Saturday, January 25, 2003

Paula Abood writes: 'Remember when you read vague stuff about the US government 'editing' bits from Iraq's declaration? If you read the quality press you'll have wondered just who these corporations were who'd supplied Saddam but whose names were removed. Here they are, courtesy of Berlin daily newspaper Die Tageszeitung, No. 6934, 19 Dec 2002, page 3, "Exclusive: The Secret List of Arms Suppliers - Saddam's Business partners".

Scroll down this page ( "Always willing, we're off to war again" By Margo Kingston January 22 2003.) for the list of accessories to terrorism before, during and after the fact. (WARNING! There are NO surprises.)

From the same page. First garage door against the war, by Andrew Mamo and Helen Ferry

More from Margot Kingston. "George Bush, Australia's war leader."

"Howard's promised parliamentary debate on whether to go to war is a sham. He has handed the power to the Americans to decide. It's that simple. And he's failed to tell us the rules of engagement, or the plan for regime change.

Australians need to watch the US President's state of the union address on Wednesday for clues on what we might be in for. George Bush will decide whether Australian troops invade Iraq and the circumstances in which they do so. John Howard - and Australian public opinion - are irrelevant to their fate."

Ditto for Britain it would seem, so insert Blair where appropriate. Cue John Prescott.

The more I hear, the more I read, the more I see the whole sorry Vietnam experience all over again. What was that Brian? "We learn from history that we learn nothing from history." How pathetically cynical of you!

Dep. Ed:- Story forwarded to us from "The World According to Pete".

Thanks to the miracle of modern technology and plenty of promotion we've finally received our first 'Hate Comment' (see the comments board at bottom of this page). Well done everyone! It's taken a lot of hard work but we've finally made it to celebrity status. I'd like to take this opportunity to thank all my fellow ranters for their efforts and reflect upon the fact that I told you we'd get there in the end.

In response to the 'Find Happiness' instruction that our uncynical cousin left us, I have this to say. Happiness (other than being a humorous play on the words 'a penis' in Peter Sellers' films) is actually a myth. Happiness cannot be found in God, sex or football. (Although in the case of sex it's worth persevering on the off chance.) Momentary distractions from reality can be uncovered in all sorts of self-delusions. A thirteen bedroom mansion for example. A fifty volume collection of 'Big Jugs Monthly'. The unexpected death of John Prescott in a road accident involving a tanker full of Lyon's Golden Syrup and an inflatable dolphin. But life continues regardless. Politicians keep on lying. Religious zealots keep on bullshitting. American producers continue to make wank programmes. Gallbladders continue to gall. Decent people die. Evil babies are born. And ITV celebrities continue their sexual perversions in full view of the Special Branch with headline making results.

What makes me happy? Being a grumpy old shit, that's what. To me the ignorant killing of innocent people in Iraq matters more than blissful ignorance. The hypocrisy of governments, the commercialisation of everything that walks, breathes and dies, the blandness of our cultural state, the crushing of the poor, the mistreatment of underdogs and the exposure of the thoughtlessly greedy...all these things matter. Turning a blind eye to all of these things, in my opinion, is not an option. The day they get sorted then I might be happier. Not completely happy...but a few steps closer. Until that time the nearest I can get is expressing my opinion on such subjects.

What makes Roger happy? Obviously not this board, that's for certain. So, a word of advice then, Roger. Fuck off and look for your elusive happiness somewhere else. I'm sure there are plenty of sites out there full of kittens and Mr Men and Baby Jesus quotations to keep you smiling whilst the rest of the world goes up in smoke.

'Nuff said. Rant over.

New travel alert cautions Aussies about UK.

Posted: Sat, 25 Jan 2003 16:54 AEDT

"The Department of Foreign Affairs has upgraded its travel warnings for the United Kingdom.

Australians travelling to the UK are being warned to be especially alert to their own security because of the risk of terrorism.

A warning says key UK installations such as economic interests, ports of entry and airports remain on heightened alert.

The advice also states the British Government is very strict on entry requirements and Australians are likely to be refused entry if they fail to produce proper documentation.

The department is urging Australians to stay abreast of UK announcements on public safety.

Unfortunately this warning was too late for a group of holidaying children from the Widgiemooltha primary school who were last seen being enticed into the back of a "Prescott's Pies" truck.

SIG UP appears to be down ?

Friday, January 24, 2003

Howard: all the way with Bush

"Prime Minister John Howard has invoked Australia's alliance with the US as a primary reason for sending troops to the Iraq theatre.

"I have to take into account the importance of our alliance with the United States," the Prime Minister told Melbourne radio yesterday.

However, Mr Howard denied Australia was "automatically doing everything America wants".

As international support for a US-led coalition weakens significantly, President George W. Bush has praised Australia's military deployment, with the White House indicating it expected Australia to fight in the event of a war with Saddam Hussein."

John Howard's relationship with George makes the "All the way with LBJ" Vietnam War commitment by Harold ("I'm just off for a paddle down the beach") Holt look like an innocent fumbling with bra straps in the back row of the Odeon. It is with considerable irony that Howard's declaration of undying and, it would seem, unconditional love for Dubbya coincides with the Australia Day long weekend.

Odds are shortening on Dubbya being named "Australian of the Year".

Makes me proud to be an American ... Austerican Ozzie. Praise the Lord and pass me another Macca's.

How dare anybody use the word "Australia" and the phrase "laughing stock" in the same sentence!

Recommended Australia Day reading. Especially for Howard and his toadies.
I have an awful feeling that our nomination for this must have slipped through the cracks. There can be no other explanation for our absence. However divvying up $25 into equal byte size pieces without causing dissension might prove be a difficult task. What is the current exchange value of the Hungarian Forint anyway?

The dropping of "The Most Hits on a Blog for the Search Words Ulrike Johnson" category was a cruel blow to ROTW. How can they have a category "Best Canadian Weblog" ? What next? "Funniest German Weblog" ... "Most Exciting Belgian Weblog" ...

After Mr Cooper's posting last week about British gun laws, in the interests of political balance I would like to add my own tuppence worth to the argument. I might have posted on this subject before. I might not. Whatever the case, guns, in my opinion, should be banned from every walk, hobble and trudge of British life, including those weapons in the sweaty grips of the bastards who hang around on rooftops whenever the Queen, Tony Blair or John-There's-A-Lot-Of-Me-For-A-Terrorist-To-Aim-At Prescott decide to visit and who cost the poll-tax payers billions.

Most of all, however, guns should be banned from the cow pat encrusted hands of remedial farmers. (Editor's note: Surely that's an ill-informed stereotype? Farmers aren't all inbred members of the landed gentry!) (What the fuck would you know? We're not discussing the 'I want to be like Tom and Barbara Good' type of Yuppie farmers here, with their organically grown horse manure and their free-range gherkins. Now keep your beak out of my Blog, dickwad!)

When I was a strapping lad of about fifteen or so (approximately five years ago as the temporally challenged crow flies) we had our milk delivered to my parents' little shop by the local farmer. Young 'Enry he was called. (I can name him openly without fear of recrimination here as the inbred bastard was barely able to speak let alone read, write or operate a computer.) He was a one hundred per cent thoroughbred yokel, with string tied round his trousers to prevent rats attacking his wedding tackle, flat cap on his bulbous head, fingers like sausage rolls and a pock-marked purple face that bore a striking resemblance to a gibbon's arse. Especially when he spoke and huge turds plummetted from his mouth.

To say that Young 'Enry was several genes short of a full pool would be an understatement. If only IQ sizes were matched by peoples' sperm counts then the 'Enry' family would have died out centuries before. Unfortunately the farm had been passed down through the family ownership (and, by the looks of the buildings, through several colons) for thousands of years, as indeed had the same set of genes. One of the reasons Young 'Enry found it difficult to count was because he had considerably more fingers and toes than normal people.

Anyhow, one day Young 'Enry arrived on my mother's doorstep with a very long face. (This was normal, his entire head having been genetically modified over the generations to the point where the residents of Easter Island would have stood in awe.) "What's the matter 'Enry?" asked my mother.

"We 'ad to shoot me favourite dog last night," 'Enry replied, rolling his threadbare cap in his hands and then throttling it angrily. "'Ee'd bin barkin' and keepin' me awake. So I 'ad to shoot 'im. Fifteen years I've 'ad that dog and the bastard goes and spoils me night's sleep like that."

Which, even at such a young and impressionable age, brought up the question in my mind of gun ownership and why people such as 'Enry had the right to bear arms. Especially double barrelled shotguns. Even back then in the mists of time, several decades B.D. (Before Dunblane) it was illegal for any normal British citizen to own a gun. Unless you happened to be a farmer with an I.Q. of six and a penchant for killing little fluffy things at random.

To be honest, there really is no excuse. "Well, Oi needs a bloody big shotgun so's I can control the vermin on moi land." (Presumably this includes hikers who, despite having rights of way across most British fields, frequently find the styles concealed by strategically grown hedgerows and landmines.) Control the vermin? A double-barrelled shotgun? What sort of fucking vermin do these farmers have? Savage rabbits that can take out a human jugular with one swift bite? Palestinian Suicide Moles that burrow their way into farmyards and then explode? Al Quaeda fieldmice that drive combine harvesters into twin silos in the name of Allah? Seriously, for fuck's sake! I could hardly call feral sheep a danger to life and limb, even when the inbred bastards are busy taking them from behind on a moonswept night. So what gives farmers the right to keep guns when the rest of us aren't allowed to even look at them on the telly?

Perhaps the answer lies in the good old aristocracy. That final bastion from legal requirement to which the ancient, albeit diminished, farming stock are still related. The Duke of Edinburgh seems to have no problem carrying a shotgun, as indeed his fellow upper-crust brethren don't. One law for the rich, another for the poor. "We need them to ward off ramblers who trespass on our estates and shoot bunnies and foxes and things."

My recommendation: Give them one last chance to blow their own heads off and then tighten gun controls to involve everyone, with the exception of the military and special branch of course. And anyone caught in possession of a gun should have one testicle removed. Let's see if they ever get caught carrying another one after that.

"We are not going to cry wolf in this case, but neither are we going to put our heads in the sand and ignore the dangers," said Mr. Szita. "Even if it is only a one-per-cent possibility, we must do all possible to reduce the threat."

Some words about a "Hungarian Interpreter School" for Iraqi people.

There I was offline for a couple of days in a bushfire smoke shrouded Ararat (where I went to school and where lives my mother in law) frothing at the mouth desperate to post. Well I'm back and let me tell you I'm not happy with what has been going on.

Turn your back for one minute and there's Prime Minister Maggot, the leader formerly and still known as Prime Minister Maggot, farewelling fresh faced young lads, some as old as twelve, off to the Gulf on a mission to over-compensate for his miniscule appendage.

Flags are rampant. Politicians' normally flaccid bits are now fully erect. Military bands are discordant and strident. Dissenters are disparaged, ignored or await execution for treason.

The media is orgasmic, frothing at the mouth and (surprise, surprise) not a whit critical or analytical. Tearful wives, cute curly haired kiddies and trembling lipped parents security blanketted by endless refrains of the vomitous nazionalistic dirges "Advance Australia White Fair", "I am, you are, we are Australians" and "I still call Orstraya home".

"Loved ones" is the meeja's "Phrase for the Day". (I shan't bother to point out to Rupert's scribblers the irony of that phrase in the current context. Far be it from me to cast Waugh pearls before swine.)

"Tears flowed between anxious families and friends clinging to loved ones and sharing precious final moments together before Operation Bastille was deployed." ("Operation BASTILLE'?! Give us a break!)

"Teary farewells as loved ones called up."

"Parents, partners and children shared final emotional moments with loved ones as they farewelled the 350 Australians on board HMAS Kanimbla."

"Like many of the hundreds of relatives saying goodbyes to ... " Yes, you guessed it.

"At 10 a.m. the Kanimbla with 350 personnel on board pulled away from the wharf, from the waving flags, and the tears and blown kisses of ... " Yes, you guessed right again.

Prime Minister Maggot provided the loved ones (have I mentioned them?) with the reassuring news that Australia may declare war on Saddam Hussein without U.N. approval.

However the loved ones were no boubt buoyed by this announcement by his Maggotness. "There are no grounds from what I've seen so far for any special levy to pay for Australia's military involvement in the Gulf. It will cost some extra money but it's a little early at this stage for me to put a figure on that. It depends on how long it lasts."

The Maggot has a distinguished history of "the devil's in the detail and the qualification", so I'd suggest that once they have been released from their photo opportunity obligations with the meeja, the loved ones might consider putting a few pennies aside in the biscuit tin each pay day for when the levy is imposed.

Now if those evil Iraqi soldiers had loved ones we might think twice about inflicting pain and suffering on innocent Iraqi bystanders. But we know they don't. Well they're barely human aren't they? They deserve to be Bluebottley "deaded". Those low life bastards are just asking for it.

Question. Of the 191 members of the United Nations, which nations have decided to "forward deploy" military personnel to the Persian Gulf?

Answer. America, Britain, Australia and the Duchy of Grand Fenwick.

Question. What is the problem with this question and answer?

Answer. Having to applaud, amongst others, the Frogs and the Krauts. Never thought I'd see the day!

P.S. Could be that I disappear in a terminal pool of sweat over the weekend.
Today's top was 40 celsius (104 F)
Currently (10.15 p.m.) 34 celsius (94 F)
Me? ... totally knackered.
Saturday to be 42 celsius (107 F)
Sunday cools down to 38 celsius. (100 F.)

Summer time... and the living is easy...

Just testing the SIG UP hot-linking thing out...

Don't mind me...I wasn't here.

Thursday, January 23, 2003

The customers came in two by two, Hurrah, Hurrah!
The obese and the flatulent too, Hurrah, Hurrah!
They stuffed the burgers into their teeth,
Nearly all cardboard and 1% beef,
Then they all threw the gherkins into the street outside.

The fries they came up again two by two, Hurrah, Hurrah!
The number you get in a portion it's true, Hurrah, Hurrah!
Straight through the gullet and into the pan,
Thus cutting out the middle man,
Yet they all grew obese and morbidly fat and seventy-five feet wide.

Thora Hird says:

"Those adjustable beds are reet grand! You can lower the foot and all your incontinence dribbles out into a specially placed tray! Fuckin' smashin!"

Jacques Chirac (President of France and former scuba-diving champion) and Herman Schrodinger (Prime Minister, or whatever the equivalent is, of Germany as well as an expert in placing cats inside boxes before shooting them with hypothetical guns) have joined forces against the war with Iraq, causing a rift through the middle of the UN Security Council almost as wide as Joan Rivers' cleavage. This, of course, leaves Tony bin Blair (Prime Minister of Great Britain and former porn star) in a bit of a quandary as Britain is supposed to be allied closer to Europe culturally, politically, geographically and ethically than we are to the U.S. of A. (Unidentified Shitholes of America) whilst his tongue is still firmly wedged up Bush's sphincter. Alistair Campbell, receiving inordinate amounts of tax payers' money to get Uncle Tony out of any political quagmire he might stumble selfishly into, has denounced France as being 'less ethical and more anti-American' in its political stance on this matter. He went on to add that, "Those Froggies wouldn't know what was right or wrong if it bit them on the nose. We saved their bony butts during the Second World War and since then we've had nothing but dock-workers' strikes, British beef bans and the strong smell of garlic wafting across the English Channel. And as for those Krauts! Who won that bleeding war, that's what I want to know?! They should agree with everything that Britain tells them to do, the ungrateful bastards. Here's Tony doing his best to get his hands on the oil wells sort out the world and...etc."

Other news and a government opposition leak today claims that the War with Iraq is just an invention to take our minds of all the problems created by New Labour in our own country. More than this, the document stated that the entire world beyond these shores was invented for the same purpose. Officials in Whitehall (the existence of which is now also under debate) have been trying to verify these claims, whilst themselves coming under scrutiny for being inventions in their own right. "It's my belief," commented Mr Haughton at the grocers. "That the 'ole bloomin' lot is one big lie. There's nothing beyond Fleetwood except for millions of bureaucrats all keepin' us in the dark and workin' us like slaves." We have it on good authority, such as the fact that I saw him polishing his onions this morning, that Mr Haughton is one of the few people in the world to be genuine. "Of course, there's one good thing to come out of all this," he continued, restacking his apples so that the mangiest ones were at the top. "If the world's all just a fabrication of the government's mind and there's no Iraq and no France or owt like that, then ergo there's no bleedin' America neither. And that's got to be a good thing!" With which compelling thought he vanished into his outhouse to store his potatoes down the bog.

The editorial staff at the Rant of the Week have tried to contact the Whitehouse to either deny or confirm these rumours but as yet we've had no reply. If the none-existence of weapons of mass destruction in Iraq is proof that Saddam is trying to hide them, then the lack of response from the Whitehouse is proof enough that George Bush and his militia are all ignorant shits. In the meantime David Ike continues to insist that George Bush, Ronald Regan, the Queen and various others are baby-eating lizards from another planet disguised as humans. Parliament has dismissed this claim as 'Flippant nonsense' whilst David Ike, who doesn't exist himself and is just a fabrication by the government to stir up controvesy over the royals, who also don't exist, thus taking our mind off the war with Iraq, which doesn't exist...where the fuck was I?

This on the Search Engine Queries log - "see women & men have secks"

What an illiterate cnut!


Tone takes charge of the education problem!
The Venerable Sage of Unyan
Dispenser of wisdoms and sayer of sooths to the multitudes

Upon hearing that Lord God Anthony declares that the worst twenty three schools in the realm will face closure the Venerable Unyan doth say - should Lord God Anthony make it policy to close this number of schools year upon year then he will solve the education crisis by (consults abacus) erm, the end of this century sometime. Blessed be His holy wisdom for it is without end.

You are too little to be politician?

No problem!
Via Metafilter.

"As we all know, the military pool system created then was meant to be, and was, a major impediment for photojournalists in their quest to communicate the realities of war.

I refused to participate in the pool system. I was in the Gulf for many weeks as the build-up of troops took place, and then sat out the "air war", and flew from Paris to Riyadh as soon as the ground war began. I arrived at the "mile of death" the morning the day the war stopped. It was very early in the morning and few other journalists were present. When I arrived at the scene of this incredible carnage, strewn all over on this mile stretch were cars and trucks with wheels still turning, radios still playing, and there were bodies scattered along the road. Many people have asked the question "how many people died" during the war with Iraq and the question has never been well answered. That first morning, I saw and photographed a U.S. Military 'graves detail' bury in large graves many bodies.

As we approach the distinct possibility of another war, a thought comes to mind. The photographs that I made do not, in themselves, represent any personal political judgment or point of view with respect to the politics and the right or wrong of the first Gulf War. What they do represent is a part of a more accurate picture of what really does happen in war. I feel it is important and that citizens have the right to see these images. This is not to communicate my point of view, but so viewers as citizens can be offered a better opportunity to consider the whole picture and consequences of that war and any war. I feel that it is part of my role as a photojournalist to offer the viewer the opportunity to draw from as much information as possible, and develop his or her own judgment."

Peter Turnley
December 2002

Yes George, Tony and John, war is "a thing of beauty and a joy forever". (As long as you're not at the pointy end of it.)

Wednesday, January 22, 2003


Hello ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. My name's Robillina Christian. And this my favourite little friend in the whole wide world ever, the Amazing Baby Jesus. Say hello to the boys and girls, Baby Jesus.

Suck my dick, bitch!

Now Baby Jesus! That's not a very pleasant thing to say. What will the nice boys and girls think?

Who gives a fuck, lady? Just give us a suck on your big saggy tits.

Well now, boys and girls, Baby Jesus and I have been invited along to this Blogger board today to tell you all about God and Heaven and fluffy kittens in big pink ribbons and bows and stuff. Haven't we Baby Jesus?

Piss off cunt.

And all about what happens to bad boys and girls who don't brush their teeth or who play with themselves beneath the bed sheets.

Fucking paedophile.

Now Baby Jesus, just you stop that! You're supposed to be setting a good example. I'm going to have to spank you in a minute.

Promises, promises you fat bastard. Go on, give us a flash of your fat hairy minge you horrible dobber.

Right! That's quite enough out of you young man. We'd better leave this for now until you're being better behaved. Sorry about this boys and girls. But we will return at some future date.

Fuck that! I'm going to shag some angels.

And when we do return we'll be able to tell you all about how the Jews and the Arabs are going to burn in the fires of Hell for eternity. And how only sensible Christians will experience the rapture and go to Heaven where's there's plenty of ice cream and omelettes and McDonalds. Won't that be fun?

Fun my shitter. It's fucking boring!

That's it! Back on your cross with you, young man! Goodnight ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. And please don't forget to call again for another visit. Say goodbye Baby Jesus, while I sort these nails out.

Eat cunt, you mother fucker!


Editor's Apology: The staff here at the Rant of the Week would like to apologise for the extreme nature of the cabaret act featured above. Whilst variety is, of course, the spice of life, Robillina Christian and the Amazing Baby Jesus have pushed the boundaries of taste straight through the digestive system and into the lavatory bowl. We were assured by their agents that they were an 'interesting novelty act that wouldn't offend the most puritanical nun'. Instead they used terms such as 'McD*nalds' and 'fl*ffy kittens' in plain view of children. Next week, as a less offensive replacement, we shall be bringing you Bernard Manning and his dancing Muslims.

In an attempt to sort out the increasingly dreadful British Educational system, the government has now proposed the introduction of more 'Work Placement Schemes' for under-achieving children. Kids at the age of fourteen (presumably with their faces masked so that paedophiles can't abuse them in the work place seeing as there don't appear to any background checks on these people) who are not academically minded will be given the opportunity to spend two days a week in a proper work environment as manual-labouring slaves. Class sizes will plummet. The buses at 4 o'clock in the evening won't have as many noisy, loud-mouthed little gits on them. And the trees in the parks will become rainbow coloured and bear tiny flying pigs.

"I can't see anything wrong with the proposals," said David Blunkett, who obviously couldn't. "Let's face it. The factories must have their fodder and it's better than these little 'street urchins' (copyright 2003) having nothing to keep them occupied."

As someone who experienced the risible Youth Opportunities Programme back in the early eighties under Maggie bin Thatch's regime, I know only too well what 'Work Experience' means. It means gratuitous reductions in the numbers for government problem areas as the 'Opportunistic Youths' automatically vanish into the statistical ether. It means an incredibly cheap labour force for ethically unsound businesses. (Editor's note: Surely such things don't exist in dear old Britain?) It means a rise in the unemployment of menial workers as kids below the legal working age step in to take their place. And, if my three day experience of stacking shelves for no reward was anything to go off, it puts the 'lucky kid' off work for the rest of his life.

What is it about New Labour that makes them intent on removing education from the working classes? First they take away student grants, preventing everyone under a certain income from getting into university. Then they introduce a 'loan' scheme meaning that people from a working class background will end up paying more than those from the more well-off. (An average of £21,000 per student apparently.) Then they allow the universities to triple their fees if they so desire. And now they're actively encouraging the 'under-achievers' (i.e. those from council estates and working class neighbourhoods) to leave school at the age of fourteen and prepare themselves for adult life. Surely they should be giving them sleeping bags, a flask of coffee and a dole card if they want to do that?

My recommendation: If the kids aren't getting the education they deserve/need then get the little bastards to study at weekends as well before we end up in a society where only the aristocracy know how to read and write and the prols are left to sweep their companions out of the gutters. Video cameras everywhere, two distinct sections of society, mass hysteria manipulated by the media, the country always being at war, spin doctors wherever you turn and the anti-terrorism bill where people can be arrested without charge and have no recourse to the law. Sound familiar? Well it might, but only if you come from a rich enough background to have actually heard of Orwell.


Repent while you've still got time!

My latest cartoon was inspired by the way my nephew and his friends are wearing their pants these days...

Peter speaks on the war with Iraq. Oil is a good thing!

Now, many of you will know that I am slightly more right-wing and slightly more militaristic than many on the blog (that is to say, "pro-action" rather than taking a more pacifistic stance). However, I am now going to argue FOR war on Iraq, not just for economic reasons (yes, the oil! whee!) but also for strategic and political reasons. Always the one for causing controversy while also trying to talk SOME sense :)

Too true. There is no connection with Iraq and Al Qaeda. Why is this? Because the Deputy Prime Minister is a Christian, and the fundamentalist Islam Al Qaeda won't deal with such "low life scum" who put infidels into such high positions. UP YOURS OSAMA! AND YOUR MUM! But wait, mustn't bitch about his momma, she's in the Royal Family of Saudi Arabia if I recall ;)

So why go out to Iraq and fight a war against people you don't need to, you ask? Well, for a start there is this oil issue. Before you go all skitz and say "we should not go to war for oil!!!!!" I just want to show you why we should, on the contrary, kick the crap out of Iraq for oil.

Okay, so Iraq cuts off the oil supply. What would this mean for us? Well, first the petrol prices would go up. Then, people would start hoarding, and the government would have to step in to control the flow of petrol into the country, making the oil industry in effect nationalised. After this, as oil supply drops more and more, industry would begin to slow down and eventually, heavy industry would collapse. The result? collapse of the economy, your cars not working, planes not flying. Army, Navy and Air Force requisition all fuel, and Britain is effectively starved.

Worst Case Scenario? Yes. But even if we changed our priority to North Sea drilling, as well as the oil at the poles, little could be done and the eventual result would be the draining of those resources MUCH FASTER.

I don't want to go on about the oil. It's a topic that ticks me off. "Don't fight for oil" is not we should be saying. Surely such a vital resource to our economy (and therefore the welfare of the nation's jobs and ultimately you yourselves) as well as consumer and service sectors is worth fighting for? Meh, either way.

Now, strategic problems. Iraq does prove a threat. Not as great a threat as China or North Korea, perhaps, but a sizeable threat. We imposed a no fly zone to curb their military aggression against Kuwait, and they STILL fly into it and attack our units there. Now, you may say that we have unfairly placed a military sanction or military "court order" on them. But Kuwait asked for our help, they have it, and Iraq refuse to accept that. Nasty foreign policy? I think so. Further, the region itself is very unstable, and nasty foreign policy does not support such a move towards stability. Admittedly some of the American puppet governments aren't great, but they add a wee bit more stability to the Middle-East. Israel don't help that situation...

Further, in eliminating foreign threats from the middle east, we can finally relieve an awful lot of machinery and man-power out there, so we can bring them back to man Green Goddesses! Hurray!!

Fingers hurt, and pot noodles beckon. I'm sure I could do something more comprehensive, but I EM HUNGREH! RAWR!!!

Thanks for listening!

Pete C.

Editor's note: Peter, with regard to the Iraqi oil supply, surely there are currently sanctions in place against Iraq that prohibit the export of its oil, aren't there? (I could be wrong here. Feel free to chastise me in whatever manner you feel fit if I am. Horsewhips and a schoolmaster's cane for preference.) Most of the world's oil comes from Saudi Arabia, Kuwait etc (with a special discount for American liberators). Even if Iraq is still supplying the west it would be impossible for it to remove its own oil exports unless it found a lucrative market in sand wholesale, as oil is the main financial resource for the country. It strikes me that America actually wants to gain some sort of monopoly and/or discount on oil supplies with the aquisition of the Iraqi wells and, to be honest, America is already too big for its boots. Still, as they say, oil is thicker than blood as the 50,000 projected deaths that will result from this debacle will soon bear testimony. And now it's back to normal viewing. Please leave your comments in support of or against Mr Cooper's argument in the comments box below. You know you want to...

When asked by the back-bench MP’s who made up yesterday’s Commons Liaison Committee if there was any evidence that linked Saddam Hussein to Al Qaeda, Phoney Tony replied, “Not to my knowledge.” When asked about Britain’s “special” relationship with the US our revered leader was of the opinion that we should stand alongside our American cousins because it was unfair to allow them to stand alone during the current crisis. When it was suggested that the US is the only serious superpower left (I think the Chinese might have something to say about that!) and was, in effect, the biggest bully on the block intent on pursuing international policies to the benefit of itself, Blair defended his buddy Dubya by describing the US as a “force for good”.
Tone has admitted publicly that he knows of no link between Saddam and Al Qaeda yet Bush the Bewildered is citing this apparently none existent link as one of a long list of excuses to declare war on Iraq and is happy to allow US citizens to believe that Saddam is somehow partly responsible for the destruction of the twin towers. Shouldn’t Phoney be worried that Dubya is prepared to go to war on a lie? Doesn’t this jar with his claim that the US is “a force for good”? Doesn’t it worry Bleughh that the US and Britain are, to some extent, responsible for Saddam’s weapons programme? The British and US governments weren’t bothered about Saddam’s fitness to rule when they helped to arm him in his war against Iran, mostly because he was hell bent on upsetting the reactionary Ayatollah Khomeini and his Shi’ite regime, considered to be a major pain in the arse by both the US and Britain. Who can blame Saddam if he thought he could get away with invading another neighbour, Kuwait?
Dubya and Bleughh have made a lot of mileage out of the empty chemical shell casings that were found in some bunker. Because they did not appear on the 12,000 page inventory it is a sign that Saddam isn’t co-operating. I don’t doubt that the Iraqi dictator is guilty of obfuscation and that his chemical and biological weapons (which everyone knows he has) are stashed somewhere very safe, probably outside Iraq’s borders. However, the empty shell cases are a poor excuse to go and bomb the crap out of Iraqi civilians.
If Dubya and Bleughh were asked to make inventory of every single weapon in their national arsenals would they be able to include every last one whether armed with a warhead or not? Would they include the weapons that should be there but are not? Would they include the weapons grade fissile material that has gone “missing” from nuclear power stations? What about the raft of MOD shells about to be decommissioned by being blown up, lost after floating away down the Bristol Channel? A virtual mushroom cloud of hypocrisy hangs over these two bastards and the fallout will be measured in body bags.
Now Bleughh has refused to rule out the use of nukes in Iraq. Well, I suppose a well aimed cruise missile with a nuclear warhead is far cheaper than equipping our army with full basic kit (uniforms, boots, weapons, radios, vehciles etc).
The US, despite all its military might and fearsome rhetoric, failed to “get” Saddam eleven years ago just like they completely failed to "get" Osama bin Laden for over a year.. Now they want to go for a re-match. Apart from a lot of dead Iraqi civilians and bombed out buildings Saddam has nothing to worry about because the only thing that US combat troops abroad are capable of "getting" is the death of allied troops from "friendly fire" and the clap from local whores!

T.V.'s Frank Windsor says:

"Sick of snails ruining your garden? Then try smacking the little bastards with a hammer!"

Tuesday, January 21, 2003

Come on you have to admit it, some of those Pommy backpackers that venture Downunder are just asking for it.
Mad pommy backpacker.
Quick Peggy, get out the frigging 303!

James Herriot's Christopher Timothy says:

"You'll be dead soon so buy some life insurance."

97: John Prescott. Deliberately born in 1951 so that he'd missed the Second World War, Prescott soon began to put on weight due to the forced feeding of offal pies and slabs of lard by his old fashioned parents. By the age of six he'd reached a staggering 32 stone per leg and often used his jowls to trip up the other children in his playground. After being voted School Bully for 1959 Prescott took up boxing, becoming one of the political heavyweights by the 1970s but still pursing his old career of bullying toddlers until the ripe old age of 52. By now his weight was becoming a problem for the infrastructure of the old Yorkshire roads and he was moved to the more solid grounds of Westminster in two very large jaguars. (One for each breast.)

Finding it more and more difficult to financially support his three Indian elephants and four bucket of marsupials a day habit, Prescott decided to sell off his greatest assets, those being his socialist principles. When elected to office of Deputy Prime Minister in the early 1990s his chin measured a colossal fifteen feet round with a dimple of 84 yards in depth. In later years his heart was transplanted for something more adequate to take the strain, namely a pebble. After telling egg-wielding reporters to "Fuck off or 'ee'd lamp 'em one" during a routine wobble through Snowdonia Prescott was finally arrested for having child pornography tattooed round his neck. "It was like the Bayou tapestry," commented Chief Inspector Brush of the Yard. "Only more explicit and involvin' bananas."

Prescott is now buried at his luxury garage in Northumberland and stretches for more than thirteen miles along Hadrian's Wall.

Over one third of Britain's military has now been sent to the Gulf in preparation for a war with Iraq that the government claim they hope won't happen. Back at home the fire brigade are about to go on strike again. (Who can blame them, really? I mean the war...ahem...possible war, is going to cost somewhere in the region of 30 billion quid in bombs and tanks alone.) Unfortunately this means that the remaining military will be occupied putting out fires rather than defending the country. "This is outrageous!" a spokesperson for the Conservative Party spat into his porridge this morning. "We could be invaded by any old crack pot and there'd be sod all we could do about it." To further heighten tensions the Welsh Assembly showed clear signs of taking advantage of England's difficult situation this morning when it rounded up 15,000 sheep and amassed them along Offer's Dyke. The Prime Minister was not available for comment as he was having plastic surgery to narrow his tongue after President Bush's sphincter muscles tightened in anger last Thursday.

Anti-terrorist intelligence today led to a raid on a central London sect of the First Church of the Asylum (FCA) that is suspected of a series of attacks on the British people. Police stormed an address in Downing Street in the early hours of this morning and arrested several idiots who claimed to be running the Asylum.
Head of FCA, Tony Baloney, who is said to have close links with international warmonger, Bush the Barbarian, is being questioned about his blatant attempts to destroy British social, financial, military and political institutions (Don’t you mean introduce radical new policies designed to take Britain into the 21st Century? Ed).
Baloney’s Consort-Royal, Cherie the Profitess, (Don’t you mean Prophetess? Ed.) (No, shut the fuck up! TS.), defended her husband claiming he was the best leader this country ever had and the miserable gits who were born here are not fit to lick his feet so obviously don’t deserve him.
Several tons of documents, said to be evidence of Baloney’s plans to destroy any hope of a decent future for all creeds and colours who have British nationality and are not rolling in dosh, together with bin bags stuffed with empty rhetoric and false promises, were taken away for examination.
Baloney, who possesses weapons of mass destruction, is an enemy of common sense and is known to harbour terrorists, will be interrogated about the continual breakdown of British territorial borders to the amusement of the French Government later today.

Britain reserves right to attack Iraq: Blair.

The British Prime Minister, Tony Blair, says he has no doubt Iraq has weapons of mass destruction and the full capacity to use them.

And the weapons inspectors will find them. Should be pretty bloody easy. They have "Made in Britain" or "Product of the USA" on them.

Mr Blair is still facing questioning by House of Commons Committee, mainly on the topic of Iraq.

Tony will exercise his right to "phone a friend" on the tricky ones. "I would like to call my friend George in Washington. He's a bit of an expert on puppet regimes gone feral."

He says Saddam Hussein certainly has biological and chemical weapons and is attempting to rebuild a nuclear capability.

The line from the film with that Meg Ryan sheila says it all, "I'll have what he's not having".

He says Britain would reserve the right to attack Iraq if there was a veto for a second resolution in the United Nations Security Council.

How dare these pricks exercise their right to veto, that's not we're paying them for! The England Cricket team is itching to have a crack at Saddam's Imperial Guards Eleven. "Their SCUDS will be no match for our GOOGLIES, BOUNCERS and YORKERS", proclaimed a confident Nassar Hussain. (Hey, that's a suss name for a bloke going into bat for the free world!)

The British leader acknowledges many people are against the war but believes he can turn public opinion around ahead of any conflict.

"On the advice of my wife I have employed Mr. Peter Foster to head a witch hunt an inquiry into the misguided people who are against this just crusade. He will be collecting the names and addresses of these raghead loving, anti British, traitorous, AIDS spreading, child molesting bastards who will then either be sent to re-education camps or be provided with a free frontal lobotomy for life courtesy of the recently upgraded 5 chairs-no-waiting NHS."

But you British lot can let Tony know he's dead wrong.

Mr Blair also defended his close alliance with President George W Bush, saying it would not be fair for the United States to have to face these issues alone.

The Prime Minister has been reinforced in his view by the profound advice offered by his senior foreign policy advisor Dame Tammy Wynette, "Stand by your man. Some times it's hard to be a dog givin' all your love to just one man. You'll have sad times and he'll have good times, doin' things that you don't understand. But if you love him you'll forgive him even though he's hard to understand. And if you love him, aww, be proud of him cuz after all he's just a poodle fancier."

Some blogs that pop up on the "Most recently updated" list at Blogger provide fascinating insights into the lives of others. The Oprahesque full confessional blog, the omphaloskepsic blog, the teenage angst blog, the rightwing harangue blog and, most of all, blogs providing evidence that the capacity to chew grammar and type at the same time is in recessional free fall. But I digress and pompously pontificate ... love it when I do that ... I come over all tingly-like!

Forget Jennifer (of "Brad wants me to have his 12 babies" fame), Callista (of "Harrison thinks I'm fat" fame) and Barbra (of "Does my nose look big in this" fame). Camgirl "Allcurves" of :: The Ponderings of a Curvy Mind :: had me captivated. Continuing the tradition begun by the great diarist Samuel Pepys (how much more appropriate it would have been for the purposes of this posting had his name been spelt phonetically, but you can't have everything), Camgirl "Allcurves" tells us she was "at a crucial hairstyle fork in the road" back on Monday, January 21, 2002. But it wasn't a problem that kept her from expressing thanks, care and concern for some of her clientele.

"Anyhooo...first things first. One of my sweet viewers ordered some items for me from Fetish Factory on my Wish List . I am so excited...but...these items were ordered some time ago and I have not received them. I know that Fetish Factory takes a bit to ship...but my concern is that whoever ordered these wonderful gifts from me was billed and the order was misplaced :-( So, to whoever the sweetheart is that ordered the scrumptious might want to check with Fetish Factory's customer service to make sure the order was processed and shipped or going to be shipped."


:: The Ponderings of a Curvy Mind ::

I'll be back Allcurves. See you at the tonsorial crossroads around midnight.

John Howard Speaks Bullshit Out!

"My fellow wombat fuckers. I would like to take this P.R. opportunity to express my sorrow and walletfelt condolences to everyone who lost their homes and/or loved ones in the worst Australian bush fire since Kylie Minogue stood too close to the barbie. Words fail me. Frequently. On a more positive note, however, now that the flames are out we've finally got the ashes back in Australia where they belong."

Dear Terry;

We must not be impatient. We must be kind and considerate of those who are less fortunate than we are. You, of all people, should realize this, just remembering your litany of problems both financial and moral, they mirror my own sad tear filled story, boring though that may be. I am sure you do not wish me to waste space here by recounting the founding of the Weaver dynasty in the Black Forest and subsequent migration of the small greasy short hairy men that were to become not just dwarves but mighty warriors in the founding of Great Britain, even before it had a name but was more a place for Romans to ravage. Those Romans! Little did they realize just slightly West was a great continent, soon to be discovered by those same small hairy men seeking whisky and filled with a desire to carve a new life out of the American Indian. (This story is fully recounted by the Firesign Group.) I am sure you remember what then happened, filthy railroad crews laid a shinning band of steel rails across them all. Then they made big engine parts, big guns, and then the man who was to become the dearest friend of Tony Blair President Bush II was born to take oil from the ground and smoke very large cigars. Probably made in Cuba by North Korean specialists.

It was all down hill from there. So you see all is not as simple as you so callously make out to be? Especially about the genitals, how could you say such things about a National leader? Have you seen them? Have you been looking under skirts where you shouldn't? You are a very nasty person.

Editor's note: Weaver, you are correct in the assumption that Terry Sedgwick is a very nasty person. There are currently fifteen baby wombats pressing 'historical' charges against him for indecent exposure and illegal entry to their private mounds, along with a fifteen second old kangaroo from Wogga Wogga (still bald, only three inches long and plucked from its mother's pouch whilst suckling) that has set a legal precedent for brutal rape accusations as well as allegations of grand buggery, plagerism and wearing odd socks. The video is now available from 'Rolf Harris Enterprises, 69 Ozziebeard Street, Reading' priced £11.99. Extended footage of the koala torture chamber previously untransmitted on the Channel 5 documentary is also available on DVD.

Monday, January 20, 2003

Anybody want to contact Tony Blair to tell him he's a wonderfully charismatic leader? Or, forbid the thought, that he's a genitally challenged war mongering cheshire cat. Well have a looky here. This is most recent episode (with lovely pics of "Our Tone") in a fascinating saga which started HERE.

Anti war page updated to include emails of people who don't want to hear from you. Also there's now a little baby love child of Brian's big banner that you can put on your site. Thank you Raelians, thank you ball boys.

Thora Hird says:

"Those walk-in baths are alright but they fuckin' take forever to fill up and your tits get cold sittin' there."

Or rather misquote:

Singing, One, Two, Three, Four,
What are we fighting for?
Don't know and we don't give a damn,
We're all off to kill Saddam,
No time to wonder why,
Whoopee, we're all gonna die!

Mr Houghton from the butchers, 'ee reckons there's goin' t' be a war. Oh, I do 'ope so. I like a good war. The last one against the krauts was a right good laugh. There was a sense of community back then, y' know? Not like today w'at with all the pakis an' thespians an' w'at 'ave y' bringin' the neighbour 'ood down. Another war 'ud do 'em good! Give 'em all some discipline in the army! They don't like queers there. It'd knock the homosapians out of 'em, (pardon my leprechaun) an' no mistake.

I do 'ope those nice Yanks come back over 'ere like they did the last time. Such lovely boys an' such nice teeth. Cocks were a bit small mind ('scuse my Lebanese) an' they didn't last long w'en they was shaggin' but what else could y' do w'en your own 'usband was off bayoneting 'Arry 'Un? We got up to all sorts o' bayoneting' ourselves back at 'ome, that's w'at.

"Ignorant Yanky shits," My 'Enry used t' call 'em. "Over paid, over sexed an' over 'ere," 'ee'd say, God rest his pyjamas. "Took 'em four years longer than everyone else to stand up t' the 'un an' w'en they finally see some action they all run off screamin' like bloomin' girls!" Don't know about screamin'. They did plenty o' gruntin' out in my privy though. An' then us women would 'ave to practice with the bayonets ourselves, those bein' knitting needles an' a bottle o' gin. The local cut must be full o' abhorations due to the illegitimate fumblin' w'at went on durin' the blitz.

I remember Mrs Pickford, down at the grocers, got caught short one night with 'er drawers round 'er ankles an' a lieutenant parked up 'er arse ('scuse my Napoleon) when a bomb 'it 'er chimney pot. We did laugh! They carted 'em off in the meat wagon, two charcoaled crisps with big oggly eyes. Looked like nig nogs they did, with wisps o' smoke comin' off their 'eads. Times were 'ard back then, but we were 'appy. A tin o' bully beef, a sausage up the front bottom an' Gracie Fields on the radio, that's all we wanted.

Bugger it. I'm so excited 'bout this Iraqi war kickin' off I've wet me knickers. I'm an 'undred and ninety six, y' know? I 'aven't 'ad relations for 'alf a century an' me artifice 'as almost 'ealed up.

Thora Hird says...

"It's time you bought a Stannah Chairlift you old cunts!"

Strike me frigging dead, some bugger's walked over me grave.

That new Brian bloke what you lot have press ganged onto this Blog has history. If you had paid me the common courtesy of consulting your olders and frigging betters (O.K. you can be forgiven for ignoring that geriatric pile of suppurating ringworms, the striptease artist formerly known as Great Grandma Hughes) I could have told you a thing or two about this right little viper you're now nestling in your bosom.

Weaver?, Weaver? ... that name rings a bell I says to myself. Ring a frigging bell?! Pack of tone deaf campanologists flogging their dongers more's like!

Back in 1935 I used to step out with a young blade called Hugo Weaver, who lived in Kalgoorlie's finest mansion, "Tara". Hugo's parents thought their evacuations didn't stink and that young Peggy Farcus lived light years away from the right side of the tracks.

Hugo paid them no mind and we made a dashing couple at the shearing shed dances.

It was at one of these dances that fate was to deal me a terrible blow. I had had just one too many "Sheep Dip Wallbangers". I led Hugo around the back of the crutching pens where, to put it delicately, I shagged him within an inch of his life.

Back in those days we knew nowt about "protection". There was none of those AIDS that you could catch from toilet seats. The worst you could expect was a touch of pizzle rot or a little dose of flesh eating gonhorrea, which cleared up in a few days if you gave the infected area a good rubbing with a camphor block.

Anyway to cut a long appendage short, I got Hugo pregnant. Holy shit! Didn't all Hell broke loose?! You'd have thought I'd left open the main paddock gate open and let that Chamberlain kiddie in to kill the baby dingoes!

My parents were angry and unforgiving. I was cast out into the driving snow with only what I stood up in. (Actually, come to think of it I think it was a frigging 120 mile an hour dust storm and bushfire. I still have the scar on the back of my neck where I got clobbered by a bit of rusty corrugated iron from the Wilson's cow shed.)

Of course the toffee bloody nosed Weavers weren't going to have their name dragged down into the dust, so they spirited my Hugo away to America where he could secretly have the baby.

I heard later that it was a boy. A boy called Brian. (Johnny Cash hadn't yet written that transgendery preverted song thank God.)

So there it is, I believe my long lost, wrong side of the crutching pen, son has been found. Do I want him back? Do I want to go on Oprah for a tearful reunion and a $10,000 appearance fee? Would you welcome a full blown American back into your bosom after all these years? (Even if there's enough room in there to fit the entire Mormon Tabernackered Choir.)

I don't frigging think so, and I would appreciate it if this Banquo's ghost of a son would afford me the courtesy of keeping his posts at an appropriate distance from mine or I'll have him up for frigging cybuggery stalking.

Let me tell you one more thing young Weaver, Hugo wasn't much of a root!

I want to first of express my intense embarrassing gratitude for being asked to join ROTW. I am sure all of you know by now that I am an American. I bestride the world like a colossus. I am invincible. My ego knows no bounds and for the most part I am totally unaware of my impact on others, especially if they live in small little island countries that used to be great empires. I want you to know that we look upon you as we always have, with the same kind of repect that we have for small helpless Aunts and children. That said I also want you to know what a thrill it for me to be allowed to expose myself as the psychophantic approval seeking boot licking smarmy toady that I really am, to an audience that is no doubt too good for me. Thanks again! Really, I love you all!

I'd like to take this time to discuss those small tags that you find on pillows and mattresses. Oh wait, you probably want me to make fun of something or attack a well known person who is in the public eye, you want me to say bad things about people I know nothing about. You want me to use high irony and wit, something as an American is extremely difficult for me, probably due to a deficient education. I try to keep secret the fact that I passed 8th grade by what used to be called a "Social Promotion".

I find this kind of anger and negativity on the part of ROTW to be very small minded indeed, not like my own desire for the kind of high minded purpose that would make ROTW a real money making opportunity for lonely housewives, and skill less unemployed mechanics, to make money by offering to make ROTW a great marketing spot for lamps and hand made knitted puppies.

If there is more to be said in the future regarding this golden money making opportunity I can assure you I will not rest until you all have sent me a contribution to effect this wonderful new direction. Please remember to convert your really funny looking money to US currency.

Until then I remain faithfully in deep gratitude. Let's all try to keep the foul mouthed trash talk to a minimum OK? Isn't there enough negativity in the world?

Deputy Editor's note. Brian, as you will have noticed we (along with the entire staff of the Department of Homeland Security can intervene and put whatever words and HTML we choose into your mouth. Be assured we exercise this power with the utmost and absolute capriciousness and malice aforethought. So far we have been responsible for the execution in Texas of no less than 87 (and counting) innocent people.

Editor's note: Welcome aboard Brian#2 (or, as I shall refer to you from now on to save any future confusion and to also give an air of authority: Weaver). Don't worry about having to find anything witty or intelligent to say on this Blogger board. As you've no doubt already noticed nobody else bloody does. Just a couple of points to straighten out (as the actress said to Kevin Coffee), those being that this is not exclusively a 'British' board. It just seems that way due to the inordinate amount of bum, knob and fart jokes on it. Mr Sedgwick, for example, is Antipodean (which is a posh sounding name for a wombat fucker). Mr Coffee is one of your fellow Americans (we're an equal opportunities site and feel we ought to do the 'right thing' for our disabled cousins). Paul Morgan is an American of Welsh extraction (and possibly sheep extraction) and Joe...well, Joe seems to be from a different planet altogether. Everyone else is probably British but it's difficult to tell with any certainty, some of Twisted Sister's postings having a hint of Bohemia about them and Great Grandma Hughes just being an homogenus bitch fatale. Whatever the case, I hope you enjoy your time with us and don't just post one item like most of the ignorant bastards we invite onboard before buggering off into the night worried that the Homeland Security boys will be scouring their countries for them.

Dear Editor,

You are being far too kind and accommodating.
Let's cut to the chase, sacrifice the bugger right now.
(You did say he was an organically grown,
sacrifice quality virgin?)

Yours Sincerely,
"A Concerned Deputy Editor."

Sunday, January 19, 2003

Just testing out this apparently quick, easy and free remote linking site. Try it here ...

If it works, I won't be holding my breath about how long it might be around, but make hay while the flowers bloom in the spring of a greek bearing gifts, as my grey haired Granny used to say before we had her humanely put down.

A propos Tony's pathological desire to bloody Saddam's conk ... does this have a familiar ring to it?

Spot the Difference

Saddam: A power-crazed, smug-faced, bigoted, religious zealot and tin-pot dictator who took control of his country regardless of whether the electorate wanted him there or not and then surrounded himself by military comrades.
Dubbya: A power-crazed, smug-faced, bigoted, religious zealot and tin-pot dictator who took control of his country regardless of whether the electorate wanted him there or not and then surrounded himself by military comrades.

Saddam: Shoots his own people through the head if they break the law.
Dubbya: Kills his own people by lethal injection or the electric chair if they break the law.

Saddam: Set fire to the oil wells in Kuwait causing untold amounts of environmental damage.
Dubbya: Refused to sign up to the summit in which all of the other western leaders agreed to take action against global warming and rainforest destruction, thus allowing America to continue causing untold amounts of environmental damage.

Saddam: Keeps his own people ignorant of the truth by manipulation of the country's media.
Dubbya: Keeps his own people ignorant of the truth by manipulation of the country's media.

Saddam: Is known to have developed biological and chemical weapons in spite of the Geneva Convention.
Dubbya: Is known to have developed biological and chemical weapons in spite of the Geneva Convention.

Saddam: Believed to have enough weapons of mass destruction, including those of a nuclear variety, to take out a sizeable chunk of the Middle East.
Dubbya: Believed to have enough weapons of mass destruction, including those of a nuclear variety, to destroy the entire World fifteen times over.

Saddam: Supports terrorism through weapons supply and funding, including the Al Queada network.
Dubbya: Helped set up the Al Queada training camps in Afghanistan with his father to fight the Russians. Also known to have supported the IRA both in weapons and funds for many decades.

Saddam: Wants to destroy the West and become the most powerful man in the World.
Dubbya: Wants to destroy the East and become the most powerful man in the World.

Saddam: Has lots of oil wells.
Dubbya: Hasn't got Saddam's oil wells yet.

Once you've found the answer send it on a postcard to:
The "History will record you as the arse-licking toadie who ignored his people and plunged us all into war" Contest,
c/o Tony bin Blair,
10 Downing Street,

And from the desk of the Deputy Editor.


I know it's hard to tell but this exquisitely crafted,
side-splitting cartoon is not by Judy Horacek.

You may see it appear in Scrag Ends livery one day
... soon as he's finished ransacking Larson's archives.