What an exciting thing a General Election is! CF has had an election for weeks now.

One of the less exciting aspects is the endless fucking polling. We've suffered from having excessive poll results stuffed down our throats, morning noon and night.

So how valid are these polls? Let's have a little look at the polls following last night's feast of arse, the Leader's debate. What were the results? Well..

A ComRes/ITV debate poll put Mr Cameron at 35%, Mr Clegg on 33% and Mr Brown on 26%.

According to Channel 4 News, Mr Brown won with with 44%, with Mr Clegg on 42% and Mr Cameron on 13%.

YouGov/Sun had a bigger win for Mr Cameron, on 41%, with Mr Clegg on 32% and Mr Brown on 25%.

Populus for the Times called it a draw; Mr Cameron and Clegg level on 38%, with the prime minister on 25%.

ICM for the Guardian saw Mr Cameron win with 35%, Mr Brown second at 29% and Mr Clegg at 27%.

According to the famous ITV 'worm', Clegg won, Brown came next and Cameron came last.

That's right: last night, based upon scientifically run polls, Brown won, Cameron won and Clegg won. Clegg also came last, as did Brown. And Cameron. In 2nd place? All of them. And Cameron and Clegg drew.

So, how valid are the polls?

Not in the fucking slightest.


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Either by luck or by judicious application of pressure, Gordon Brown got the very last word in last night's debate. That's a good slot to have - it's much easier to make contentious points when there's no chance of anyone replying or denying.

And this was Brown's last chance to address such a large audience - mill-yuns of people. After this, it's back to hand-picked groups of activists, and stage managed press conferences.

So let's have a little look at what Gordon did, for his grand finale, shall we?

"I want to thank everybody who's been involved in these debates over the last few weeks. They show that there are big causes we can fight for. They also show that big differences exist between the parties"

Big? That'd be nice. But the main difference that we care about is that two of the parties are not Labour, and two of the parties are not led by a half-mad socialist with no popular mandate.

"But I've had the duty of telling you this evening that while we have policies for the future, the Conservatives would put the recovery immediately at risk with an emergency budget"

What? An emergency budget would put the recovery at risk? Should we all not look at our bank statements, in case we discover we've run up an enormous overdraft, you fuckwit?

Any new government is going to need a fresh budget, when it discovers the godawful fucking mess you've been trying to hide from us. And guess what? With you out of the way, Gordo, it'll be the first non-political budget, the first budget that's about finance rather than damaging the oppostion, that we've had for 13 years. Bring it on.

"David has not been able to confirm, but it is the case that inheritance tax cuts will go to the richest people in the country"

Oh please. Five fucking times you mentioned this in the debate. And endless times over recent weeks. No-one cares. If that's the only consistent line of attack you have - and it is - you're pretty much fucked.

"I believe he's planning to cut the Schools Budget .. I believe also that child tax credits would be cut by both parties if they came into a coalition"

Has anyone spotted a Labour policy yet? Anyone? No? This is literally your last chance, McBroon, to tell us what you would do, what your policies are. Surely you 'believe' more than these distortions and lies about your oppositions' plans?

"I believe too that policing would be at risk from a Conservative government.." 

Oh fuck off with 'I believe'; did your spinners tell you that if you used that phrase, you we allowed to follow it with a lie? I believe the sky is pink. I believe Gordon Brown is wearing a nappy. For fucks sake, credit us with some intelligence.

"And the health service guarantees that we have that gives every cancer patient the right to see a specialist within two weeks would be scrapped by the Conservative Government if they came into power"

Come on, Gordy, don't hold back. Look into the camera, and tell us that if we don't vote Labour, we're all going to die of cancer. Go on boy: really terrify us; scare the vulnerable into liking you. Frighten up some Labour votes, eh?

"I don't like having to do this, but I have to tell you.."

You don't like it? Bollocks - you fucking love it. It's what you do best - in fact, it's pretty much the only thing you do. Attacking opponents, smashing them aside, abusing and traducing them, whether they're an opposition party or an old lady: it's what you like better than anything, isn't it?

"..that things are too important to be left to risky policies under these two people. They are not ready for government, because they have not thought through their policies"

Ah, 'policies'. Now there's a difference between the parties: they've just described their policies, you've just wasted you whole final summing up with attacks on their policies. You idiot. What about your policies? Do you have any?

"We are desperate to get this country through the recession and into the recovery"

No you're not, you're 'desperate' to stay in power, come what may. To you, 'the recovery' is just an abstract point on a list - another way to save the world - something that could scrape together a couple more votes.

"..and that is what I intend to continue to do. But it's up to the people to decide, and it's your decision"

Yeah, Gordo it is. And it's a decision you should have given us a long, long time ago. You have clung to power for as long as you possibly could, and now you and your band of imbeciles can't cling on any longer

Goodbye, Gordon. With a bit of luck, that's the last we'll ever hear from you.

Thanks for nothing.


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There aren't many papers, magazines and journals that are still prepared to spin for Gordon Brown and the 'are-they-not-dead-yet?' Labour Party, but the New Statesman is one of the few that are.

James Macintyre, of that august journal, is clearly one of the remaining people in Britain - fuck that, in the Universe - who thinks that Gordo' and NuLab are A Good Thing, and that the rest of us need to be told that, repeatedly and regularly.

He's had his work cut out in the last 24 hours, has James. After yesterday's slight campaign hiccup, #BigotGate. he's been posting on his little Staggers blog like a man possessed.

As the story broke, just a few hours ago, he lead the charge to cover for Gordo, blaming Mrs Duffy:

".. voters in the street should not harangue him in a rude way: it is too much like bear-baiting, and Brown is, after all, only human."

Shortly afterwards, following the oh-my-god-he's-made-it-even-worse radio interview, Macintyre continued the feeble justifications:

"He admitted he found the woman's views on immigration "annoying", which at least shows passion".

A short time after this, with the story now all over the media, Macintyre posted again, more in hope than certainty:

"Brown’s opponents will go wild over “bigot-gate”. Yet there may be a backlash"

A backlash, you fucking cretin? Against whom? Against Mrs Duffy for daring to disagree? Against the media, for having the cheek to report Broon's words verbatim?

Later in the afternoon, like some never-stopping left-wing Duracell Bunny, he was at it again:

"my prediction remains that -- just as with past attempts by the Sun and the Observer to portray Brown as a bully -- it won't really "cut through". It may -- just possibly -- not be too late for Brown to .. benefit from a counter-wave of sympathy"

Yeah, right. We all love a man who slags off old ladies behind their back, don't we Jimmy?

James, worn out by his efforts, then had an early night. Or at least, there were no more posts from him. But sure enough, come this morning, he was at it again.

His first post was clearly pre-written before #bigotgate kicked off as it makes no mention, instead focussing on the urgent need for us all to vote Labour (and not, under any circumstances, vote Lib Dem), regardless of the gurning lunatic at the helm. Lazily quoting Labour spin-monkey Alexander Douglas, he writes:

"This contest is a moment of great peril and great possibility for progressives. I know that there are voters .. who are angry about Iraq, anxious on Afghanistan and concerned about civil liberties. But I also know that they would be horrified if they woke up on 7 May and realised that their vote for the Lib Dems contributed to Cameron standing on the steps of 10 Downing Street"

Wonder if Mrs Duffy thinks that way?

With his pre-written post delivered, Macintyre was clearly itching to get back to defending his hero. So much so, that he even 'umbly suggested some soundbites that McDoom might wish to use in tonight's debate:

"Yesterday, I made a bad mistake. After hours of campaigning on the road, and after misunderstanding some perfectly innocent remarks, I allowed my frustrations to get the better of me in the privacy of my car. .. I only blame myself. Why? Because I betrayed myself. .."

"in the past twenty four hours, I have learned something about myself.. And in turn, I have promised myself and I promise you now: I will always strive to improve. .. I live to serve: to get up early every morning and fight hard for British values, and not go to bed until the day's fighting has been done. "

Fucking hell; pass the sick bag, Alice. We can only guess what Gordon might call you if he actually read that farrago of bullshit, James, but it wouldn't be pretty.

And then, after he'd had his lunch, James couldn't resist going back for one more kiss of the son-of-the-Manse's arse. Yes: he posted, for the sixth fucking time in two days, on the same subject. Once again, he's pushing that this doesn't really matter at all:

"..the growing consensus that Brown's "bigot-gate" is a storm in a tea-cup .. It does indeed appear that the opinions of those with independence of thought .. are rather more varid [sic] than those of the right-wing press."

Bless. Such faith. Such trust.

Such utter fucking desperation.

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As usual, when Gordon Brown makes a mistake, it's everyone else's fault, not his. As usual, when the Labour party makes a huge, widely-reported gaffe, the spinners and the smearers come out swinging, counter-attacking everybody and everything.

And this time, the whispering wormtongues are joined in battle by an great big Orc. Yes, swinging his meaty metaphorical fists, John Prescott has attacked the media that dared to report his master's idiot gaffe. There's no regret expressed, because none of it was Gordon's fault - it was all the media. Booo.

Writing in - or more likely, dictating to - the Guardian today, Prezza explains, through mouthfuls of pie, that BigotGate was 'all a Murdoch plot'. Really? Oh yes. According to John:

"Yet again, the dying Murdoch empire is doing all it can to influence a British election"

And we've all missed that, deluded fools and closet bigots that we are:

"While the media are concentrating on what he said and the apology, the real story is how and why it happened"

Is it? Is it fucking really? We all thought that the real story was that Brown's famed ill-temper and typical hypocrisy were exposed to millions, as he slagged off a lifetime Labour voter who'd had the temerity to ask him some questions he'd rather not answer. That what 'he said' and 'the apology' were the real, entire story.

But Johnny P. says we're all wrong. What really happened was that:

"..the Murdoch family reached a new low in their desperate attempt to turn the election for the Tories."

Really? So now it's not even a business, it's a family that's attacking poor wee Gordy. What dastardly deeds did they desperately do, John?

Did they drop a heavily made-up actress from a helicopter into Gordon's path? Was it Sam Cam in disguise, lurking in a hedge to discredit the hopeless fucker still further? Or did Sky, perhaps, offer an old woman a thousand pounds to go up to Gordon and shout 'Send 'em home' in a quavering voice? No, none of that. What the eevil empire did was:

"..broadcast a private conversation between Gordon and his staff ..  just as bad as his paper's phone-hacking. It was a breach of privacy. It was underhand. And it was done in the pursuit of ratings .."

Hang on a fucking minute, John. They didn't exactly have to hide in the fucking boot of the car to get this 'private conversation', did they? The great clunking fuckwit forgot to turn off his microphone, for fuck's sake. And all his retinue of media advisors, fluffers and whisperers didn't notice.

So then, when Gordo' let his gurning, grinning 'vote for me' mask slip, and said what he really thought, let his utter contempt for the public show clearly through, his views went straight into the earpieces of dozens Sky reporters.

And the only little bit of right in that hatful of wrong you just handed us, Prezza, is that Sky did this 'in pursuit of ratings'. Well, duh. A news organisation breaks a story, in the hope that it will increase its ratings? Again, duh.

As always, your views are a compendium of bollocks, Prezza. We all know that you, Gordon Brown, the Labour party and your union pay masters all have the same view of the rest of us: useful idiots, a source of cash and votes to be milked when the need arises, but otherwise to be totally ignored. Gordon doesn't want to speak to the public: he just wants them to vote for him, and then fuck off back to their miserable little lives, while he steers the great ship of state.

He couldn't give a flying fuck about what some old dear thinks about immigration, or anything else. He was furious not that someone had different views to his entrenched views, but that she had been able to say so on prime-time TV, where other voters could hear her.

Have another sausage roll, and shut the fuck up.



+UPDATE+: Great minds think alike: JuliaM, that ol' Ambush Predator, feels the same way about Prezza
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Oh Gordon, Gordon, Gordon. What the fuck have you done?

Well, what you've done is show millions and millions of people - millions of voters - what you're really like. What lies behind the distorted, fake smile.

Today, as part of Gordo's 'I'm-not-really-scared-of-the-public' initiative, a random pensioner was wheeled on, to touch the hem of our saviour.

But Gillian Duffy - 'I'm 66, you know' - was not 'on message'. Oh no. She had the temerity to challenge McBroon on a number of issues, including immigration and crime.

McDoom nodded, smiled, and pretended to listen. As he bolted for the safety of his carers and his car, Gordon kept on smarming: "Very nice to meet you, very nice to meet you."

But as soon as he was in the car, not realising he still had a microphone pinned to his shirt, he said what he really thought:

"That was a disaster - they should never have put me with that woman. Whose idea was that? It's just ridiculous ... She's just a sort of bigoted woman ... I mean it's just ridiculous. I don't know why Sue brought her up towards me."

For years, many of us have been saying that Broon is a twisted, bitter, blinkered zealot, so obsessed with his own goals and 'val-yews' that he will trample, smear, ignore or traduce anyone who stands in his way.

Even official BBC lickspittle, Nick Robinson, says:

"For those of us that have known Gordon Brown for many years, what we have just seen is no huge surprise I have to say."

So, now the real McBroon is laid bare. A man who is not fit for any office, for any responsibility, let alone that of Prime Minister.

CF has little to add, other than..

We fucking told you so.


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Greece has become had the honour of being the first eurozone member to have its debt downgraded to "junk" status. Portugal's credit rating has also been cut by two-notches to A-minus.

And, as we all know, the poor old UK is not far behind. In the league tables of Financially Fucked Nations, we're hovering just below the Greeks and the Portugese, behind only on goal difference.

But at least the Greek Government is gettin' busy, running around the world with the begging bowl, admitting to their problems, seeking help wherever they can find it, and making the cutbacks necessary.

What about us? What about our Government? What about Gordon 'Prudence' Brown? After all, he saved the entire world last year, and with his entirely-self-proclaimed financial genius, surely he's made sure that the UK won't face Greece's problems?

Well, no, of course he fucking hasn't

This morning, the Institute of Fiscal Studies have pointed out that not only are the current government not at all clear on what they need to do to keep us off the 'junk' heap, but neither are the other two parties - you know, the two who say they'd like to take over and clear up the mess.

The IFS says that no party has come "anywhere close" to making clear where the axe would fall after the general election. This, they add, was despite the parties' plans implying the deepest cuts in spending since the 1970s.

Now, you could, at a pinch, with a gun to your head, concede that the Lib Dems and the Tories have a tiny reason for this vagueness: they don't actually have any of the figures for the last 13 miserable years. They haven't been running the economy, trying to balance the books. They can only guess at what's been going on, and at the true extent of our problems.

But do Labour have this excuse? Nope. They're holding all the numbers; they guard them jealously, and we'll never, ever get to see 'em unspun and unedited, but they've got 'em.

Labour has refused to publish departmental spending plans, because .. because .. well, why? Purely because it would reveal many more of the endless monstrous cock-ups they've made during their time at the helm.

And has Labour been hoping that they can pull off a last minute fix, prove they were right? Get real. They've forgotten all about the economy, and hope that we do too; they're dicking about with Elvis impersonators and cartoon fucking pigs, and telling us we'll all die of cancer if we vote Tory.

So we've got two parties that are not allowed to see the books, and have to guess at what needs to done to prevent us slithering down the same slope as Greece, and one party that does have all the numbers, but quite clearly has absolutely no fucking clue what to do to prevent us joining the Greeks and the Portuguese in the queue outside the International Monetary Fund.

Let's face it, whatever happens on May 6th, we're fucked.

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Just watch this. This is a Labour Party Election Broadcast, and .. no .. just fucking watch it:





How utterly fucking desperate to cling to power would you have to be to commission this fucking swamp of tendentious shit?

How completely deluded, cynical and amoral must you be if you really believe that this is the right message?

How completely terrified of losing your place on the gravy train do you need to be to watch this, nod, and approve its distribution?

You worthless, cynical pieces of shit.

You fucking pointless wastes of oxygen.

You utter, irredeemable cunts.

If this is how you really think politics should be 'done', then you don't fucking deserve to be in politics.



(tip of the hat to Iain 'Ma' Dale; even that model of self control, is moved to say "What a disgusting bunch of shits they really are. No, strike that. The people who approved this are c***s". Yup).

Look everyone, this is Becky. What a nice looking lady. And she looks like she might have no clothes on, too.

Those of you who are interested in that sort of thing need to buy a copy of today's Sun, and turn to page 3, where Becky is showing us .. well .. everything.

For those who are more interested in sustaining an enormous election, Becky has something too.

Yes: Becky, although she hasn't remembered to put on any clothes, has remembered the lessons that political history teaches us.

Becky has thought - long and hard - about our elections, and she's worried that this election might not give her all that she wants.

To quote from the speech bubble that is hovering a lot nearer Becky's anatomy than most of us will ever get:

"Becky is concerned by the prospect of electoral reform in a hung parliament"

Are you, sweetheart? Oh dear. Well, cop hold of this, and tell us why, would you?

"In legislatures with proportional representation, minority or coalition government is often the norm."

Really? Well, do tell us more, darlin'.

"I'd hate to live in a country like Italy that has had 61 governments in 65 years - even if I do love Italian food."

Lessons in politics from a topless model?

For fuck's sake...


(tip of the hat to manic at bloggerheads for this one)

Our friends from North of the Border are not happy. In fact, the Scottish Nationalists are 'furious': they've not been allowed to appear in the the finals of EleX-factor, the great debate.

So very furious are the party that they're going to do what every normal British person does these days when they can't get exactly what they want, exactly when they want it: they're going to sue someone.

After raising £50,000 to fund their court battle, the party will this morning lodge papers at the Court of Session in Edinburgh. SNP deputy leader Nicola Sturgeon will go to the court to hand over the papers, which doubtless open with the phrase so beloved of the self-diagnosed-disadvantaged: 'It's no' fair!'

Apparently, the party is seeking a 'judicial review' of the BBC decision to exclude it from Thursday night's grand final, where particpants will be singing a medley of Michael Jackson hits. 'Aye, judge, we want oor turn'.

The SNP would like Alex Salmond to be included in the debate, presumably so that he can inform the United Kingdom what he and his six fellow MP's will do when they somehow .. err ... hold the majority of seats in the UK parliament after the General Election.

They don't think it's right or balanced for the debate to proceed with just the three party leaders already booked to appear.

The poor, deluded sods have only got one chance.

If Gordon Brown and his advisors admitted to themselves that, every time his grey and gurning face appears on television, Labour haemorrhage thousands more votes; and if David Cameron and his advisors admit that, every time he appears on television, the camera shows him for the shiny public relations weasel he really is, things might change.

If the lightbulbs came on over their heads, two out of the three parties involved in the debate would realise that yet another one of these festivals of arse was ill-advised in the extreme.

They'd realise that the only real beneficiary of these debates has ever been Nick Smugg; and who cares what he thinks?

If that were the case, then there would be a lot of not-very-subtle pressure on the BBC (behind the scenes, naturally) to have the final debate cancelled.

But that wouldn't happen, would it?

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Surely, surely, CF is not alone in being heartily sick and tired of seeing - everywhere he fucking well looks - the clegg face of Nick Smugg?

With only a few days left in the General Election campaign, and with the Great British Public still undecided as to whether to fart or wind its watch, the media bombardment is unceasing. And, as a result, it's virtually impossible to escape the gurning visage of Britain's favourite Dutch-Russian wannabe Prime Minster, the Boy Clegg.

Following his success in the latest edition of the watched-by-less-people-than-Doctor-Who debates, the semi-finals of EleX-factor, Nick's rather full of himself.

The phrase 'King-maker' has apparently gone to his head, and we're treated to daily pronoucements of how it's gonna be, how parliament will work, under the benevolent rule of Lord Clegg. Which feels rather like the mouse in CF's kitchen telling him where he should leave the cheese tonight.

But - as ever - leave it to the writers of the Daily Mash to sum up the Lib Dem's attitude and approach, far better than CF ever could:

"Meanwhile Lib Dem sensation Nick Clegg has insisted it would be 'preposterous' if the next prime minster came from the party which comes third but has the largest number seats, stressing it should obviously be the party which comes second and has the smallest number of seats."

Well, yeah.

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What the fuck does Michael Gove eat for breakfast? Whatever is, CF would like a bowl of it: the eevil Tory was on sparkling form this morning.

It's not many politicians who can get the better of the Today programme's John Humphrys, but Gove managed to hand him his arse on a plate in just ten minutes today.

Gove had been got out of bed early to discuss the words of Paul Carter, a Tory council leader who had apparently criticised the party's policy on education.

Gove took the wind out of Humph's sails straight away, by revealing that he'd spoken with Carter already. "What, since we spoke with him?" asked Humphrys, outraged to have his scoop scooped. Oh yes.

Humph' was then further unbalanced by the inevitable, should-have-been-forseen claim that Carter's words had been taken "out of context" and that - of course - he actually completely supported the Tory policy.

But don't worry, added Gove, phasers set to 'patronize', it's "..understandable at election time that the BBC would be keen to create a story like this". "Create?" spluttered Humph', but Gove had moved on.

Humphrys stepped up a gear, and began to throw in some tougher questions. Gove swatted them away, pointing out that Johnny was merely repeating Labour smears: "You're better than that, John" he added. Shame it wasn't televison: we couldn't actually see Johnny going puce with rage, but he surely was.

As Humph' got madder and madder, Gove continued, banging out the soundbites, pouring scorn on Labour and ploughing through the endless attempted interruptions.

When Humph' finally got another question in, Gove calmly dismissed it as "..your elegant argument..", then dodged it anyway

As Gove continued, Humph' sulkily pointed out that this was "..not a party election broadcast".

No, agreed Gove, it's an interview where I tell you about Tory thinking.

"We'll you've had ten minutes for that" pouted Johnny petulantly.

"Most of which has been taken up with you asking me questions" replied Gove, smoothly.

"Well, we'll change the system" said Humph' sarcastically

"No, we'll change the system.." replied Gove, going on to deliver the remainder of his set text, with Humphrys reduced to spluttering impotently in the background.

So rattled was the nation's favourite interrupter that he could barely managed to bring the interview to a close. He just could not stop Gove, who must be very pleased with his ten minutes' work today.

If (and it is if) Humph' allows the BBC to put the interview online, CF will update with the link.

Most excellent listening.


++ Update ++    Hat-tip to commenter 'enslaver' who reckons you can listen here.
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Yet another example of slippery Labour lies, and how hard it is for the Tories - or indeed the new, improved Lib-Dems - to lay a glove on the bastards.

Iain Dale was listening to Hattie Harperson, being interviewed by Stephen Nolan on '5 Live'.

Amongst the torrent of lies, distortions and untruths, he spotted that..

"..she guaranteed that over the lifetime of a Parliament no public sector worker would get a pay cut"

As Ma Dale points out:

"She has no power to do that, it wasn't in the Labour Party manifesto .. Alistair Darling will be absolutely fizzing with fury."

Well, Iain, she might have 'no power' to make policy, but she has all the power she wants to tell lies. In all likelihood, this is just yet another little fib. It's not in the manifesto because its not fucking true.

However, what can the other parties do?

If they talk about it, draw attention to it, point out that it's probably a porky, there'll be an instant cry of "Oh, so they won't guarantee it? They will cut public sector pay! Look, everybody, the eevil Tories / eevil Lib Dems are promising to cut public sector pay. Ewwwwww!"

If they don't mention it, then yet another Labour lie sinks into the minds of their core voters.

And that's how they work.

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The Foreign Office has had to apologise for what they call a "foolish" internal document, which mocks one of the Sky Fairy's main men here on earth: it actually - gasp - makes some facetious jokes about the Pope.

A source told the BBC News website the individual since moved to other duties had called the group of junior staff together for "some blue-skies creative thinking" about how to make the Pope's visit a success".

The group suggested Benedict XVI could show his hard line on the sensitive issue of child abuse allegations against Roman Catholic priests by "sacking dodgy bishops" and launching a helpline for abused children. It also listed "positive" public figures who could be made part of the Pope's visit, including former Prime Minister Tony Blair (what? that war-monger?) and pop-moose Susan Boyle.

Then, inevitably, bored by such a tedious subject, staff began to make flippant suggestions.

The document went on to propose the Pope could apologise for the Spanish Armada or sing a song with the Queen for charity. Then, gathering momentum, someone suggested the Pope's visit to the UK could be marked by the launch of "Benedict" condoms. Another wag countered with the idea that pope could be invited to open an abortion clinic. How about we get him to bless a gay marriage? How they must have chuckled!

But then, inevitably, some joyless member of the Righteous took offence, and an inquiry had to be launched. Inevitably the document got leaked, so that lots more people could join in and also take offence.

A Foreign Office spokesman said the department was "deeply sorry" for any offence the document had caused. Naturally, Foreign Secretary David Miliband "appalled" by the incident. Yeah, right.

The individual responsible has been "transferred to other duties". He's also "been told orally and in writing that this was a serious error of judgement and has accepted this view."

And that's that. A tiny storm in a tiny teacup.

They're all a lot luckier than they realise, these junior staff. Just imagine if, instead of the Pope, the visitor being discussed was Muslim cleric. Imagine that.

The front page of every paper would carry the story.

The Foreign Office would be beseiged. Angry men with beards would have been waving banners in the street outside, shouting and shaking their fists.

Professional offence-takers would have poured petrol all over the fire: Yasmin Alibhai-Brown would had bored us all to tears with her endless outpourings.

Milliband would have been under enormous pressure to resign, to apologise, to cry on television.

Investigations would have taken place at all levels. The 'racism' word would somehow get itself attached to the proceedings.

And, of course, the identities of the 'junior staff' would have been leaked, by a Muslim sympathiser.

And then they would have been 'properly' punished for their temerity - windows broken, cars smashed up.

Remember what happened to Theo Van Gogh, who was not entirely positive about Islam? A dissenter to his views ..

".. shot van Gogh eight times with an HS 2000 handgun, and Van Gogh died on the spot. .. then cut Van Gogh's throat, and stabbed him in the chest. Two knives were left implanted in his torso, one attaching a five-page note to his body. "

So, very lucky indeed. 'Transferred to other duties' is a lot better than dead, eh?

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As any person of consequence and tone is well aware, blogger Old Holborn is standing for Parliament in Cambridge in the coming General Election.

He announced via his blog that he was going to be canvassing in Cambridge today: "Feel free to ask me awkward questions".

CF lives in the area, and the intentions were good: go to the town marketplace and become a part of the political process. Ask questions. Share views. Take part.

But the meadow by the river in Granchester, just at the edge of town, was so peaceful, and the sun was so very warm, and the beer in the cool box was so very, very cold that .. somehow .. the day seems to have slipped away.

And after all, politics are important, but they're not that important...

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At the end of a long, misguided and ultimately futile war, the misguided and insane Authoritarian leader Adolf Hitler eventually retreated to his bunker and took his own life.

It appears that the Labour Party intend to take a leaf out of that his book, and do exactly the same. Party suicide. End of the road.

Well, how else can you explain the fact that Labour have announced that from now on, Gordon Brown will be a "a more visible presence" in their general election.

What? What the fuck? Broon is the main reason the whole campaign's floundering in the first place, and the main reason that Labour stand no chance of victory.

He's got a personal popularity rating deeply in negative figures, sitting in the league tables just below Bernard Manning, and giving family butcher Fred West a good run for his money.

He is also completely, utterly incapable of interaction with other human beings. His manic fake grin would scare highly-trained police horses into bolting, for fuck's sake: imagine if he tried to kiss a baby?

When asked the simplest of questions he reels off enormous lists of irrelevant and largely false statistics: how's that going to go down on the doorstep when some old dear asks why her winter fuel allowance hasn't come through and has a huge list of imaginary investments in military equipment bellowed at her in a Scottish accent?

So surely, putting the man the most of the country loves to hate at the forefront of a failing campaign is a not-very-subtle way of raising the white flag, while simultaneously rummaging through the pockets for the cyanide capsules? Surely?

Or do they still think they can win this? Let's ask that most mindlessly loyal of Labourites, salad-dodging, toilet-breaking John Prescott, shall we? When asked on Radio 4 if thought Labour were currently on course to "storm ahead to a great victory", Prescott replied:

"No they're not - but you've got to fight for it.."

And if Prezza's given up, it's really is the end.

Pass the Labour Party that service revolver, would you?

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Last night, as Brown stumbled and mumbled through his carefully crafted soundbites, one that he did remember, through the haze of strong medication, was the claim that CallMeDave Cameron favours "a big society at home, but Little Britain abroad".

Proof that this little nugget was pre-cooked came within seconds, when this oh-so-hilarious poster was released from the Labour bunker:




Oh, our poor, aching sides.  However, not to be out-done, the other group of Oscar Wildes over in CCHQ wittily riposted with their own effort:




Oh! With this wit, this satire, you're spoiling us. Such a banquet of levity! Please, stop with the jokes.

No, really.


(tip of the hat to the Staggers, who unsurprisingly interpret the exchange entirely differently)

The Deep-frying Scotsman, Rantin' Rab, wrote this piece - from a Scot to the English - some time ago, but as he says, St George's Day is a good day to revisit it.

Get yersel' over and read the whole piece - it's excellent. The highlights:

"..there aren't any 'no go' areas for the indigenous population up here, immigration is not a huge deal and our councils don't really spy on us. We have no 'plastic plod',.. and it is illegal for cars to be clamped.

"Our health care seems to be far ahead of England, as is our care of the elderly. Free prescriptions for everyone is just around the corner, Wales and Northern Ireland have similar free prescription schemes. Further education is free at the point of use, ... My council tax bill has not risen for the third year in a row.

"In Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland our flags fly free and proud. The saltire can be found fluttering from flag poles at schools, public and private buildings up and down the land. No one would dream of ordering it to be taken down. No one would associate it with any terms ending in 'ist' or 'phobe'. In England it's a different story.

"What happened to you lot? Why have you let this happen? Why aren't you out rioting in the streets?

"As an 'outsider' looking towards England, I see a country that is ashamed of itself for no good reason whatsoever. A country that has no identifiable culture, or to be accurate, a culture that has been swept under the rug and ignored. All other cultures and practices are tolerated and celebrated.

"I see a country that is being screwed into the ground, bled dry. Parasites from all over the world flock to it to share in the feast. England's colonial past and proud history are not taught in the schools. Children are taught to be ashamed of the past, embarrassed to be English.

"But, who allowed this to happen? Who allowed the erosion of freedom and liberty, the petty rules to creep in, the rise of the socialist utopia experiment that has back fired spectacularly.."

"Who allowed the little hitlers to control your lives? Who allowed them to brand your country's flag as a racist banner? Who allowed it all to go horribly wrong?

"You did. The English."

"Grow a set of balls and do something about it. For all our sakes."

Well said, you caber-tossin', haggis-munching porridge-wog, well said.

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Yes, it's the day when we celebrate Saint George, the chosen Saint for the EU regions Eastern, East Midlands, North East, North West, South East, Yorkshire and Humber, South West, West Midlands, and London. Huzzah!

Many years ago, St George used be the patron saint of a place called 'England'.

England was one of four countries - with 'Scotland', 'Northern Ireland' and 'Wales' - making up what was hilariously named 'The United Kingdom'.

The nine regions are still governed by the Parliament of the United Kingdom; there hasn't been a Government of England since 1707. All of the other countries of the United Kingdom have devolved governments.

MPs from Scotland and Wales sit in England, and vote on legislation affecting only England. The Prime Minister of the United Kingdom is from Scotland.

English MPs, however, have no right to legislate on devolved matters in Scotland or Wales.

England contains 84% of the population of the UK, but is the only country of the United Kingdom not to have free cancer treatment. Or free prescriptions. Or free residential care for the elderly. Or free top-up university fees.

It also used to be that the 'English' flag was flown on this day. However, it is now considered xenophobic - even racist - to do so, so this practice is strongly discouraged.

So, there's much to celebrate today.

Happy St George's Day!

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Top angry blogger Al Jahom was on his usual vituperative form yesterday. In fact, he surpassed even his own high standards, in this post, where he described the not-particularly-tragic death of some chav in Manchester, stabbed during an altercation following his pissing through the letterbox of some put-upon bloke who'd complained about loud music. No CF doesn't care who started it either.

Al described the situation:

"I can picture the scene. These degenerate chav shitheads have been winding this bloke up for hours, days, weeks and months. Finally he snaps"

Somehow, the Neanderthals of the Manchester area where this happened have discovered the post, and piled into the comments.

And what a delight it is to read. You wonder whether any of these people have ever seen the inside of a school, other than from a carrycot beside their mum's desk.

"..but im not scum like you lot are…

i knew asnthony and was a friend of his i also hope for yoursakes you stay away from rochdale as there are over 1000+ people who liked anthony

anthony was no chav he didnt even no the fuckin bloke wateva in the newspaper is aload ov bullshit"

But most hilarious is the logical leap made by several posters: seeing the blog name - Al Jahom's Final Word - they assumed that the author is - of course - a 'PAKI':

"LISTEN U FUCKIN PAKI, ANTHONY WAS THE NICEST PERSON I EVER MET AND WHAT THE SUN ARE PRINTING IN THE PAPERS IS ALL BOLLOX

if an asian tends to write these blogs then follow your own advice , get back to were u come from then the real scum would be out of britain

you all wanna actually read wot really happened to him instead of listenin to some stupid clueless cold PAKI CUNT

..your laws, religion and smell are a joke….. BATH MORE then f off"

Way to go, you fucking bunch of Burberry'd Einsteins.

Lock your doors tonight, AJ.

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What's that clanging sound? Oh, it's the sound of a bright yellow halo, clattering to the ground.

Poor old Nick 'Saint Nick' Clegg. A few weeks ago, most people had never heard of him, and - although he was the leader of a political party - he could pretty much do and say whatever he wanted.

He could certainly say whatever he wanted in the House of Commons: his pre-allocated 'slot' at Prime Minister's Question was always used by most MP's as a chance to chat to their neighbour, continue bellowing about the last Cameron question or pop out for a quick snort of meow meow.

And he and his party could definitely say whatever they wanted to to the electorate. After all, they had no chance of getting near the levers of power, so no chance of being called upon to deliver - or even go into detai on - their many promises.

Jam tomorrow? Why of course. Mansion tax? Why not? Dive into the Euro? Absolutely! Amnesty for illegal immigrants? You betcha!

But now, all of that has changed. Cleggy is a celebrity. He was the outright winner of the first round of EleX-Factor, and the nation hangs upon his every word. He's going to be the next Prime Minister you know; and Chancellor, and Home Secretary.

And with great fame, comes great scrutiny, grasshopper.

So, Cleggy needs to be whiter than white. He's spoken out against sleaze, against expenses fiddling. He's not part of the 'old politics', he tells us. How does that stand up to scrutiny, then?

Well it collapses immediately, of course.

We learn today, courtesy of the Daily Telegraph that forf some time the Sainted Nick was paid regular monthly sums, donations, by three unnamed "senior businessmen", directly .. wait for it ... into his personal account.

What? Donations to the party, channeled into an MP's private bank account? Sounds like the corrupt, pocket-lining old politics, doesn't it?

Good job Clegg doesn't do 'old' politics, eh?

Clegg claims that the money was not for him - oh no - but to pay for staff. As the Telegraph says

"It is not clear why Mr Clegg would require the extra funds as the salaries were apparently covered by the taxpayer. He also made separate claims from his office expenses to cover staffing assistance provided by the Liberal Democrats"

And a spokesman for Mr Clegg, while insisting that the money was for 'part of' a researcher’s salary, admitted that he was “not in a position” to provide the necessary paperwork. Yeah, right.

Good job Clegg doesn't do all that 'sleaze', eh? It's well beneath him.

And how did the Telegraph get hold of these statements? Did they go through his bins? Nah, not necessary. Clegg lazily submitted copies of his personal bank statements to the House of Commons when claiming expenses, highlighting the items he wanted us to pay, like the mortgage payments for his second home.

That sounds a bit like, well, every-other-fucking-MP, doesn't it? The expenses gravy-train.

Wouldn't it be nice if we could all get the highlighter pen out, mark a couple of items on our bank statements and then have them paid for us? No tedious forms, no justification, just a swipe of a pen. 'Pay me this, this and this. Oh, and this.'

Good job Clegg's loftily above all that expenses nonsense, eh?

In fact, all in all, it sounds like Nick Clegg is just the kind of breath of fresh air, the kind of 'change' that our tired ol' corrupt political systems needs, doesn't it?

Like fuck it does.

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Bad news for fans of the endlessly amusing 'Downfall' spoofs to be found littering the sites of lazy bloggers across the world.

The makers of the original film (it was from a film? Who knew?) have demanded that Youtube immediately remove all of the spoofs that have so enthralled us.

But the most galling thing is that many of the downfall spoofs were used to take the piss out of Gordo' McBroon and his NuLabour chums. Now there's one less channel of mockery for the one-eyed son of the Manse, and all his woeful acolytes.

Are you wondering why Broon featured so often? Here's a review of the original film:

"..a long, riveting, detailed movie about a nation at the mercy of a poisonous ideology and a .. fanatic who has led them to the brink of an abyss.

Played with a horrifying intensity .. this Hitler is a petulant, capricious child who has imposed his will on everyone around him and created a system to enforce it."

Surely, there'll never be a more accurate satire...

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Bad news for Gordo this morning. The naive young boy who he'd hoped to trick into giving him a piggy-back all the way up the hill to the Premiership has decided that he might not want to do that.

Yes, Calamity Clegg has said that he may not want to ally with McBroon: apparently, he's as profoundly unimpressed with him and his woeful party as the rest of us

In an interview with the Daily Telegraph, the Boy Wonder criticises Labour's total lack of acheivement in the 13 long, looong years they've been inflicted upon us:

"..do I think Labour delivered fairness? No. Do I think the Labour Party in its heart has a faith in civil liberties? No. Do I think they’ve delivered political reform? No"

Exactly. So why does Cleggy think Brown is cosying up to him and the Lib Dems? Why has the Labour party manifesto been completely replaced with the single phrase "I agree with Nick"?

".. he is a desperate politician .. I just do not believe him .. They are clutching at straws.”

See, Gordon, even young Nick, barely out of short trousers, can see right through you. 'Desperate' is the very word.

The trouble is, all politicians, even Saint Nicolas of Clegg, are fundamentally 'desperate' for power. And this is Nick's only chance, literally.

With the polls pointing to a hung parliament, and with the current fucked-up electoral system meaning that Labour are likely to win the most seats, in spite of polling in 3rd place, opportunity knocks for Cleggy.

On the day after the general election, with Labour holding the most seats in a hung Parliament, what are you gonna do, Nick? You're going to let yourself be led gently into a quiet room in Westminster, and you're going to listen to a lot of lies about how marvellous you and your policies are, and how they'll all be adopted, if you'll just sign here, Mr Clegg.

You'll be promised a referendum on PR, you'll be guaranteed that Mansion Tax is brought in, you'll be offered a nice role in the Cabinet - Home Secretary, perhaps.

Then you'll step out into a press conference, where you'll announce that you and 'Gordon' have come up with a brilliant plan to guarantee us a glittering future, and to say how much you'll be looking forward to working with Prime Minister Brown.

Then we'll all know that, in spite of today's fine words, you're just like Brown, you're just like the rest:

Desperate and dishonest

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For once, Gordon Brown has come clean; been - temporarily - honest; spoken his mind. But the guys at the Indie were listening, and this is their front page. No, really:

Yes, Gordo wants to build a 'progressive' alliance with Elecx-Factor winner Cleggy. For fuck's sake.

What did CF tell you? Yes, we're in for five more years of Brown domination? See?

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New political betting website Smarkets is offering all sorts of bets in the run-up to what must be one of the most exciting General Elections we'll have in the UK this year.

They're offering odds on many outcomes, including who will be the next home secretary.

Based upon what CF said yesterday, regarding master manipulator Broon shoving the boy Clegg into the Home Office to get rid of him, this looks like a pretty good bet:

Yes, Nick Clegg at 3 to 1 to become the next home secretary. Less likely than Hattie? Yeah, right.

Well, from here it looks like that Labour will - thanks to the X-factor debating series - have the upper hand in a hung parliament.

And you can depend upon Broon to do whatever it takes to keep him in the driving seat, and to silence any opposition.

So, CF likes those odds.

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What a hero! Once again, Gordon Brown saves the world. Well, that small part of the world's population who don't know how to hire a car or book a ferry.

After a meeting of the emergency planning committee Cobra, the Prime Minister once again strode onto the stage, and announced to a grateful nation that he was doing everything he could to help hard-working-but-vacationing families.

Yes, HMS Ark Royal and HMS Ocean, presumably that last 2 boats left in our dramatically depleted Navy, will be used to bring home those poor people, suffering the unbearable, intolerable agonies of missing a couple of days work / school / signing on whilst stuck overseas.

Said Broon, holding up his chin and gazing heroically to the far horizon:

"I expect Ocean to be in the Channel today. I expect the Ark Royal to be moving towards the Channel later.”

You 'expect' do you Gordon?. Oh, those spin doctors: the devious bastards never miss a trick, do they? When talking about marine matters, chuck in the word 'expect'; use it repeatedly: it evokes memories of our glorious maritime history, and that other one-eyed hero, Nelson.  'Gordon expects that every man will do his duty'. Huzzah!

Never mind that these dirty great boats consume fuel like Prescott swilling champagne, and that we're paying for the petrol, eh? The important thing is the gesture. Once again, the great Gordo' saves us. He'll start claiming shortly that the Tories 'would have done nothing'.

But hang on, what's this? A dissenting voice? Tim Fish, maritime analyst at Jane’s Information Group, questioned the great Gordo's wisdom, saying:

“They are very large platforms .. it does sound odd to use them as ferries. They are not comfortable by any means. They are not ferries, so they will take longer to load and unload in port"

Well, perhaps he's just being pessimistic. Who cares about discomfort and delay when this is the only way to ... wait, what's this? Chris Jones, spokesman for Brittany Ferries, chimes in:

“We have plenty of spaces on routes between France and the UK"

Oh. Ah. No need to send an enormous warship then? Apparently not.

So, there it is: an empty, grandstanding, look-at-me gesture from Gordon, that will cost us an enormous amount of money, and is not actually, when you look at the details, even fucking necessary.

Yet again.

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This comment, over on Mike Smithson's excellent 'Political Betting':

For the hard-of-seeing, the post says:

"I just wonder how many of these switchers really understand what the Yellow Peril are about.

Come on, British public - wake up - this is a party run by a 70 yr old Marxist, a poisoned dwarf, a shrill, witless oaf, a bespectacled fruitcake who is obsessed with asteroid detection, and an ex EU bureaucrat who would not be out of place as a sixth form prefect."

Now that's getting it said ..

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The long arm of the volcano reaches everyone. Apparently, many schools have had to close, because so many teachers are stuck abroad. We're told that:

"..schools reported that as many as a quarter of teachers were stranded abroad."

So difficult is the situation that:

"Some primaries and secondaries even told pupils to stay away for up to a week because of staff shortages."

But hang on, hang on a fucking minute.

Haven't we always been told that it's callous and rude and naughty and wrong to assume that teachers enjoy the same preposterously long holidays as their nit-ridden pupils?

Aren't we supposed to believe that, while Kylie and Wayne are enjoying themselves on holiday, the poor old teachers are slaving away in the empty schools, preparing the next round of green indoctrination?

If that were true, how come up to 1 in 4 teachers weren't even in the fucking country 3 or 4 days before term started then?  Particularly this term, the term that contains all the fucking GCSE's, and the A-levels and the other bloody qualifications they're supposed to be teaching?

Is this just a giant, global fucking duvet day?

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Can you remember when there was more than just one famous Lib Dem? Can you? CF can.

Remember when - way back, in the distant mists of early-last-week - the reason you'd vote Lib Dem was supposedly Vince Cable?

You know, Vincey, the only man alive who foresaw the banking crash, the recession, the invention of Jeggings and the return of Manchester City to the top flight?

He was the main man, he was the safe pair of hands, and Calamity Clegg was just some boy who was hanging around at the back of the press conference.

Even when the General Election campaign began, Vince was to the fore. As the New Statesman points out, it was..

"..as if the Lib Dems feared leaving their young leader alone, the Tiggerish Clegg was forever trailed by the Eeyore-like Cable"

Remember the decoration on the Lib Dem battle bus? Both men were pictured on the side (although only Vince was given a lovely pair of Chrome 'n' Rubber tits)

But then came resurrection day: 'Lib Dem II, The Vengeance'. Clegg emerged from that debate as a mighty hero, sent from Heav'n to Save Us All.

Suddenly, people were talking about voting not for policy (and why would you, with the Lib Dems) but 'for Nick'.

"I'm voting for Nick" said a thousand confused but starry eyed housewives, utterly fucking oblivious to the fact that you can only actually vote for Nick if you live in a certain part of Sheffield.

But no matter - 'Nick' is the face of the Lib Dems. Fuck it, Nick is the Lib Dems.

Which, in a party as ruthlessly opportunistic as the Lib Dems, is bad news for the elderly gentleman. Even he hadn't foreseen this.

Over the weekend, there was a Stalinesque purge: poor ol' Vince suddenly vanished from the Lib Dem homepage. All that's there is now is a giant picture of .. yes ... St. Nicolas of Clegg.

And then, the final slap for the old boy with the Werthers' Orginals: he was due to appear with the young upstart today at Cardiff University, but mysteriously, he pulled out - or was pushed out - at the last minute.

Oh dear, poor old Vince.

Times have changed, eh?

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The weekend media has been completely, utterly dominated by the worship of the boy Clegg.

Personally, CF thought the debates went exactly like this, but if the papers are to be believed, Clegg arose in shining glory, offering us all a path to the promised land. Hallelujah!

So, Cleggy for Prime Minister, eh? Get real.

Here's what's going to happen, if the endless polls being forced down our throats really are a true reflection:

In spite of some polls showing the Lib Dems marginally ahead of the Tories, and both well ahead of Labour, this will translate - because of the way the fucked-up 'system' works - on election day into a hung parliament, with Labour - yes, fucking Labour - holding the advantage. A Lib-Lab pact will be cobbled together before the weekend is done.

The Tories will be shut out, Cameron will resign and vanish, and the party will promptly turn in on itself for five years of self-destruction, being an even fucking less effective opposition than they have been, if you can imagine such a thing.

Desperate for a tiny bit of power, Clegg will accept a series of vague, half-hearted promises from Brown about the future, and Broon will form a government. 

Gordo' will of course - of fucking course - remain as Prime Minister. The Lord High Mandelson, who is guaranteed to be around - he's got no election to worry about, has he? - will continue to exercise his power from the shadows.

And then, their advantage secured, Broon and Labour will proceed to comprehensively fuck Clegg and the Lib Dems over. Think they can't do it? Yeah, right. They've spent the last 13 years attacking each other, these self-serving corrupt bastards, so fucking over another party will be a piece of piss.

Clegg will be made Home Secretary.  Well hoo-fucking-rah. Look at the last two to hold that poison chalice. Jacqui Smith achieved the square root of fuck all there, and Alan Johnson was deliberately put there to keep him out of the way, to quench his leadership ambitions.

So the fresh-faced boy, with all his hopes and aspirations, will disappear into the mire of the Home Office, and never be heard from again.

And Vince Cable ? Well, yeah Vince, we know we said you might be Chancellor, but you know, Ed Balls is doing such a great job there that we're just going to .. keep it under review. What's that? You'd like to help him? Well no, he's got lots of advisors, thanks, grandad. Off you go.

And what about all the other promises? Well, there'll be long, long, looooong look at PR voting, lasting about four years, which - if it looks like it'll help Labour in the 2015 election - will be adopted, and if it doesn't will be quietly dropped.

All of the Lib Dem's tax-raising ideas: airline tax, bank tax, the fucking stupid Mansion Tax, will be brought in immediately, and the basic rate will be increased: "well it was the Lib Dems idea, mate, ask them about it".  

Everything else will be forgotten. Lib Dem MP's will be sidelined, ignored - except when being bullied by whips in crucial votes.

Any other Lib Dem MP that tries to push back, to ask why promises have been broken, will be immediately and comprehensively ruined. Smeared, humiliated and forced out of office. Just weeks after the election, there'll be no Lib Dem in any position of real power or influence.

And, after a few months, we'll see that we've been through a General Election, and all that's resulted is that we've got Brown, Balls and Mandy for five more years. Only this time, Broon will tell us, he's got a mandate.

The markets will crash, sterling will plunge, the public sector will start growing uncontrollably again, immigration will soar, and ID cards will be introduced.

There'll be no way of stopping any of it: Gordon Brown will be the democratically elected Prime Minister.

So, folks, if you turn out in your thousands to vote for 'X-Factor' Clegg, be aware of what you're actually going to get.

Five more years of Gordon Brown. 

Is that what you want?

(thanks to Subrosa for the headline)

Too nice a day for lengthy blog activity - either writing or reading.

However, this video, whipped from playpolitical.com,  is the perfect summary of the Leaders' debate:





Yup, that was it. Eck-fucking-zactly.

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Yes, the Constantly Furious blog has been going for exactly one year. We've laughed together, we've cried together and we've foamed with outrage, together.

501 posts (502 now) later, we're still going strong. Sadly, we're also still suffering under Gordon Brown and the most corrupt, inept government the Western world has ever seen. So, plenty to stay angry about.

Thanks to all visitors, clickers, referrers, commenters and blogrollers.

Spread the Fury!

The Scottish Parliament website is clearly designed to be as accessible as possible, to as many people as possible: its pages have been translated into many languages, so that even those whose only language is Russian can find out about the intriguing goings-on North of the Border. Bet they're all reading this over their blinis down in Yekaterinburg, eh?

And, besides the Russian version, there's also this version, which makes its readers welcome. Or rather "walcome" :

"Walcome tae the Scottish Pairlament wabsite"

What the fuck is this? What it appears to be, is a web page written in 'Scots'. Eh? No, it's not a pisstake - it's real.

"The Scottish Pairlament is here for tae represent aw Scotlan’s folk.

We want tae mak siccar that as mony folk as possible can finn oot aboot the Scottish Pairlament. 

This pairt o the wabsite hauds information anent the Scottish Pairlament that we hae producit in Scots"

So come on, readers from Scottishland, let us know. Is this useful to you? Is it easier to read than the 'normal' English version? Is this how you write to each other? Are Scottish newspapers written in 'Scots'?

Or is this just some demented fuckwittery, dreamt up by people with not enough to do and too much of our money to spend?

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So, the great, grand, historic Presidential Debate. The first chance for the three party leaders to outline their policies, share their vision. Who won? Who lost?

Nick Clegg clearly won the debate yesterday, because he managed to repeatedly call the Labour and Conservative leaders "you two", making it clear that the Lib Dems were offering a fresh, new approach to politics. Nice one, Nick!

Gordon Brown easily won the debate yesterday evening, because he managed to say "I agree with Nick" over and over again - even when he didn't really - which proved that Labour and the Lib Dems could build a powerful and effective alliance. Well done, Gordon!

David Cameron definitely won last night's debate, because, as he reminded us, Labour have been in power for thirteen years now. Spot on, Dave!

Nick Clegg lost yesterday's debate because he admitted, in front of millions, that there was "good immigration and bad immigation". Ooops, Nick.

David Cameron lost last night's debate, because he let slip that he gets all his advice on immigration from somene he described as 'A Black Man'. Dear oh dear, Dave.

Gordon Brown lost the debate yesterday, because he smiled oddly, and he couldn't resist making his traditional joke about posters. Bad luck, Gordo'!

Overall? Clegg easily beat the clear winner Cameron but was edged into third place by a resurgent Gordon Brown.

And CF? CF lost.

Two fucking hours of his life.

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Remember when Eddie Izzard was funny? Really, really funny? Remember all that stuff about Sean Connery and Noah's ark, dogs in cars, and Steve the Bird travelling on an aeroplane? And Mrs Badcrumble? And the Emperor Mr Dog?

Ah, you had to be there.

And CF often was: saw him live at least 7 or 8 times, crying with laughter at the endless stream of conciousness. It was probably the fact that everything he was saying was so utterly surreal, such complete fantasist nonsense, that made him so amusing.

So, what happened, Eddie?

Why are we being treated to another stream of utter bollocks, that isn't remotely fucking funny?

Yes, the 'bloke in a dress' has taken the Broon shilling, and recorded a party election broadcast for the Labour party. For fuck's sake.

And, as is fucking tediously usual with the Labour gang, he doesn't waste much time talking about his paymasters' acheivements in the last 13 years, and he doesn't bother to outline what the woeful and corrupt Labour party might do if they got back into power.  Oh no, sod that.

Nah, Eddie takes the easy, predictable route, and slags off the Tories instead.

"The Tories are going to hit us with lots of posters and adverts in this election. They can do this because they have got shedloads of money to spend on making themsleves look good,"

Oh, is that why we should vote Labour, Ed?

Does he say anything fresh, amusing or witty?

""These people are still Thatcher's children... be afraid, be very afraid... [they are the] Tories of old with new suits on.""

Nope. He doesn't.

Eddie, what the fuck is going on? Fuck off and keep your tedious, tired, sub-Ben Elton views to yourself. Fuck off.

If we need a plump, failed comedian telling us how to vote, we'll give you a call, luvvie.

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The nation waits with bated breath for tonights televisual debates. Well, most of the nation. Not Crazy Elmont though - he already knows what's going to happen:

• Throughout the day the 24 hour news channels will be trotting out media professors, hacks-for-hire, and lower-level MPs to tell us how important and ground-breaking the debates will be.

• Once they’ve started the actual debate Twitter will be awash with RTs from Ellie Gellard, Kerry McCarthy, Alistair Campbell, Eric Pickles, Iain Dale, Shane Greer and John Prescott. Each of these people will be treating their 140 character soundbite regurgitation as the last word in political wisdom.

• Once it’s finished any minor slip ups or reasonably funny quips will be repeated 4 times an hour for the next 3 days on TV, as if the person who said them has admitted raping their sister as a child.

• Tomorrows papers will see the Guardian and the Mirror come out saying Brown won. Almost everyone else will have Cameron winning. Clegg might get The Indy if he’s lucky. The only thing to watch out for is if The Guardian wheels out John Harris, Polly Toynbee, Michael White and Jackie Ashley all in one day. There is the potential for a terminal smugness overload.

• At the end of this circus we will know exactly the same about the actual policies as we did before, very little.

Anyone want to bet against any of those predictions?

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