17-04-2010, 09:26 PM
The vital deep political context:
Quote:The Vile Shadow over Britain
by Donald Lube-Tambora, The Daily Excess, 16 April 2010, 1815hrs
An enormous Brown eruption, filling the skies of Britain with dangerous chunks of hubris and large quantities of dubious psephology, threatens the country with a once-every-four-or-five-years mass Conservative extinction event, claimed distraught climatologist Troy Cameroon last night.
“There I was, making the political weather, when No 10’s occupant erupted with laughter at my performance in the first election debate,” sobbed Cameroon. “Has this slack-jawed Cyclops no heart?” he added, to no one in particular, in the rapidly emptying press room.
Cameroon’s loyal army of mainstream journalists sought solace in hotel bars, restaurants, and Maltese Milo’s Club a la Pole. They were every bit as distraught as their fallen tailor’s dummy.
According to Nigel Cholmondley-Warner, Torygraph leader writer, “This Downing Street eruption has cast a dark shadow over the obvious political earthquake metaphor, and, just as bloody annoying, kyboshed my weekend jaunt to Washington, where I was to be given an award for my editorial urging a pre-emptive US nuclear strike on a sleeping Persepolis.”
Cholmondley-Warner was in no doubt who was to blame: “That man Clogg, and his first-rate impression of Tony Blair. I will never forgive him. But I will forgive that whirling hussy in the 12” heels. Trebles all round, please, Milo!”
Clogg a Shoe-in?
The positively volcanic outpouring of mirth occurred at the conclusion of the first televised debate between prospective Prime Ministers in British history. While the present incumbent exceeded expectations by turning up with his pants on and zip up, Cameroon appeared to many to have gone bonkers.
“He declared war on China, the silly upper-class twit,” commented Ken McGuiness, the Daily Mirror’s veteran political correspondent. “And what about that glassy-eyed stare, eh, worse than Cyclops himself?”
McGuiness was surprisingly unqualified in his praise for Clogg’s Blair-like effusions of faux-sincerity. “Breath of fresh air, brave reformer, man-of-the-people. Until, that is, the Lib-Dems start polling consistency over 26.33 recurring, at which point he is a dangerously naïve twelve year-old public schoolboy intent upon handing over Trident to Kim-Ill Megalomaniac and the Irano-Syrian Taliban.”
Of MICE and Mancunians
Legendary political weatherman Dweeb Chuffbutty IV has followed the great pall of nonsense settling over Britain with a keen eye. Speaking from his smart offices in Teaparty, Arizona, the home of the Monsanto Institute for Conservative Education, Chuffbutty, the man who masterminded the recent electoral triumph of Bulgaria’s Boris Badonov, was in doubt as to the meaning of the thick clouds of sulphurous rhetorical debris darkening British skies: “It’s God’s judgment on thirteen years of Communist Kleptocracy. Voters have a clear choice. Elect that zealous privatiser Cameroon or you will all die in a Biblical plague. It’s that simple.”
Mancunians were all together less apocryphal. Bill Greenall declared himself undecided – between a Chinese take-away, or a Biryani. His companion, Melanie Trafford, sought to put events firmly within a historical perspective. “It’s Grímvötn all over, ain’t it? But never mind. There’s always a nice, hot bath and what with all that free pumice stone…”