Looking across the pond from this little capsule of backwards moving rectal discharge, currently intent on winning the coveted “Most Racist and Backwards Nation on Earth” award, I can proudly say one thing.
We are building a wall to keep migrants out first, so take that America.
I’m joking of course. I’m mortified at the Calais wall and it doesn’t matter how many flowers they place along the road side of it.
We are a nation dedicated to creating refugees by either bombing or invading the shit out of foreign countries (as long as there are resources we can nick because ours are running out and we are about to willingly price ourselves out of reality, by parachuting out of the single market holding a handkerchief), or by selling weapons to Saudi Arabia. Anything for a bit of coin, what what.
Nevertheless, as scary as this forsaken island has become – with hate crime now a daily occurrence and the airwaves and media loaded with right wing bollocks, and not forgetting the return to Alf Garnett’s good old days with imperial weights that no one aside from the half dead understand – it doesn’t terrify me half as much as the Yanks doing the same. But bigger.
Last night’s TV debate was shockingly bad. Clinton looked a lot like Red Dwarf’s Kryten, wearing a mop on his head and with ‘smug mode’ turned up full crank. Trump, on the other hand, appeared to have borrowed all of Bradley Wiggins’ Columbian ‘hay fever’ medication and chatted away like Trainspotting’s Spud during his doomed job interview.
Neither of them won. It was like watching two tortoises with arthritis trying to hump each other. Off balance. Mounting out of the question. Painful.
The terrifying thing, from this side of the water, is watching a nation faced with a choice of the two most unpopular presidential candidates in history and having to decide which one they hate the most, in order to vote for the other.
The demographic of voters is a mirror of the walking dead shit shower of baby boomers who rang the death knell for everything but the politics of implanted memory and bullshit over here. And they are the ones who will make the trip to the voting booth. Gangrene and titanium joints or not.
What scares me most of all…simple: the only person with more guns and nukes than you is sat quietly, laughing. Placing troops on the borders of the Europe my countrymen are trying so hard to fuck up. Old Vlad must whooping it up.
The sad irony of all of it? This time Britain made the first move to fuck the world up and you’re going to join in again, cowboying the shit out of what fight you pick next, but you are going to get put on your arse. And it’s a lesson you will never forget. There won’t be a sequel franchise and a reboot is years off, if it ever happens. You’ve bought the Hollywood dream of the world and now you’re going to have to bite the same bullet-laden shit sandwich we just did.
To quote Trey Parker’s excellent observation: “It’s going to be like 9/11 times 100…91100…basically all the worst parts of the bible.”
America you’re fucked, yeah?