000 deaths, over 4,000 injured and nearly 5,000 arrests.

Sweden must be such a horrible place to live. One wonders why the Moslem population decides to stay there instead of returning to a more welcoming Islamic country.

By Royal Footie Decree, England has officially changed its name to Pengland.

Players have been instructed to try to intentionally miss their penalties from now on, in the hope that this will produce an opposite result.

They will also be required to use their ‘wrong’ foot to take a penalty.

Failing that, they are recommended to head the ball at the goal.

The first player to take a penalty will now be the goalkeeper.

Any Penglish player who misses a penalty will be put into the stocks in the Brent Cross shopping centre and pelted with 3-day old Chicken Tikka Masala.

Any Penglish player who hippity-skippity-hops and then misses the penalty will be made to wander the land forever, relating his tale of woe to all and sundry.

Any player who, by some strange quirk of fate, manages to actually score a penalty, will be knighted on the spot by the reigning monarch and be allowed to use the Royal Barge on Mondays.

Any Pengland manager who, by some strange quirk of fate, manages to actually win a penalty shootout, will be given the title of Lord High Penal Executioner, will have a statue erected in his/her honour and a fly-on-the-wall documentary will be made about said manager. The fly on the wall will be awarded the FBE.

Any opposition player who fails to score a penalty against Pengland will be awarded a Royal Pension of 300 groats of oats per annum and will given a damned good snogging by a royal of his choice (corgis included).

Any opposition goalkeeper who saves a penalty against Pengland will be officially deemed to be an Enemy of the Realm and, if found to be on Penglish soil, will be apprehended and covered in pig’s excrement before being made to play three-and-in with Vinny Jones.

News coming in is that the upcoming elections in Mexico have been cancelled, and the reason is that all the candidates have been murdered. Yes, all of them. Not one single one…oh, just a moment, there is a candidate for mayor of a small town in the state of Guerrero called Montón de Cuerpos. Our man on the ground has managed to track the craz…candidate down so we’re going over now for a live interview with the damned foo…errm brave citizen, who apparently wishes to remain anonymous:

Correspondent Ed Winchester (that name rings a bell): Mr. Anonymous, I’m an American so I’m not required to speak a foreign language. I presume you speak English.

Mr Anonymous: You da reporterr in Mejico an’ you don’ espeak Espanish? You mus’ be wid de Foxy News.

Ed : I took a 2-hour course in Guaajadala…Guadalajad…Gualada…in Mexico. Anyway, you wish to remain anonymous.

Anon: Yeah, ah ain’ estoopid. Ah tell you mah name an’ dey kill mah famlee. Dey dig up dah…wassa word? Ah yah, dah bodez of mah grandmoms an’ dey kill dem agin.

Ed: You must be fearful of reprisals.

Anon: Wha’? Repri…wha’?

Ed: A kind of revenge attack…err, vengeance…

Anon: Ah, venganza! Sure, Ah ain’ estoopid.

Ed: It seems like you will be mayor for the lack of other candidates.

Anon: You askin’ me questyons o tellin’ me stuff?

Ed: It’s the way we reporters ask questions nowadays.

Anon: I wanna make Mejico great agin…lika your Troomp.

Ed: That would be difficult.

Anon: I make all de gringos here to get de visa.

Ed: Uhh?

Anon: I mean dey live ‘ere indocumentados, y’know. Dey illegals. Why you make all dis fuss abou’ de illegals mejicanos in Estados Unidos uh? Niney percen’ of da gringos dey live ‘ere with no visa. I make dem pay multa.

Ed: That’s a fine, I think.

Anon: Yes, very fine. Very good.

Ed: Arrm…yes, anyway. But your only a candidate for mayor and…

Anon: ‘Your’ is de possessive adjectivo, maan. You mean ‘you’re’, de contracshon. Why all you gringos get it wrong?

Ed: Arrm, yeah.

Anon: Ah would take back de lan’ that de gringos took from oos, like California an’ Tejas. Mucho money in California, y’know. All de fruit n’ Hollywood n’ shit. ‘An New Mejico; get doz Heisenberg barriles o’ cash.

Ed: You mean invade the USA? Oops, that was a question…you can’t do that. The USA is the most powerful nation in the world. We’re the greatest.

Anon: Maybe you de greates’ but you also de dumbes’. You make de aliados…err allies wid de countries an’ den you invade ’em. An wid de real bad guys, you put de factories dere an’ you make ’em rich. You is strange people.

Ed: What? No, we don’t do that…well ok, sometimes we…look, you can’t invade us. We’re too strong. Our military will crush you.

Anon: We don’ invade you. We’re not stoopid. We tell de mejicanos allá to stop de work, like in da film. You get de paralysis, y’know.

Ed: But that won’t defeat us.

Anon: We get da cartel cabrones to go dere in de tuneles they make an’ boom…you fooked gringo. Dey de best fighters, like el Canelo. ‘E beat everybody.

Ed: That’s ridiculous. They wouldn’t stand a chance…hey, who are these guys? Hey, what are you doing?

Anon: Now you ask de questyons. ‘Ere’s a questyon for you; ‘ow you say ‘rescate’ in English?

Ever since seeing that infamous interview with Terry ‘They Are Laughing At You David’ Wogan, I have always been prepared to give David Icke the benefit of the conspiracy theory. Whether you can say that all his ‘predictions’ have come true (we have never been barcoded) is debatable; you only have to look at how technology has leapt and bounded over the last 20-odd years to come to the inevitable conclusion that we are being increasingly dominated by it and that we are becoming increasingly prepared to have this technology somehow ‘ingrained’ into us. You can argue that Icke looked at the situation and saw which way the wind would blow…as anyone with half a brain could have done.

“Bill Gates created viruses to infect his software and, with this experience, he is creating organic viruses to infect our bodies.”

“Adolf Hitler escaped from Berlin and later fathered Angela Merkel, Theresa May and Michelle Obama.”

“The vaccine that Bill Gates is developing for COVID-19 reprograms cells with synthetic nanotech viruses.”

“The Queen of England is the biggest trafficker of heroin in the world.”

“Oprah Winfrey is trafficker of children.”

“COVID-19 is a hoax; it doesn’t exist.”

“George Soros is financing the George Lloyd protests.”

“George Lloyd didn’t die. It’s a false flag operation.”

“Justin Trudeau is a reptilian and has hired the Chinese military to take control of Canada.”

We can attribute two of the above to David Icke; which ones? Whatever he has or hasn’t said, the majority of his followers have taken a whole bottle of complete bloody nonsense pills and are uploading any video that they find on youtube to their Ickian conspiracy groups on Facebook. Question them on the veracity of their comments and uploads and you are met with a barrage of insults, with the milder comments telling you to “Do your own research” – which means watching the same youtube videos that they uploaded to Facebook.

Mark Zuckerberg comes in for a lot of vitriol; strange given that, by using FB, these people who would like to see his reptilian head boiled in oil are simply making him even wealthier by using his site. Oh by the way, he is a member of the Rockefeller family – did you know that? No, you didn’t because it just ain’t true. Do some very simple “research” (i.e. google it) and you can find Mark’s family tree. “Could be false” you counter – yep, but anything could and we would then have to question EVERYTHING that is found via Google or any search engine. Adolf Hitler was Michelle Obama’s father? Look that up and you will find people telling you that is true.

Adrenochrome – in case you haven’t heard of it, it is a chemical compound that is produced by the oxidation of adrenaline. You can produce it in a lab but, apparently, the most effective way is to torture children and then drain their adrenal glands to obtain this drug of choice of the Satanic pedophiles who dominate Hollywood, politics, the media and the whole world…which could all be true. After all, many ex-child stars in the acting and music biz have attested to the pedophile rings that infest these industries. But, and it’s a pretty large ‘but’, do you really think that Madonna is one of these, that her fountain of eternal youth is really a spout of adrenochrome…do you?

I guess we believe in conspiracy theories because they are far more sinister and entertaining than the truth but the problem with believing in so many cranky ones is that they take credence away from the real ones. 9/11: if you were to present all the evidence of it being an inside job to a jury, Jon Bin Jovi Laden would have been exonerated in about 10 seconds. Building 7 controlled collapsing like an aging Las Vegas casino after a small fire raged for about half an hour was enough evidence on its own, never mind the fact that the Pentagon ‘staff’ managed to clear away the wreckage of an airliner quicker that you can say ‘Couldn’t even fly a Cessna’. Hell, they couldn’t even be bothered to paint the planes that flew into the Towers to make them look like real airliners. My abiding memory of that tumultuous day was the frozen puzzlement on the face of G Dubbya when he was told the news: “Jeez, they went and did it without telling me”, was what that expression said to me. The poor schmuck didn’t know what to do with himself so he just sat there and looked exactly what he was; helpless. That’s why the vote in Florida was rigged to get him past the presidential post; so Al Gore was shoved aside in favour of a more compliant and easily-manipulated Prez.

Which, rather strangely, leads us on the dearly departed Donald J. Trump – George Walker Bush actually criticised his fellow Republican from his Tex-Mex hacienda; something glossed over by Fox ‘News’ but could we have interpreted that put-down as a ringing endorsement for conspiracy theorists of The Magnifcently Coiffured One from Mar-a-Lago? US politics is a strange creature, with a more appropriate location for the Capitol being downtown Burbank…I’m sure that US politicians spend 90% of their working lives in the make-up room.

Joseph Biden? I just want the cameras to pan downwards so we can see the little wheels attached to his shoes. One day, he’ll be in the middle of a stumbly-fumbly speech and he’ll go quiet…we’ll wait…and we’ll wait…and Kamala will be sworn in as the first female (and…no, I won’t say it) Prezzie, as was planned all along But that’s just a conspiracy theory.

Heard that one before? Of course you have. You hear it on a daily basis, to the point where you might have said it about yourself: “That’s not who I am.” Well, if you did or said it, then of course it’s who you are. You weren’t temporarily taken over by some malign spirit that forced you to do or say something out of character, so shaaad uuup. It’s become a convenient, stock phrase to use to exonerate yourself of any wrongdoing.

Sarah Huckabee Sanders, the ex-mouthpiece of ex-President Trump, launched her campaign to be the Republican candidate for governor of Arkansas by stating, ever-so-Americanly: “We’ve seen violence in our streets, at a Congressional baseball practice and our Capitol. This is not who we are as Americans. To remain free, we must have law and order and resolve our differences peacefully.”

So, sweet, little Sarah, Trump’s shield against the press barrage, is telling us that violence is not the American Way, that it’s not who they are. Let’s see if that’s true, shall we?

As has been shoved down our throats ad Mel Gibson nauseum, the USA was founded after the heroic struggle for ‘freedom’ from the tyranny of Edward Longshanks…err, hang on…from British imperial tyranny, thereby inventing Democracy and the Masonic Pursuit of Happiness and, at the same time, drawing up a constitution the likes of which had never been seen before and would never be seen again. To top this all off, an electoral system was invented, the likes of which would never be understood. George Washington did a great job, even with wooden teeth.

So, after an understandably violent beginning to the US of A, peace reigned in the valley for the rest of….naaah! No sooner had the ink dried on the constitution and the US army went up against the might of the Cherokee nation. From then on, a certain pattern emerged: the Northwest Indian War, the Quasi War, the 1st Barbary War, Tecumseh’s War, the War of 1812, the Creek War, the 2nd Barbary War, the 1st Seminole War, the Texas-Indian Wars (which caused the extinction of some tribes), the Arikara War, the Winnebago War (I would like to have seen a bunch of winnebagos charging each other), the Blackhawk War, the Texas Revolution, the 2nd Seminole War, The US-Mexico War, the Cayuse War, the Apache Wars, the Puget Sound War, the Rogue River Wars, the 3rd Seminole War (they did like a scrap, didn’t they?), the Yakima War, the 2nd Opium War (why not the 1st?), the Utah War, the Navajo Wars, the 1st and 2nd Cortina War (they fought over curtains?), the Paiute War, the American Civil War…phew, and we’re only up to 1861, a mere 78 years after the final defeat of the Dastardly Brits at Yorktown.

Ok, a deep breath and we’re into Round 2: the Yavapai Wars, the Dakota War, the Colorado War, the Shimonoseki War, the Snake War, the Powder River War, Red Cloud’s War, the Comanche War, the Modoc War, the Red River War, las Cuevas War, the Great Sioux War, the Buffalo Hunters’ War, the Nez Perce War, Bannock War, the Cheyenne War, the Sheepeater War (what?), Victorio’s War, the White River War, the Pine Ridge War, the Garza Revolution, the Yaqui Wars, the 2nd Samoan Civil War, the Spanish-American War, the Phillipine-American War, the Moro Rebellion, the Boxer Rebellion, the Crazy Snake Rebellion, the Border War, the Banana Wars (seriously), the Occupation of Nicaragua, the Bluff War, the Occupation of Verzcruz, the Occupation of Haiti, the Occupation of the Dominican Republic, World Wa-ar I (sung to the tune of ‘5 go-old rings’), the Russian Civil War, the Last Indian Uprising, World War II, Operation Beleaguer, the Korean War, the Laotian Civil War, the 1st Taiwan Straits Crisis, the Lebanon Crisis, the Bay of Pigs Invasion, the Simba Rebellion, the Vietnam War, the Communist Insurgency in Thailand, the Korean DMZ Conflict, the Dominican CIvil War, the Insurgency in Bolivia, the Cambodian Civil War, the War in South Zaire, the Intervention in Lebanon, the Invasion of Grenada, the Gulf of Sidra Incident, the Bombing of Libya, the Tanker War, the Invasion of Panama, the Gulf War, the 1st US Intervention in the Somali Civil War, the Bosnian War, the Intervention in Haiti, the Kosovo War, Operation Infinite Reach, the War in Afghanistan, the Invasion of Iraq, the Iraq War, Drone strikes in Pakistan, the 2nd US Intervention in the Somali Civil War, Operation Ocean Shield, International intervention in Libya, Operation Observant Compass, the American-led Intervention in Iraq, the American-led Intervention in Syria, the Yemeni Civil War, the American Intervention in Libya…and rest. Well, just a breather really as many other ‘actions’ should get a mention in dispatches, such as the overthrow of the democratically elected governments of Iran, Guatemala, Chile and the brutal dictatorships that followed, amongst many others, the ‘dirty’ wars in Argentina and Mexico and the equipping of the Contras in Nicaragua; in short, a plethora of proxy wars, insurrections and coup d’etats. Add to all this the thousands of Americans who are killed every year in gun-related violence and Columbine-style massacres.

It must be really comforting for Americans to know that violence is not who they are.

A different world order is being mooted for us after the coronavirus has been given a good thrashing and sent to bed without any dinner. This one will see us treating the planet in a much kinder, less consuming and materialisitc way. After all, we survived without jumping into our cars to drive 3 blocks for a pizza, so why not carry on with that? And look, the price of gas/petrol has dropped because of the lack of demand; great! Let’s keep that one going.

We have seen how the planet has recovered without the usual human onslaught. Nature soon returns to reclaim the constructed world; wild boar roaming the streets of Venice, dolphins frollicking in the Trevi Fountain, deer strolling along Pall Mall, Godzilla not destroying a Japanese city. After the lockdown is over, will we continue with this? Will we show more restraint to our beleaguered planet, the one that we need for our surviaval? Like hell we will. A few might, but the vast majority will simply do what we were doing before and the poor, old natural world can just go and suck on an exhaust pipe. Come on, admit it; if you have the money, you’ll embark on an orgy of excessive consumption. Spend, spend, SPEND and party like it’s 1999!

So, the cycle will continue and then something else will occur to cull some of the population, because that’s what it comes down to. No matter how many wars we have, or how pandemics or natural disasters thin us out, every second the world has 3 or 4 more mouths to feed and to provide with a car on their 17th birthday. The car might well be electric, but extracting the lithium causes untold damage to the environment and disposing of the big battery after 100,000 miles will sink the planet in an overwhelming morass of yet more toxic waste.

No matter how much we reduce our carbon or lithium footprint, it won’t be enough. It can never be enough as long as the aim of every country in the world is economic growth, becaause economic growth means producing and selling more and more things, the majority of which we simply don’t need.

What can we do? We’re screwed, aren’t we? Yep, unless we do the unthinkable and get rid of money. “What? Are you nutz? How can we possible get rid of money? It’s what makes the world go around, isn’t it? How would we buy things? How…err, what would our jobs be for? What would we get for working? It’s…not, it just cannot happen. It cannot be done!” But could it? Yes, the invention of money a few milennia ago made perfect sense. It alleviated the need to take your 2 cows to market to barter them for 20 sacks of grain. A great idea, yes? Well, up to a point. When it became apparent that everything and everyone now had a monetary value, all it took to assume power was to grab the lion’s share of the money. So, the upper echelons society could now be fabulously privileged and establish themselves as kings and emperors, convincing us of the Great Lie that they were ordained by God to rule over us, which justified them taking control over the land and giving huge tracts of it to the people who would maintain them in their positions of power; the gentry and the clergy, the latter keeping us in our place by propogating the lie that we are not actually equal, that God controls our every action and that He moves in mysterious ways. These ways may be ludicrous and malevolantly violent but we simply must accept them.

Then the small group of French knights came along and invented a system whereby you could get a letter of credit, or a cheque, to cash in when the wealthy pilgrim made it to the Holy Land and get the necessary funds. A banking system. With that, the sky was the limit, or rather that there was simply no limit. Then, the very bankers who ran the system gave themselves the ability to lend out 10 times more money than they actually had in deposits so they could charge interest on absolutely nothing…well, numbers in a ledger. What a wonderful, get-rich-quick system! The filthy rich just got filthier.

So here we are in 2020, with a handful of people having more money than 50% of the world’s population and with enough spending power to make sure that everyone kowtows to their demands. And their principal demand is that we work like machines, doling out just enough money to buy the things that they have brainwashed us into believing that we need. They establish laws to make sure we are kept in line, rewarding the people who directly control us; i.e. the judges, lawyers, top policemen, politicians, etc. with enough baubles to assure their allegiance. They have created nations to give us the idea that we are all in it together, so that we obey en masse as obeying is all for the national good, so that we pay taxes for them so that they can play around with this huge chunk of money, so that when a war is called for, enough of us swallow the nationalistic line and go and die or get horribly maimed or psychologically crippled in the defence of ‘freedom’.

A secondary school Economics student could have seen the 2008 financial crisis coming, so why couldn’t highly-paid economists, financial analysts and bankers see it? They ignored it because they were making too much money from it.  That crisis destroyed many people’s lives but,for the hugely wealthy, it was an opportunity to become even wealthier. It should have taught us that we cannot continue to live under a system that can be so easily manipulated by a few extraordinarily rich people/family dynasties. The coronavirus pandemic, whether it is real or not, whether it was created in a Chinese lab or not, whether it really has killed so many people or not, should ram that basic truth home to us. Do you honestly think that it was necessary to close so many small businesses when Amazon had to hire 10,000 staff in order to meet demand? Now it is for us to decide if we want to continue being dangled like pathetic, little puppets, scrabbling around in the dirt for the scraps from the table, or whether we want to be a true community with the common interest taking precedent over personal greed.

It can be done, not by violent revolution as that only throws up leaders who will be financed and controlled by the same elite. It needs a revolution in our way of thinking; not to be led like lambs to the slaughter. If you really think that it cannot be done, then read about the Venus Project. As the saying goes, man is only limited by the power of his imagination, so imagine a world where people work for what is necessary, for what can give us all a decent standard of living. Crime exists because the dominant factor in the world is money and the need and greed for it. A utopian world could exist if enough people want it and strive to make it happen, but money must go…with it, the cycle of poverty, wars, slavery and crime will just go on and on, until the world simply has enough and wipes a large part of humanity off the face of it. The world needs a revolution of the present system that places the material far above the spiritual…a human revolution as it has been termed.

 

 

The elegaic ‘The Last Waltz’, the raw, chopped liver slice-of-Little Italy-life ‘Mean Streets’, the shocking, bloodied-finger-to-the-temple Taxi Driver, the agonising scream that is ‘After Hours’, the unsettling, underrated and influential ‘King of Comedy’, the cinematic masterpiece that is ‘Raging Bull’, the ferocious, shoe-shine boxly watchable ‘Goodfellas’, the Paul Newmanesque ‘Color of Money’, the glitzy, underbelly glory that is ‘Casino’, the immense ‘Gangs of New York’ the slightly deteriorating but slam dunkingly watchable ‘Wolf of Wall Street’…what the friggin’ hell happened Marty? Eh? Whaddya nutz? Whyddya wanna make a mook ova movie? Gathering the acting clan together again may have been sound on paper, but digitally youthing their faces was a monumental mistake, especally as you inexplicably ignored the fact that their body movements were those of doddery pensioners. De Niro staggered his way through the movie like a Thunderbirds puppet, and that shop owner went down like a professional footballer when the House Painter barely touched him with a stilted, slow-motion jab. The scene was risable and blew a large, credibility hole in the movie. Joe Pesci…well, he hasn’t aged well, has he? As a young man in the movie, he looked old, craggy and saggy and, as a old man, he looked like a fossil. Al Pacino? Maybe I was too influenced by seeing Jack Nicholson in the role, but Al just didn’t cut the Jimmy Hoffa mustard for me. Surely a different actor would have been better, maybe Stephen Graham, who actually looks more like Hoffa than Pacino. The real Hoffa came across as a bustling, little bundle of energy, but Pacino looked like he was in need of a retirement community in Florida. And Harvey Keitel’s role; too short and too pointless.

As to the actual movie, it was a yawning trip down memory lane, a rehashed flashbacker that simply reminded us how old the actors were. Again, we saw a bunch of thugs doing thuggish things, but unlike the tasty triumvirate in Goodfellas, there was no humour in anything they did, no memorable scenes that will go down in move folklore and no sparkling dialogue. The look of the film was fine; something that Scorcese has always done magnificently well, but the whole thing moved along like a clapped-out, old banger, getting to the finish line in three and a half hours, when two and a half would have been so much better. How many wives’ smoke stops did we have to witness to get the point? It had about as much life as…well, Joe Pesci. Surely, Marty, there was a whole host of actors that you could have considered for the younger versions instead of digitalising the usual suspects. Look what De Niro did for Godfather II.

What I found incredible about the reviews is that, by and large, they were good. There were criticisms of the digital faces, but they simply lauded el Maestro Marty, as if it were sacrilegious to adversely criticise his work. Even the choice of music was predictable and unimaginitive where, normally, it’s a standout aspect of this films.

The one redeeming feature was Ray Romano; he actually came across as being human. Why haven’t other directors recognised his talents? Maybe one of the Mexican wave of directors could give him a movie to star in. And maybe Marty could take a look at the films that have been made by del Toro, Iñárritu and Cuarón over the past few years to boost his sadly flagging creativity. Or he could just retire.

 

 

 

Let’s try something here. Now, lie back and relax, starting from your toes, moving up through your feet and ankles, now your calves and thighs…everything relaxed, no stress, no tension. Now let that warm, soothing feeling rise up through your tummy and your chest and down through your arms and hands, Your neck and shoulders are being bathed in a amber glow of Lindt chocolate smoothness. Your head is floating in a pool of honeyed manna. You are still; you are calm; the world has quietened down and come to a gentle halt.

Now, wake the f*** up and smell the maple nut crunch!! Barely is the General Election done and dusted and, if I may say so, why all the great shock about Labour’s abject performance at the polls? A) it was already predicted in opinion polls and B) Jeremy Corbyn. Many in the party were blaming him for the debacle but come on – you knew that he was unpopular with voters so why did you not ditch the Islington Left of Leninist, who, as PM, would have nationalised the nation in its entirety, had the Royal Family summarily executed at Ekaterinborough and ordered their corgis donated for pit bull training.

So, what is the first thing that Boris the Bounder does after his stonking victory? He goes and bollocks it all up by announcing that there will be no extension to the transitional period and the UK will detach itself completely from the Europä Überstomperabteilung, come what may, by the 31st December 2020. Oh Boris, why, why, WHY? You don’t have to put all that enormous pressure on the trade deal negotiators. The important thing is not just to leave the EU but to do so with deal that will be of the maximum benefit to the UK economy. So many small business depend on trade with the EU countries and if they have to pay tariffs and go through the customs rigmarole, this will make them less attractive/more costly for EU companies. What the hell difference does it make if it’s the end of December 2020 or the end of April 2021? More than 4 years after the referendum, would a few of months more really hurt? After all that has happened; the endless arguments, debates, votes, wranglings, deals, court cases, Bercows, DUPs, SNPs, LibDems, Rees-Moggs…we will still be at the Gates of the Dreaded No-Deal, something that, allegedly, no-one wants…or do they? If it’s such a terrible scenario, why in God’s name is Boris ready, willing and able to risk it when it’s simply not necessary?

You may be familiar with a video that was circulating, accusing Nigel Farage of playing down the chances of the leave vote winning, leading up to the referendum, in order that his chums in the City could make a killing in the futures and currency exchange markets when the results of the referendum were announced. Strike a chord? The pound leapt like a spawing salmon on the news of Boris’ landslide victory and then slumped like a losing FA Cup finalist on the news of the no extension. So, you can bet your bottom dollar/pound/euro/bitcoin that a chunk of ex-public schoolpersons/ex-barrow boys made enough on that little currency blip to pay for their Pimms for the next decade.

Boris is giving his negotiating team about a year to come up with a free trade deal. More than enough time, you may be thinking, but let’s have a gander at the much-mentioned Canada deal that was signed with the EU. It began at a study that was released in 2008 and negotiations started in 2009; an agreement in principle was signed in 2013 and negotiations concluded in 2014. The trade agreement was officially presented in 2014 and then the business of the final wording and translation into the different languages of the EU was inititated, with some parts of the agreement being provisionally implemented only in 2017; 8 years from negotiations to partial implementation. Remember that this agreement covers goods, not services and what makes up the majority of the UK’s commercial dealings? The services industries.

So, a comprehensive trade deal all agreed upon, signed and implemented in a year between the UK and the EU? Maybe, if they work on it at light-year speed, 24/7 with no time off for good behaviour, but it’s still a virtually impossible ask. Trade deals are complicated to put it mildly and while the EU wants a deal with the UK, certain conditions will be sacrosanct. The EU and every country knows full well that Boris is gagging to sign a trade deal and, therefore, has no ‘hand’ – he will blather on about Britain being great and a world leader in…something, and being…well, British, but everyone knows that, although the UK is a pretty wealthy country in general with aging nukes, its overall influence in the world is minimal.

If Boris is so intent on making it really tough to agree a trade deal with the EU in the time allowes, is it that he is really angling for a trade deal with the USA and other countries instead of the EU? A NAFTA, with the A for ‘Atlantic’ instead of ‘American’? Trump has already made it clear that a deal with the EU, and all its restrictions, would damage the chances of a comprehensive deal with the USA. Or Boris could simply be hanging the threat of a no or limited deal over the EU in the hope of a bargaining chip for giving the UK as favourable deal as possible in the very limited time-frame. Dangerous Boris, very dangerous. Playing chicken with a juggernaut when you are driving a Nissan Micro is pretty dumb. If things don’t work out as planned, it could all blow up in your pasty, rotund boat race and you’ll be left with a lot of egg on it….and the UK in the doggie doo-doo.