I’m often blamed for being pessimistic. Well, I’m an optimist who has collected all the facts.


Guys get at me, for going on about how terrible it all is, and how we are going down into a New Dark Age, and the like. All right, let’s just look at today’s news, or some of it.

The Torygraph leads (2nd or 3rd) with a go about how “binge drinking” has not “been curbed” by relaxing licensing laws. The usual fascist “alliance of suspects” teams up behind “some experts”, to shout about how nasty it is that some people get pissed in public sometimes or more often than that.

Look, it’s bloody cold and wet and windy up here on the Island. This has been for 1,400 years due to Al Gore who you lot gave a Noble Prize to, for talking crap and prostituting scientists. We came here coz’ we couldn’t stand you lot of Romanized pimps wot drank wine and stuff (and ate barbecued mice in fish sauce, and little live birds in brandy, and frogs and snails (garlic-flavoured-rubber, but not entirely unpleasant if the garlic was good enough)), and other unmentionables.

We ‘azz to keep warm somehow. So wee getz drunk, alright? Usually in a “go”, now and then, as we hazz to go and work to grow stuff all year and do the hedges and things like that in the freezing rain so the cows don’t trample all over the food, unlike you lot back in Romanland who izz on benefits and getz paid by us through the CAP to not grow stuff, using our taxes. So we azz to drink gallons at once. The wenches too, it’s their night off as well you see.

It’s more economical to drink like that, as we only needz to get drunk say once or twice a week, unlike your grizzly “sweet old men sitting 3×3 on sunlit steps with moustaches smiling at the tourists’ People-Movers”, and who are probably faintly pissed to a slight haziness the whole time.

While we getz drunk, we all sing tunelessly about about how ‘orrible you lot are and about how we all killed Grendel the EUmonster the other day and we left the bloody frogs. Then we goes and rapes all the wenches afterwards in the barn, on whatever hay izz not too damp and cold and covered with rat-droppings. The wenches oblige by dressing like Big Brother and showing they’s meaningless tattoos on they’s bums (and other places) for us to notice, so we all knowz they izz “up for it” and it’s all right.

More taxation will only turn alcohol into a commodity like drugs, which will be stolen and mugged for. The Police will have more forms, and more different ones, to fill in, and less will be done to mitigate the baleful effects of adding another prohibited substance to the long and increasing list that fuels petty crime.

I wonder how long before we will be forbidden to own ammonium nitrate, or cars, or glue that sticks anything other than paper together?

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