Thursday, 2 July 2015
Well, we're staging a comeback, I can tell you! Me and my mates have recently taken to finding the cities with the biggest accumulation of pavement rubbish in the UK, and moving in. I myself have loitered on office windows and fixed daydreamy office types with a stern glare, before hopping in through the window, leaving a calling card on the telephone dock, going "Blarp!" and then hopping off again.
I've also noticed that pigeons congregate in these areas. I detest the way they pooh everywhere, so we've taken to covering their poxy little excretory offerings with more generous portions of our own.
Left a decomposing starfish on the windowsill of No. 98. Yep, we're staging a comeback!
Tuesday, 23 June 2015
As with so many things in life, I am presently engulfed with requests, by post and by telephone, by Twitter and Facebook to make some sort of statement about the financial scandals presently besetting our national game. Of course, the Twitter and Facebook elements are dealt with by Mrs Hatchett and my secretarial staff, but I do try to respond personally whenever I can, especially to grammatically correct letters.
I have stated many times that my first love is cricket – no stranger itself to corruption at an international level – but still imbued with a sense of fair play on village greens throughout our similarly green and pleasant land, I think.
Football, with its crude chanting and essentially tribal nature has never attracted me although I do understand that it is loved by many millions of ordinary folk. Vive la difference! Not everybody likes brass rubbing.
So you might imagine my dismay upon discovering, with the help of the young man with wire in his ear, via his electronic tablet that football’s world governing body FIFA is shot through with bribery and corruption. Mr Blatter seems to be a pleasant grandfatherly figure, but the young man with the wire in his ear tells me that he is in fact, “one swindling, dishonest ***tard.” He immediately apologized for his linguistic slip, but went on to applaud the decision of the United States of America’s Federal Bureau of Investigation to prosecute several high ranking FIFA officials. I am persuaded of the veracity of these prosecutions not least by the appearance of the FBI agents involved – all clean-cut soberly attired men and women who are so obviously upstanding and honest. Worryingly, FIFA officials also wear suits.
I did ask for the young man with the wire in his ear’s opinion of this scandal, especially the role of Americans in investigating what is usually regarded as a European sport. His answer, that it was to deflect world attention away from US drone strikes, collateral damage, Palestine, Iran, Ukraine and ISIS, was depressing.
So, dear reader, you catch me at a time of indecision. Do I go on record with a strongly worded statement of disapproval or instead, words of forgiveness? What would Jesus have done? Bearing in mind Our Lord’s reaction to moneylenders in the Temple, namely His pitching them out into the street, I doubt that He would have much time for Mr Blatter and his associates. Unofficially, I have it from the young man with the wire in his ear, via his similarly equipped American colleagues, that they, the Americans are going to “lock the ***gers up” Again, I chided his use of swear words, but find myself agreeing with him. I bring to mind the words of Saint Brian in his Letters to the Linoleums (Lino. 3.23)… "And if thou stickest thy head even above the parapet and nicketh someone else’s dosh, the wrath of God will surely descend upon you, even as a ton of bricks.”
And of course, alongside all of that is the monetary crisis in Greece and the possibility of that country being drummed out of the Eurozone. So often my window on the world, the young man with the wire in his ear tells me that the Greeks have only themselves to blame because, “they didn’t pay their ***ding taxes." . Personally, I think Greece seems a very pleasant country – my lady wife is especially fond of something called retsina – and the Greeks have retained some very interesting cross-dressing presidential guards. It would be a pity to lose all that to German conformity.
Tuesday, 19 May 2015
Justin here and, you know, in the aftermath of a dramatic General Election, my thoughts go out to those whose wishes were dashed, whose hopes came to nothing, and who tasted the bitterness of defeat so publicly. It would not surprise me to discover that many are presently being treated for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
My high office prevents me from taking sides in political contests which, let’s face it, deal in the main with things secular, whereas as Archbishop, my concerns must be spiritual.
I am sure that when the victor, Mr David Cameron visited Her Majesty, the occasion was especially cordial. So often my window on the world, the young man with the wire in his ear, tells me that he is reliably informed that the Monarch is in fact a Tory. This small detail alone must have lubricated the cogs of conversation no end.
But Christian charity has to turn her face towards the losers. I have decided to invite Mr Miliband and Mr Clegg to the Palace so that I might offer what solace I can in this difficult time. Mr Balls too may feel the need for spiritual guidance after losing his seat to a young lady who, I believe, is just twelve and three-quarters. And possibly adding insult to injury, there will now follow leadership contests for the main three parties. What some may regard as the fourth – UKIP – has already done this with its leader, Mr Farage, stepping down then up again within hours. Hearing this on the news, my lady wife, always one for the bon mot, the joke, the play on words, remarked, “Ah, Mr Fromage – The Big Cheese – he’s back!” Oh, how we laughed! I confess I very nearly choked on my macaroon.
More difficult to grasp, for an apolitical creature like myself, is the sudden influx of MPs from north of the border. Frankly, I do not understand this. I had thought that the Scots had their own Parliament. Are their any English MPs in the Scots Parliament? This formidable group is led by an especially shrill young lady. A Scots Nationalist, no less.
So there you have it; my - some would say - inadequate impressions of what has been a turbulent time. But I look forward now to a short period of peace and quiet before the Opening of Parliament – a time when I can pop down to Lord’s or the Oval and drink in the pleasures of leather on willow. As Our Lord said, “Where two or three are gathered together...”
Sunday, 17 May 2015
NO GLOSSOPIANS HURT reports Angela Pinkthing
No-one from Glossop was hurt when a chip-pan blaze ripped through the kitchen of 47 Chimney Parade, Bradford last night. Said Glossop Fire Chief Norman Cramp, "It's just sheer good luck that no-one from Glossop was in that part of Bradford yesterday."
ROAD SUBSIDES reports Ralph Gonad
Emergency Services were in attendance at the junction of Abattoir Drive and Pie Street on Monday when a large hole appeared in the road. Interviewed at the scene, Police Chief Superintendant Ronald Hitler said, "Well, there are two Ford Fiestas and an ice-cream van down there at the moment."
Fortunately, these vehicles were unoccupied at the time.
Later, a Pie Street resident, who cannot be named for legal reasons, called Maurice Arthur Mole went voluntarily to Glossop Police Station. Commented CI Hitler, "Mr Mole, a keen amateur tunneller, is helping us with our enquiries."
|Maurice Arthur Mole|