I had to have a snifter of Bruichladdich in my Special Glass before taking this one on. The glass is one of a pair of fine crystal glasses engraved 'University of Nottingham'. I have a visitor or two from there. They used to give them out to invited speakers at the (animal) feed conferences. I don't know if they still do, it was nearly a decade ago, but they are excellent glasses. Not those scrappy little vials that hold pub measures. You could get a quarter of a bottle into one of these, but it's best not to. Not at malt prices and not if you have plans for the next day. Still, the good whisky tastes better in good crystal.
I just use the one and it only ever contains single-malt. The other stays in a display cabinet in case something terrible happens to the drinking-purposes one (and if it does, someone will suffer). Visitors might be served in crystal, depending on the occasion, but not in one of these. Not even Kate Bush would get offered a drink in one of these. Not even if she arrived naked and coated with salt and butter. Coated in chocolate, maybe, but we'd have to deal with the chocolate first. Then I'd probably renege on the deal.
I just read those articles again. I'd better pour another. I had inadvertantly cheered myself up there.
The Brown Gorgon has just played the role of saviour to the armed forces and in true Labour fashion, he made it retrospective. So he didn't starve the forces of equipment and he's made a great promise now to give them half of what he promised before, which is a great thing but only if you are expert in doublethink. All those Snatch Land Rovers just dropped into the memory hole along with the green camouflage provided for a desert operation, the lack of boots and armour and the six-bullets-each fiasco. None of it was real. It was all a dream. The Gorgon didn't play fast and loose with soldier's lives just to stop Tiny Blur getting that quick victory in Iraq, which would have made him too powerful for the Gorgon to oust. No, never. We are at war with Eastasia. We have always been at war with Eastasia.
Another quote from the same book. Sing along, MPs. You all have a copy. Even Dead and Vapid Moribund must have managed to read this far by now.
He who controls the present controls the past. He who controls the past controls the future.
Controlling the present means stopping any more news of equipment shortages and deaths due to cost-cutting and inferior equipment coming out of Afghanistan or Iraq. As long as such news is suppressed, the Gorgon's New History can claim that he never, ever restricted any funding or equipment provision for the troops. He who controls the present controls the past.
As long as the drippy morons who still vote for this gutter-scraping and his conglomeration of foetid wet toad droppings still believe in the Gorgon's version of the past, and since they will hear no more of death and disaster overseas, they will still vote for him. They will line up, Stella-eyed, and place their X (those who can spell it) next to the pretty red flower their parents once knew the name of but which is seen no more among the grey concrete of their perfectly uniform Soviet estates. He who controls the past controls the future.
This is way beyond any ire over smoking bans that close pubs, minimum pricing that will drive small brewers to the wall, food health nazism, photographers harassed under anti-tourism laws or any of the other petty controls imposed on our lives. This is straight-out Soviet and/or Nazi (same thing) propaganda control.
And it is totally and utterly futile. The only press the Gorgon can silence is the British press and he controls their output anyway. All other agencies in all other countries will carry on as normal, including Reuters and probably its UK version also. Every one of them is accessible online. Most have English-language versions of their news. We don't need the BBC. We only need the internet, a printer, a laminator and lampposts. Stick the news up everywhere. Tell the Labour drones what they are not supposed to know. We might not be able to literally hang this government using lampposts but we can sure as hell do it figuratively.
One last quote from that book.
If there is hope, it lies in the proles.
But only if the proles realise how they are being used.
Once the blackout is in effect, all news links will be welcome here. As will any first-hand experiences. All will be printed and distributed. Keep the language simple, remember we are dealing with Labour-educated drones, not university professors. I've written articles for the farming press in the past, I can de-jargon where necessary.
Blogs don't reach many people on the grand scale of things. Even so, Old Holborn's blog managed to reach enough people to raise the money to pay a smoking landlord's fine in four days, and it was more than twice what the entire might of ASH managed to raise from daily access to the entire country in a year. That shows us that we have enough clout. What we need here is reach, because the voters we have to reach are not those who read blogs.
So we print it, laminate it or leaflet it and leave it in pubs, doctors' waiting rooms, railway carriages, at bus stops and on lampposts. Everywhere.
Show the proles who they are really voting for. Who their parents and grandparents really voted for. Show them what their X means, and show them that the Labour rose is only red because it is dipped in the blood of their families and friends.
It's time to open their eyes. They won't like it, they'll fight it and they'll deny it, but to use the weapon of the Righteous, it's for their cheeeldren.
The difference is, this time it really is for the sake of their children.