The Los Angeles Police Department has issued an extradition order for Mackson Wackson's self-proclaimed best friend in the whole world ever, the mystic cutlery-mangler Uri Geller.
Geller, who met Wackson once as he was passing through the VIP lounge of Heathrow Airport during a lull in his career when he was - briefly - employed as a washer-upper in the kitchen, spent much of Thursday night on the telephone to every TV and radio station in the world telling them what a shock it was to him that his young bestest-ever friend ever had died so suddenly and without warning.
"Smart work, Geller, but not smart enough," hard-bitten LA detective Harry Dyrrtei smiled as he arrived at New Scotland Yard to co-ordinate the hunt for the psychic with his British sidekick, DCI Gene Hunt. "You may think you've established a cast-iron alibi for yourself, letting the whole world know you were at home in Englandland as Wackson lay dying. But we got a file on you, see, and we think you knew exactly what was going to happen, way before it did. The paramedics report that the stiff was contorting his body into weird, unnatural shapes as his heart ceased - and that's your MO, pal."
Geller's current whereabouts are unknown. However, police sources say they are following an ectoplasmic trail leading to the astral plane, and plan to put Lieutenant Dyrrtei into a near-death coma in the hope that his incorporeal spirit will encounter the fugitive spoon-fondler as it voyages back to the seventies.
Saturday, 27 June 2009
Fickle Finger of Blame Pointing at Star's Doctor
Dead celebrity Mackson Wackson's cardiologist, Dr Conrad Strangelove, has been taken into police custody for his own safety after first the media, then Wackson's 6.49bn fans, decided that he obviously murdered their much-loved idol.
"Shoot, man, stands to reason, don' it?" said a 43-year-old fan who had watched a few Columbo TV movies in the rare moments in his life not spent listening to Wackson's hits on repeat play. "This murderin' medic was like da las' person to see Mackson alive, so he gotta be da killah. He got da means, he got da oppatoonity - ah ain' zackly figgered out da motive yet, but ah'm workin' on it."
"An' anudder ting," he added, "I ain't worked out da udder ting, aksh'ly, ah jes' tought ah oughtta say dat, y'know?"
Meanwhile, Mr Wackson's bodyshell has been released to his pet chimp, Bubbles, after an autopsy failed to find conclusive indications of his untimely death.
"We have found traces of sunshine, moonlight and good times in Mr Wackson's tissue and body fluids," announced Harvey Wallbanger of the LA County Coroner's office, "But moonlight is completely non-toxic - while sunshine and good times, although they have some potential to be harmful, were indicated only in trace quantities, suggesting that Mr Wackson had not been exposed to either in a long time."
"It looks like the cause of death may be found in Mr Jackson's boogie, which has been removed and sent in a refrigerated box to a laboratory for further testing," he added. "The tests may take weeks, so in the meantime the Coroner's office urges the public not to jump to any - oh, too late, you already have."
Mr Wackson's relatives are expected to spend the rest of their lives in litigation over who gets what, if anything, remains of the tragic icon's fortune. Bubbles has already begun tentatively dismantling Wackson's remains, perhaps planning to auction him piece by piece on eBay as relics.
Meanwhile, sobbing fans expressed their outrage as record companies began the inevitable cynical cash-in by releasing special editions of his back catalogue. Furious fans are already pre-registering for limited-edition vinyl picture discs of his singles, where the black print is gradually scraped away by the stylus with repeated playing to reveal the white vinyl beneath, whilst true hardcore collectors are expected to angrily snap up the individually-numbered holes from the middle of every Wackson release.
"Shoot, man, stands to reason, don' it?" said a 43-year-old fan who had watched a few Columbo TV movies in the rare moments in his life not spent listening to Wackson's hits on repeat play. "This murderin' medic was like da las' person to see Mackson alive, so he gotta be da killah. He got da means, he got da oppatoonity - ah ain' zackly figgered out da motive yet, but ah'm workin' on it."
"An' anudder ting," he added, "I ain't worked out da udder ting, aksh'ly, ah jes' tought ah oughtta say dat, y'know?"
Meanwhile, Mr Wackson's bodyshell has been released to his pet chimp, Bubbles, after an autopsy failed to find conclusive indications of his untimely death.
"We have found traces of sunshine, moonlight and good times in Mr Wackson's tissue and body fluids," announced Harvey Wallbanger of the LA County Coroner's office, "But moonlight is completely non-toxic - while sunshine and good times, although they have some potential to be harmful, were indicated only in trace quantities, suggesting that Mr Wackson had not been exposed to either in a long time."
"It looks like the cause of death may be found in Mr Jackson's boogie, which has been removed and sent in a refrigerated box to a laboratory for further testing," he added. "The tests may take weeks, so in the meantime the Coroner's office urges the public not to jump to any - oh, too late, you already have."
Mr Wackson's relatives are expected to spend the rest of their lives in litigation over who gets what, if anything, remains of the tragic icon's fortune. Bubbles has already begun tentatively dismantling Wackson's remains, perhaps planning to auction him piece by piece on eBay as relics.
Meanwhile, sobbing fans expressed their outrage as record companies began the inevitable cynical cash-in by releasing special editions of his back catalogue. Furious fans are already pre-registering for limited-edition vinyl picture discs of his singles, where the black print is gradually scraped away by the stylus with repeated playing to reveal the white vinyl beneath, whilst true hardcore collectors are expected to angrily snap up the individually-numbered holes from the middle of every Wackson release.
Friday, 26 June 2009
Man You Didn't Know And Never Met Dies
The world stopped turning last night as it emerged that a man you didn't know had died.
The entire population of planet Earth held its breath, hoping against hope that the man they had never met had been saved by the quick action of paramedics and doctors at a hospital somewhere in America. But their optimism was without foundation, as it became clear when somebody or other announced that the man was definitely dead.
All over the internet, people who had a reasonable idea of what the man looked like rounded furiously on the callous, inhuman monsters who wondered what all the fuss was about, before dropping them forever from their Friends list.
"If one more heartless bastard tries to tell me anything about the man I don't particularly want to hear, I swear I'll do time," sobbed one tear-streaked person whose existence the man had never been remotely aware of. "Even if it is true, which it isn't - and I know that for a fact because I didn't know him like they don't. That man I never met brought happiness, fulfilment and a deep emotional maturity to my life."
The entire population of planet Earth held its breath, hoping against hope that the man they had never met had been saved by the quick action of paramedics and doctors at a hospital somewhere in America. But their optimism was without foundation, as it became clear when somebody or other announced that the man was definitely dead.
All over the internet, people who had a reasonable idea of what the man looked like rounded furiously on the callous, inhuman monsters who wondered what all the fuss was about, before dropping them forever from their Friends list.
"If one more heartless bastard tries to tell me anything about the man I don't particularly want to hear, I swear I'll do time," sobbed one tear-streaked person whose existence the man had never been remotely aware of. "Even if it is true, which it isn't - and I know that for a fact because I didn't know him like they don't. That man I never met brought happiness, fulfilment and a deep emotional maturity to my life."
White Man of Black Origin Dies
The world's first and only recipient of a race transplant, Mackson Wackson, died last night after suffering cardiac failure at the age of 50, it was reported by all media.
Mr Wackson was born black, but died white several years after undergoing life-changing surgery at the hands of pioneering ethnologist Dr Strangelove.
"Mackson Wackson grew up very confused about his ethnic orientation," explained Dr Strangelove from his underground bunker this morning. "Well, I say grew up although of course I'm using the term rather loosely. Every morning he would look in the mirror and see a coloured man with a characteristic wide nose staring black at him, and this made him feel bad - really, really bad. He came to me in despair, and after he explained his bank account to me I agreed to conduct the world's first operation to remove a person's ethnic origin completely."
The surgery was conducted only after years of research by the chemical industry into developing special plastics which would reproduce the tone, texture and semi-permeable characteristics of human skin came to nothing. Mackson Wackson emerged from the operation more white than any white man in history, and with the world's smallest nose.
Sadly, Dr Strangelove was never able to cure Mr Wackson of his other terrible affliction, a crippling inability to walk forwards.
Mr Wackson was born black, but died white several years after undergoing life-changing surgery at the hands of pioneering ethnologist Dr Strangelove.
"Mackson Wackson grew up very confused about his ethnic orientation," explained Dr Strangelove from his underground bunker this morning. "Well, I say grew up although of course I'm using the term rather loosely. Every morning he would look in the mirror and see a coloured man with a characteristic wide nose staring black at him, and this made him feel bad - really, really bad. He came to me in despair, and after he explained his bank account to me I agreed to conduct the world's first operation to remove a person's ethnic origin completely."
The surgery was conducted only after years of research by the chemical industry into developing special plastics which would reproduce the tone, texture and semi-permeable characteristics of human skin came to nothing. Mackson Wackson emerged from the operation more white than any white man in history, and with the world's smallest nose.
Sadly, Dr Strangelove was never able to cure Mr Wackson of his other terrible affliction, a crippling inability to walk forwards.
Celebrity Paedophiles Pay Tribute To Wackson
Leading child-molesters from the world of showbiz have been paying tribute to Mackson Wackson.
"Along with a string of 70s chart successes, I also shared Wackson's harmless hobby of snuggling up in bed with a warm little poor boy," said noted kiddie-porn connoisseur Gary Glitter. "But he had some undefinable quality which enabled him to convince his fans that it was somehow all the fault of his victims and their evil, scheming parents. You just can't buy support like that, even by claiming mental illness - and God knows, I've tried."
"I deeply regret that I never fully appreciated Mackson Wackson's message while he was alive," said convicted teen-fondler Jonathan King. "If only I'd had the foresight to post an enormous cheque to my victims, instead of whining about the age of consent laws, maybe they too would have withdrawn their statements and I would have got away scot-free. Because I didn't appreciate his talent for buying himself out of trouble, I spent four very unpleasant years in a Category C prison. My arsehole still twitches with fright every time I take a shower."
"Along with a string of 70s chart successes, I also shared Wackson's harmless hobby of snuggling up in bed with a warm little poor boy," said noted kiddie-porn connoisseur Gary Glitter. "But he had some undefinable quality which enabled him to convince his fans that it was somehow all the fault of his victims and their evil, scheming parents. You just can't buy support like that, even by claiming mental illness - and God knows, I've tried."
"I deeply regret that I never fully appreciated Mackson Wackson's message while he was alive," said convicted teen-fondler Jonathan King. "If only I'd had the foresight to post an enormous cheque to my victims, instead of whining about the age of consent laws, maybe they too would have withdrawn their statements and I would have got away scot-free. Because I didn't appreciate his talent for buying himself out of trouble, I spent four very unpleasant years in a Category C prison. My arsehole still twitches with fright every time I take a shower."
O2 Concerts To Go Ahead As Planned, Say Promoters
Millions of fans who bought tickets to see Mackson Wackson's comeback performances at London's O2 Dome will not be disappointed, say promoters.
"We are as deeply saddened by Mackson's death as his legions of cloth-eared fans," they said in a press release. "However, we have been told that, after his funeral - for which tickets will be going on sale on our website at 6pm tonight, don't miss the dance 'n' horror extravaganza of a lifetime - his body will be exhumed and carried to a leading Hollywood special effects designer, who even now is working on an animatronic framework which can be folded up for insertion into Wackson's rectum, then deployed to operate his limbs either directly by radio control or according to pre-programmed instructions."
"Don't worry, folks," concluded the promoters, "Mackson Wackson's mechanically-animated plastic remains will continue to wow the crowds for centuries to come."
"We are as deeply saddened by Mackson's death as his legions of cloth-eared fans," they said in a press release. "However, we have been told that, after his funeral - for which tickets will be going on sale on our website at 6pm tonight, don't miss the dance 'n' horror extravaganza of a lifetime - his body will be exhumed and carried to a leading Hollywood special effects designer, who even now is working on an animatronic framework which can be folded up for insertion into Wackson's rectum, then deployed to operate his limbs either directly by radio control or according to pre-programmed instructions."
"Don't worry, folks," concluded the promoters, "Mackson Wackson's mechanically-animated plastic remains will continue to wow the crowds for centuries to come."
Wackson Changed Our Hideous Travesty of Life, Say Zombies
The living dead community has been fulsome in its praise of Mackson Wackson, who did so much to raise public awareness of the life-changing condition.
"Brains! Brains, brains, brains, brains, brains," explained a half woman strapped to a gurney in a crematorium, while half a dog yapped mournfully and a particularly eloquent corpse called for more paramedics to deal with the issue.
"For years, people spared little thought for the terrible plight of the reanimated, cannibalistic corpses of the dead," explained a leading zombologist, Papa Doc Duvalier. "If the walking dead entered the public consciousness at all, it was either through the terrible negative stereotypes portrayed by the popular media, or by biting deep into the frontal lobes.
"Zombies don't actually want to trap you in an isolated building, terrorise you out of your wits and smash their way in to feast on your entrails. It's a compulsion. They have no free will, in fact they have no will at all. But I think that, nowadays, people who find themselves in situations like this are more inclined to consider things from the zombie's vacant-eyed perspective. In fact, you'll find that more and more of their gnawed, bloody remains are rising up and joining the unstoppable rampage of the living dead."
"It took the compassion of Mackson Wackson to remind everyone that it's not all just lumbering around in the shadows, dressed in shabby clothes," continued the former houngan and murderous president of Haiti. "He showed the world that, through the healing power of music therapy, zombies love to express their creativity by formating on each other and showing off their funky, twitching moves. So the next time you meet a zombie on a dark night, instead of running away and screaming for help, why not pass him one of your earbuds and share your iPod playlist with him?"
"And your juicy, succulent brains, obviously," he added.
"Brains! Brains, brains, brains, brains, brains," explained a half woman strapped to a gurney in a crematorium, while half a dog yapped mournfully and a particularly eloquent corpse called for more paramedics to deal with the issue.
"For years, people spared little thought for the terrible plight of the reanimated, cannibalistic corpses of the dead," explained a leading zombologist, Papa Doc Duvalier. "If the walking dead entered the public consciousness at all, it was either through the terrible negative stereotypes portrayed by the popular media, or by biting deep into the frontal lobes.
"Zombies don't actually want to trap you in an isolated building, terrorise you out of your wits and smash their way in to feast on your entrails. It's a compulsion. They have no free will, in fact they have no will at all. But I think that, nowadays, people who find themselves in situations like this are more inclined to consider things from the zombie's vacant-eyed perspective. In fact, you'll find that more and more of their gnawed, bloody remains are rising up and joining the unstoppable rampage of the living dead."
"It took the compassion of Mackson Wackson to remind everyone that it's not all just lumbering around in the shadows, dressed in shabby clothes," continued the former houngan and murderous president of Haiti. "He showed the world that, through the healing power of music therapy, zombies love to express their creativity by formating on each other and showing off their funky, twitching moves. So the next time you meet a zombie on a dark night, instead of running away and screaming for help, why not pass him one of your earbuds and share your iPod playlist with him?"
"And your juicy, succulent brains, obviously," he added.
Man Discovers Meaning of Strange New Word
A British man who was idly surfing the internet in the small hours of this morning was gratified to finally learn the meaning of a neologism whose precise definition had eluded him for some time.
"I spent a couple of harrowing hours last night on Facebook and Twitter, perusing a tidal wave of mawkish emotional incontinence about the life and death of Mackson Wackson that dribbled endlessly from the empty heads of millions of maudlin celebrity addicts," said the man, who did not wish to be named for fear of having his home burned down. "And I think I can say with confidence that I've finally nailed the exact meaning of the portmanteau word 'fucktards'."
"I spent a couple of harrowing hours last night on Facebook and Twitter, perusing a tidal wave of mawkish emotional incontinence about the life and death of Mackson Wackson that dribbled endlessly from the empty heads of millions of maudlin celebrity addicts," said the man, who did not wish to be named for fear of having his home burned down. "And I think I can say with confidence that I've finally nailed the exact meaning of the portmanteau word 'fucktards'."
Wednesday, 24 June 2009
Rest of World's Economies Will Pick Up Eventually, Says OECD
The recession will, sooner or later, come to an end everywhere except in Britain, according to the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development.
"Thanks to firm action to stimulate our economies, it appears we have escaped the worst during this crisis," said Angel Gurria, the think tank's secretary general, after better-than-expected performances from the United States and the bigger developing countries.
"Unfortunately, in Britain you have the dead weight of Gordon Brown pressing you deeper into the mire," he explained. "Every time his mouth opens, you hope against hope for some sign of vitality - but it turns out to be just another bubble of gas escaping from his decomposing innards. You poor sods."
The OECD report also pointed out that the economies of other nations are based on producing something or other, whereas in the UK a parcel was just passed around in a big circle, with players fondly imagining it to be worth ever-increasing amounts of money - until somebody actually opened it, and found nothing but strips of old newspaper and an IOU.
Even so, Britain's future is not entirely bleak, said Mr Gurria optimistically.
"Look at Italy," he said. "Millions of people visit Rome every year to gawp in wonder at the ruins of a once-mighty civilisation that was once the envy of the world. Of course, they had to wait 1500 years for rubble to have much of an effect on the economy, but then it took centuries for their solidly-designed buildings to fall into ruin. Without expensive maintenance, London's phallic glass-and-steel skyline should start to collapse well within the lifetimes of many of its inhabitants."
"Well, the few cannibals who survive, anyway," he added.
"Thanks to firm action to stimulate our economies, it appears we have escaped the worst during this crisis," said Angel Gurria, the think tank's secretary general, after better-than-expected performances from the United States and the bigger developing countries.
"Unfortunately, in Britain you have the dead weight of Gordon Brown pressing you deeper into the mire," he explained. "Every time his mouth opens, you hope against hope for some sign of vitality - but it turns out to be just another bubble of gas escaping from his decomposing innards. You poor sods."
The OECD report also pointed out that the economies of other nations are based on producing something or other, whereas in the UK a parcel was just passed around in a big circle, with players fondly imagining it to be worth ever-increasing amounts of money - until somebody actually opened it, and found nothing but strips of old newspaper and an IOU.
Even so, Britain's future is not entirely bleak, said Mr Gurria optimistically.
"Look at Italy," he said. "Millions of people visit Rome every year to gawp in wonder at the ruins of a once-mighty civilisation that was once the envy of the world. Of course, they had to wait 1500 years for rubble to have much of an effect on the economy, but then it took centuries for their solidly-designed buildings to fall into ruin. Without expensive maintenance, London's phallic glass-and-steel skyline should start to collapse well within the lifetimes of many of its inhabitants."
"Well, the few cannibals who survive, anyway," he added.
Asylum Seekers Strangely Reluctant To Go Home To Torture and Death
Government ministers and civil servants are scratching their heads at the failure of a £1m scheme designed to encourage asylum seekers to return to their country of origin and probable death.
"We spoke to a lot of refugees, showing them lots of lovely travel brochures extolling the great hotels, climate and beaches available in the countries that hounded and persecuted them," said Border and Immigration Minister Phil Dumbas. "But we only managed to persuade one family in Kent to return home. We saw them off at the airport and told them to send us a postcard and tell us how they were enjoying themselves. We're still waiting, actually. But the postal service in some of these countries is frankly shocking, isn't it?"
The poor results come hard on the heels of disappointing figures from a £285m scheme aimed at saving family homes from repossession, which turned out to have benefited only two families.
"Basically, this is a taste of what happens when governments hand over policymaking to the Daily Mail," said Andy Pandy of the Children's Society. "Really, these projects would be better managed if the government just drove a truck from town to town, with a man on the back shovelling out banknotes at random."
However, Mr Dumbas said he had high hopes for smaller initiatives aimed at encouraging repatriation, pointing out that a locally-run scheme in loyalist South Belfast had already persuaded many Romanians that they would rather take their chances back in their desolate shit-hole of a country - run into the ground by a barmy thug and his pig-ignorant wife for forty years, and still woefully mismanaged by a disastrous coalition of his former henchmen and organised crime lords - than spend another day in Britain.
"We spoke to a lot of refugees, showing them lots of lovely travel brochures extolling the great hotels, climate and beaches available in the countries that hounded and persecuted them," said Border and Immigration Minister Phil Dumbas. "But we only managed to persuade one family in Kent to return home. We saw them off at the airport and told them to send us a postcard and tell us how they were enjoying themselves. We're still waiting, actually. But the postal service in some of these countries is frankly shocking, isn't it?"
The poor results come hard on the heels of disappointing figures from a £285m scheme aimed at saving family homes from repossession, which turned out to have benefited only two families.
"Basically, this is a taste of what happens when governments hand over policymaking to the Daily Mail," said Andy Pandy of the Children's Society. "Really, these projects would be better managed if the government just drove a truck from town to town, with a man on the back shovelling out banknotes at random."
However, Mr Dumbas said he had high hopes for smaller initiatives aimed at encouraging repatriation, pointing out that a locally-run scheme in loyalist South Belfast had already persuaded many Romanians that they would rather take their chances back in their desolate shit-hole of a country - run into the ground by a barmy thug and his pig-ignorant wife for forty years, and still woefully mismanaged by a disastrous coalition of his former henchmen and organised crime lords - than spend another day in Britain.
Tuesday, 23 June 2009
Deluded Mumbo-Jumbologist Walks Away From Scientific Job
Despite claiming that she could not choose between her job and her religion, a devout Catholic divorcee has nevertheless chosen to quit her job at Gloucestershire Royal Hospital, rather than comply with hygiene regulations by removing a tiny dangling metal object from round her neck and putting it in her pocket.
"Oi's orways wore moy cross and oi's orways been a Godfeerin' sole," explained Helen Slapper, 43. "It be important to oi. Apart from orl that stuff 'bowt divorce, though. That be jus' a lode uv ol' mumbo-jumbo drempt up boi a bunch o' barmy owd men livin' down thurr in Palerstine 'unnerds o' yeer ago."
An informal non-disciplinary hearing with representatives from Gloucestershire NHS Trust broke down last month when Mrs Slapper suddenly pulled out her crucifix and advanced on the servants of evil, leaving them cowering in a corner at the sight of Jesus on the cross.
"Oi carnt put moy Lawrd 'n' Saveyer in me pawkit, 'ee'll get orl covered in fluff an' oi'll go to 'ell," said Mrs Slapper. "'Jeezus, 'ee do prefer to sit 'tween me knockers, 'ee tode oi so in a 'oly vision dinee."
Staff at the local Jobcentre are currently drawing lots for the difficult job of explaining with a straight face that although God may have forgiven his indignant cultist for walking out of her job as a phlebologist, the Department for Work and Pensions may be harder to convince.
"Perhaps it's for the best really," said a spokesman for the hospital. "Let's face it, if you were a patient, you might be more than a little perturbed to learn that your critical blood sample was in the hands of a woman who seems to believe in all seriousness that blood is something that dribbles out of a marble statue on feast days."
"Oi's orways wore moy cross and oi's orways been a Godfeerin' sole," explained Helen Slapper, 43. "It be important to oi. Apart from orl that stuff 'bowt divorce, though. That be jus' a lode uv ol' mumbo-jumbo drempt up boi a bunch o' barmy owd men livin' down thurr in Palerstine 'unnerds o' yeer ago."
An informal non-disciplinary hearing with representatives from Gloucestershire NHS Trust broke down last month when Mrs Slapper suddenly pulled out her crucifix and advanced on the servants of evil, leaving them cowering in a corner at the sight of Jesus on the cross.
"Oi carnt put moy Lawrd 'n' Saveyer in me pawkit, 'ee'll get orl covered in fluff an' oi'll go to 'ell," said Mrs Slapper. "'Jeezus, 'ee do prefer to sit 'tween me knockers, 'ee tode oi so in a 'oly vision dinee."
Staff at the local Jobcentre are currently drawing lots for the difficult job of explaining with a straight face that although God may have forgiven his indignant cultist for walking out of her job as a phlebologist, the Department for Work and Pensions may be harder to convince.
"Perhaps it's for the best really," said a spokesman for the hospital. "Let's face it, if you were a patient, you might be more than a little perturbed to learn that your critical blood sample was in the hands of a woman who seems to believe in all seriousness that blood is something that dribbles out of a marble statue on feast days."
BNP May Be Discriminating, Warns Shocked Equality and Human Rights Commission
The Equality and Human Rights Commission has written a letter to MEP Nick Griffin, the leader of the British National Party, asking whether he is aware that some of its policies may not be fully compliant with racial discrimination laws.
"Under the Equality Act 2006, we have a statutory duty to enforce the law," said John Wadham, the commission's legal director. "After the recent elections, this party was brought to our attention for the first time, sparking some concerns that it may not be entirely up to speed on recent legislation with regard to its whites-only membership policy. Now I'm no expert, but it is possible that this may contravene the Race Relations Act."
The commission's letter advises Mr Griffin that the BNP must comply with the law, and asks him to confirm that his party will not discriminate in its employment and recruitment policies, procedures and practices.
Mr Wadham went on to explain that some of his officials were also worried that the BNP's elected representatives may not be providing quite the same level of service to all of their constituents, regardless of race and colour.
"But I think that may be jumping the gun, frankly," he added. "I think we'll just wait and see what they have to say on the matter. I'm sure Mr Griffin will be more than happy to clear up what is probably just a silly misunderstanding."
"Under the Equality Act 2006, we have a statutory duty to enforce the law," said John Wadham, the commission's legal director. "After the recent elections, this party was brought to our attention for the first time, sparking some concerns that it may not be entirely up to speed on recent legislation with regard to its whites-only membership policy. Now I'm no expert, but it is possible that this may contravene the Race Relations Act."
The commission's letter advises Mr Griffin that the BNP must comply with the law, and asks him to confirm that his party will not discriminate in its employment and recruitment policies, procedures and practices.
Mr Wadham went on to explain that some of his officials were also worried that the BNP's elected representatives may not be providing quite the same level of service to all of their constituents, regardless of race and colour.
"But I think that may be jumping the gun, frankly," he added. "I think we'll just wait and see what they have to say on the matter. I'm sure Mr Griffin will be more than happy to clear up what is probably just a silly misunderstanding."
Monday, 22 June 2009
The Truly Untouchables
Sharp-suited Tory racketeer John 'Bercsy' Siegel is ahead in the race to become the next Boss of the House of Common Criminals, after a violent first-round fight which left four bullet-riddled candidates slumped in a pool of blood.
In the heart of London's gangland, MPs suddenly pulled out their Tommy guns - and the air was briefly sundered by the staccato music of the deadly 'Westminster piano'. As the dust settled, it became clear to shocked onlookers that the crime-ridden lives of Parmjit 'The Sacred Bull' Dhanda, Richard 'Crazy Dick' Shepherd, Sir Patrick Corleone and Sir Michael 'Unlucky' Lordiano had been brutally rubbed out.
Ann Widdecapone, Meyer Beithsky, 'Mad Dog' Haselhurst, 'Legs' Beckett, 'Gaspipe' Young and 'Bercsy' Siegel are reported to have escaped the initial massacre unharmed, with Mr Siegel in a clear lead as he sped off to a safe second house in his armour-plated Packard.
Bookie Bob - who runs the numbers racket - had earlier named 'Legs' Beckett as the favourite to win, after the former Foreign Secretary made him an offer he couldn't refuse.
The forces of order and order admit that they have very few leads to go on, although they accept that organised crime may well be out of control on the mean streets of Westminster.
"We'll pin something on these characters and make it stick - even if it's a tax evasion rap," promised the city's tough-talking top lawman, Sir Paul Stephenson-il.
"On second thoughts," he added reflectively, "Maybe we won't."
"There are clear signs of resentment in the political underworld over the behind-the-scenes influence exerted by the whips," commented the BBC's first-on-the-scene crime reporter, Nick Robinson. "Not to mention the knuckledusters, the baseball bats and the concrete galoshes."
In the heart of London's gangland, MPs suddenly pulled out their Tommy guns - and the air was briefly sundered by the staccato music of the deadly 'Westminster piano'. As the dust settled, it became clear to shocked onlookers that the crime-ridden lives of Parmjit 'The Sacred Bull' Dhanda, Richard 'Crazy Dick' Shepherd, Sir Patrick Corleone and Sir Michael 'Unlucky' Lordiano had been brutally rubbed out.
Ann Widdecapone, Meyer Beithsky, 'Mad Dog' Haselhurst, 'Legs' Beckett, 'Gaspipe' Young and 'Bercsy' Siegel are reported to have escaped the initial massacre unharmed, with Mr Siegel in a clear lead as he sped off to a safe second house in his armour-plated Packard.
Bookie Bob - who runs the numbers racket - had earlier named 'Legs' Beckett as the favourite to win, after the former Foreign Secretary made him an offer he couldn't refuse.
The forces of order and order admit that they have very few leads to go on, although they accept that organised crime may well be out of control on the mean streets of Westminster.
"We'll pin something on these characters and make it stick - even if it's a tax evasion rap," promised the city's tough-talking top lawman, Sir Paul Stephenson-il.
"On second thoughts," he added reflectively, "Maybe we won't."
"There are clear signs of resentment in the political underworld over the behind-the-scenes influence exerted by the whips," commented the BBC's first-on-the-scene crime reporter, Nick Robinson. "Not to mention the knuckledusters, the baseball bats and the concrete galoshes."
It's In The Beautiful Game
The rights to 46 premier-league football matches have been snapped up by games software label EASN, after the financially-embarrassed Setanta group defaulted on its payments to the Football Association.
"This is a great day for English football fans," said an FA spokesman. "Thanks to the innovative technology of Electronic Arts Sports Network, fans will no longer sit in the boozer merely watching the match. At any point, they can take control of their favourite players themselves and maybe influence the outcome of the entire Premiership!"
"And if they don't like the result, they can play the game over and over again until they do," he added.
"This is a great day for English football fans," said an FA spokesman. "Thanks to the innovative technology of Electronic Arts Sports Network, fans will no longer sit in the boozer merely watching the match. At any point, they can take control of their favourite players themselves and maybe influence the outcome of the entire Premiership!"
"And if they don't like the result, they can play the game over and over again until they do," he added.
Sunday, 21 June 2009
Clarkson Refuses to Confirm Stig Rumours
Top Gear presenter Jeremy Clarkson has refused to be drawn into revealing the identity of the Stig, the show's secret test driver, despite a leak from a reliable source claiming that it was in fact Gordon Brown.
In his Sunday Times column, Clarkson told readers that the mystery figure will be seen on tonight's show, storming into the studio during the recording and removing his helmet, to the amazement of the audience and crew.
"The Stig is Gordon Brown," said a senior cabinet minister who wished to remain anonymous - let's call him Strack Jaw. "He has been beavering away quietly for years to keep Britain's petrolheads entertained, and he's really the only man for the job - but he's a naturally modest man, and he didn't want to hog the limelight. However, he's come in for a lot of entirely undeserved criticism lately, so perhaps he felt it was time for some credit where credit's due."
"Let's face it, the prime minister desperately needs a snippet of good publicity at the moment," said the BBC's Nick Robinson. "Anything, really. At this stage in his career, even a late entry into the Big Brother household would look like a political masterstroke compared to his recent appearances."
However, after he stopped laughing and climbed back into his seat, Mr Clarkson poured scorn on the suggestion.
"Gordon Brown. On my show. In a high-performance car. That would be like giving Heinrich Himmler a hedge trimmer and inviting him to officiate at your son's bar mitzvah," he spluttered. "But not as funny."
"What?" he added. "What have I said wrong now?"
In his Sunday Times column, Clarkson told readers that the mystery figure will be seen on tonight's show, storming into the studio during the recording and removing his helmet, to the amazement of the audience and crew.
"The Stig is Gordon Brown," said a senior cabinet minister who wished to remain anonymous - let's call him Strack Jaw. "He has been beavering away quietly for years to keep Britain's petrolheads entertained, and he's really the only man for the job - but he's a naturally modest man, and he didn't want to hog the limelight. However, he's come in for a lot of entirely undeserved criticism lately, so perhaps he felt it was time for some credit where credit's due."
"Let's face it, the prime minister desperately needs a snippet of good publicity at the moment," said the BBC's Nick Robinson. "Anything, really. At this stage in his career, even a late entry into the Big Brother household would look like a political masterstroke compared to his recent appearances."
However, after he stopped laughing and climbed back into his seat, Mr Clarkson poured scorn on the suggestion.
"Gordon Brown. On my show. In a high-performance car. That would be like giving Heinrich Himmler a hedge trimmer and inviting him to officiate at your son's bar mitzvah," he spluttered. "But not as funny."
"What?" he added. "What have I said wrong now?"
Druids Out In Force For Solstice Celebrations
A long-dormant colony of druids surprised revellers at Stonehenge at dawn this morning, stepping out of the tree trunks within which they had secreted themselves two thousand years ago and slaughtering everybody in sight.
"Fuuuckin' 'ell," whispered a man in a particularly silly Andean hat as he trembled in a ditch - just an innocent partygoer who only moments ago had been randomly plucking strings on some kind of balalaika. "I thought it was all like wow, look at the sun coming up, that's sooo amazing, and the sky's like red and blue at the same time, which was like rilly awesome. Then these mistletoe-covered maniacs appeared out of like nowhere and started laying into us with sickles. That was like sooo uncool."
He then screamed over an ominous dry rustling, and the line went dead.
An estimated 36,500 solstice-watchers are believed to have either been slashed to ribbons where they danced, or ritually carved to death on the blood-soaked sarsens of Stonehenge.
As he mourned the loss of his entire Time Team, who had been slaughtered on homebrew even before they were slaughtered for real, a shaken Tony Robinson said that a bloodbath was bound to happen sooner or later.
"What these raddled old hippies and middle-class students don't realise is that all that stuff about white-bearded chaps in pointy hats is a load of cobblers, largely invented by Victorian romantics," he said. "The simple fact of the matter is that the horrified Romans went to great lengths to wipe the druids and their sickening lust for human sacrifice from the face of the earth forever - and it's not like they were exactly a bunch of fainting namby-pambies themselves, if you were holding a competition for bloodthirsty public slaughter."
"Frankly, if the Roman legions were quaking in their boots at the thought of what the druids were getting up to, we should probably be thanking them for making Britain a safe place to bring your children up in, without some nutter who thinks he's a shrub snatching them from your arms and flaying them alive just for the hell of it," he added.
TV's leading high-speed archaeologist went on to suggest that the record numbers attending this year's solstice - tragically boosted by the date falling on a weekend - may have created sufficient psychic energy to awaken the murderous druids from their bark-encased refuges.
Armoured units of the British army - who had been exercising on nearby Salisbury Plain - were swiftly deployed with flamethrowers and napalm-filled shells to deal with the deadly druid threat, and soon Stonehenge's blackened stones bore mute testimony to the charred remnants of an evil death cult from the dawn of recorded history.
A punitive expedition is expected to be mounted against the Welsh National Eisteddfod in six weeks' time.
"Fuuuckin' 'ell," whispered a man in a particularly silly Andean hat as he trembled in a ditch - just an innocent partygoer who only moments ago had been randomly plucking strings on some kind of balalaika. "I thought it was all like wow, look at the sun coming up, that's sooo amazing, and the sky's like red and blue at the same time, which was like rilly awesome. Then these mistletoe-covered maniacs appeared out of like nowhere and started laying into us with sickles. That was like sooo uncool."
He then screamed over an ominous dry rustling, and the line went dead.
An estimated 36,500 solstice-watchers are believed to have either been slashed to ribbons where they danced, or ritually carved to death on the blood-soaked sarsens of Stonehenge.
As he mourned the loss of his entire Time Team, who had been slaughtered on homebrew even before they were slaughtered for real, a shaken Tony Robinson said that a bloodbath was bound to happen sooner or later.
"What these raddled old hippies and middle-class students don't realise is that all that stuff about white-bearded chaps in pointy hats is a load of cobblers, largely invented by Victorian romantics," he said. "The simple fact of the matter is that the horrified Romans went to great lengths to wipe the druids and their sickening lust for human sacrifice from the face of the earth forever - and it's not like they were exactly a bunch of fainting namby-pambies themselves, if you were holding a competition for bloodthirsty public slaughter."
"Frankly, if the Roman legions were quaking in their boots at the thought of what the druids were getting up to, we should probably be thanking them for making Britain a safe place to bring your children up in, without some nutter who thinks he's a shrub snatching them from your arms and flaying them alive just for the hell of it," he added.
TV's leading high-speed archaeologist went on to suggest that the record numbers attending this year's solstice - tragically boosted by the date falling on a weekend - may have created sufficient psychic energy to awaken the murderous druids from their bark-encased refuges.
Armoured units of the British army - who had been exercising on nearby Salisbury Plain - were swiftly deployed with flamethrowers and napalm-filled shells to deal with the deadly druid threat, and soon Stonehenge's blackened stones bore mute testimony to the charred remnants of an evil death cult from the dawn of recorded history.
A punitive expedition is expected to be mounted against the Welsh National Eisteddfod in six weeks' time.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)