Nigel Farage called it exactly right in his good-riddance speech to the European Union: by quitting the EU, Britain is not merely abandoning a marriage of inconvenience; it is getting a long-needed divorce from an ugly brute of a wife-beating loser with bad breath, terrible wind, a tiny penis, no discernible talent and a gambling problem.
Or, as Farage rather more succinctly put it (you’re only allowed short speeches in the EU debating chamber):
It is a bad project. It isn’t just undemocratic, it is antidemocratic.
One of Britain’s most popular and respected newsreaders has been sacked after using on Twitter a Shakespeare quotation that a black activist complained was ‘racist’.
Alastair Stewart, who had been a newsreader at Independent Television News (ITN) for 40 years, was engaged in a Twitter debate with a vexatious nonentity called Martin Shapland, a former Liberal Democrat activist of no known distinction.
Stewart responded to one of Shapland’s sallies with a quotation from Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure:
But man, proud man,
Drest in a little brief authority
Most ignorant of what he’s most assur’d;
His glassy essence, like an angry ape,
Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven,
As make the angels weep.
Dominic Frisby’s “17 Million F*ck-Offs” is, beyond doubt, the greatest song about Brexit ever written.
All right, so the field is not exactly crowded with competition.
Nonetheless, Frisby’s comedic masterpiece — which wittily, liltingly, and swearily celebrates the bravura act of defiance which led 17.4 million Britons to vote for Brexit in the EU referendum, against all the advice of the Establishment ‘experts’ — is, in Brexit terms, like “My Way”, “Bohemian Rhapsody”, “Stairway to Heaven”, and “Mad Dogs and Englishmen” rolled into one.
Nude art is ‘soft porn for the elite’, Cambridge classics Professor Mary Beard warns in a BBC2 documentary apparently contrived to make men feel bad about looking at naked bodies.
According to The Times (of London):
The academic said she still adored looking at masterpieces such as Titian’s Venus of Urbino, in the Uffizi Gallery, Florence, but believed that people should challenge themselves to consider the circumstances of their creation.
“I think western art has centred on a sexualised version of the female body more than other cultures,” she said in an interview with Radio Times. “And I think it’s about opening our eyes to it and saying, ‘What is this? Is this really soft porn for the elite, dressed up in a classical guise?”
Most Renaissance nudes were commissioned by men to be enjoyed by men, she noted. “Where does that leave the female viewer? One of the things we are trying to say is, ‘On what terms can I enjoy looking at a naked woman whose image was drawn and painted, let’s imagine, for the pleasure of the male customer?’”
Men taking pleasure at the sight of the naked female form? No shit, Michelangelo.
Beard’s point, it seems to me, is at once epically banal and fantastically bossy.
Would you buy a communications system from an oppressive, secretive, totalitarian regime which may be responsible for perhaps the deadliest viral pandemic since the catastrophic Spanish Flu outbreak of 1919?
Even before the coronavirus raised its terrifying head, buying 5G technology from China’s Huawei looked like a bad idea for Britain.
Now it’s looking like the most stupid idea since the Trojans saw the Wooden Horse their Greek enemies had left outside the gates of Ilium and said: “Nice! Let’s drag it inside.”
To recap, 5G — which stands for ‘fifth generation’ — is the next wave of wireless telecoms technology. Insanely, against the advice of allies from the U.S. to Australia, the British government has decided to award the contract for this strategically vital communications system to a country which is not only a major geopolitical rival but which is also infamous for spying on its competitors: China.
Plus: Sky’s latest bingewatch Cobra also suffers from trying to advance an unbelievable narrative.
Sky’s latest bingewatch potboiler Cobra can’t quite make up its mind whether it wants to be an arch, knowing House of Cards-meets-The Thick Of It satire about parliamentary intrigue. Or a full-on post-apocalyptic thriller in the manner of Survivors or The Walking Dead. It ends up succeeding in neither.
The premise is that a powerful solar flare is heading towards Britain, leaving the government little time to prepare, and subsequently causing all manner of chaos: plane crashes, hotel fires, escaped prisoners, mass blackouts.
I understand why. He’s a polite, nicely-brought-up, decent fellow who only wants to upset the right people — the Wokerati — not the wrong people (Sikhs, in this instance.)
But it’s still a mistake, not least because it has enabled the BBC to run a story headlined ‘Laurence Fox apologises to Sikhs over WW1 comments’. The natural inference of any casual reader would be that Fox’s apology was justified and necessary. In fact, it was neither.
In what he hailed as the “most important and enduring project of my life”, Soros said it was important to fund institutions that would help resist the drift towards growing authoritarianism in the US, Russia and China. He also launched a fresh attack on Donald Trump, calling the US president “the ultimate narcissist”.
Mission Impossible star Simon Pegg has signed an open letter demanding that multi-millionaires like himself should pay more tax.
The open letter — Millionaires Against Pitchforks — has been released to coincide with the orgy of virtue-signalling by the globalist elite at the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland.
According to the letter both the climate and democracy are at stake:
It is time for us to act. Despite vocal protests to the contrary, most reasonable people understand that philanthropy has always been, and always will be, an inadequate substitute for government investment. Taxes are the best and only appropriate way to ensure adequate investment in the things our societies need. Individuals who reject this truth pose a dual threat both to the climate and to democracy itself, as those seeking to avoid their tax responsibilities are often the same ones manipulating governments and democratic processes around the world for their own gain.
Terry Jones, actor, writer, comedian, medieval scholar and director of Monty Python’s Life of Brian has died aged 77.
Jones’s acting speciality was dressing up in drag and impersonating an endless series of unconvincing women with ridiculous squawky voices; he also played Mr Creosote in the famous ‘waffer theen’ sketch from Meaning of Life.
As well as giving the TV shows their surreal structure — flowing sketches whose absence of punchlines was often explained away by the phrase ‘And now for something completely different…’ , he directed or co-directed all three Python movies, including their masterpiece, Monty Python’s Life of Brian.