Why all is not well in the “sceptered isle”—why “the great and the good” are misunderstood—the outstanding “Nucembaptists”—the foreign adventure—the other Siamese twin—where a hornet “wears his sting”.
The “Sceptered Isle”
Now our knowledge of the recent political history of bulldog Britain is not extensive, but as it may well be better than yours, dear reader, let us explain why our friend is so perturbed.
It seems that life is changing in that sceptred isle. A land that was the birth place of freedom and that was once admired around the globe for upholding the rights of the individual has become—under the joint “stewardship” of what our friend calls “Butcher Blair” and “Bubba Brown”—a tyrant state.
And yes, those rumours are true: the freedom-loving Burnets of Barnstable are retiring to a bungalow in Beijing!
Now we feel it’s most unkind to use the designations “Butcher Blair” and “Bubba Brown” respectively for the Prime Minister and Chancellor of Great Britain. We feel that “Dear Tone” and “Dear Gordy” are better names for these “regular guys”. And don’t go and email us saying that Dear Tone has killed over 100,000 people in Iraq and therefore deserves the epithet “The Butcher of Basra”. We would point out in his defence that Dear Tone didn’t personally kill all those people. It’s much the same misunderstanding that arises regarding all those local hospitals that Dear Tone has closed down in the UK. If your relative dies on the long journey to the nearest hospital you wouldn’t say Dear Tone killed your relative, now would you? He didn’t arrive by helicopter, commandeer the ambulance, and then personally throttle your beloved Granny, now did he? And it’s the same with all those people who were silly enough to be in the wrong place when clouds of poison gas spread through the town of Halabja in Iraq during the time of Saddam Hussein. Saddam didn’t poison them personally, now did he? The fundamental problem seems to be that we ordinary beings fail to understand great men of the stature of Hitler, Hussein, Blair, and Bush!
Might is Right!
Now there’s no need for the lawyers amongst you to start talking about the Geneva Convention, or the historians amongst you to recall that similar pleas of “not doing the deed directly” were entered at a place called Nuremburg, but that the accused still swung. We must point out that historians who make such claims have rather selective memories regarding the really important facts of history. The reason why certain persons swung at Nuremburg was because they were guilty, guilty of being on the losing side! You can’t accuse Dear Tone and Dear George of that sin, now can you? You see these two outstanding “Nucembaptists”, exemplars to Christians everywhere, understand the fundamental moral principle that we should all come to terms with: namely, that “might is right”!
The Foreign Adventure
Now, to return to recent UK history. Seeing his popularity fade, Dear Tone thought that a “foreign affair”—with Dear George, of course—was “just the ticket” to divert attention away from his dismal performance on the domestic front. After all, chapter one of that infamous tome How to Survive in Politics is entitled “The Foreign Adventure”.
Even better, as a lawyer, he had a precedent to go by. Once upon a time there was a woman called Maggie: she had “balls”; she fought a war to liberate territory that belonged to Britain; she won the war and received many plaudits for her valiant victory. Now Dear Tone figured that a similar war was just what he needed to boost his popularity. Unfortunately, like the man in the song that he seems so keen on emulating, Dear Tone has “no balls at all”; he fought a war to conquer territory that belonged to someone else; he won the war, lost the peace, and received many two-fingered salutes for his ignominious defeat.
Now if, in your quest for honey, you drive your fist into a hornet’s nest, you—or the citizens of the country who have the mischance to have you as their Prime Minister—are likely to get stung. However, for Dear Tone this fluttering of angry wings has proved somewhat of a godsend. It gives him the opportunity to wage war upon the hornets, a campaign that, once again, helps to divert attention away from his domestic disasters, disasters that grow in number by the day.
The other Siamese Twin
Of course, Dear Gordy has become increasingly anxious that his sharing of a body with this error-prone Puck of a Siamese twin may not augur well. What will happen when the twins are finally separated? What will he see when he gets to look in the mirror for the first time? Will he see a head that wears a crown, or one that bears an uncanny resemblance to Shakespeare’s “Bottom”?
Where a Hornet wears his Sting
In any case, as we were saying, Dear Tone is on the warpath again. And this time his “Oceania” is battling the hornets of “Mideastasia”. And where doth a hornet wear his sting? Not in his tail according to Dear Tone, but in his encrypted file!
Here endeth the history lesson. Now you can see why Dear Tone is targeting all those “villainous” people who possess encrypted files. Next we’ll discuss his “method”, while leaving you, dear reader, to ponder upon his “madness”!