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Foreword by low flying city editor Dick Action
 Welcome to issue 8 of the Evening Bog Standard: the unpatronising voice of the little bog standard people.
The Evening Bog Standard is updating a day late as Dick Action has been supporting a charity event for Black History Month. Here at the Evening Bog Standard we like the blues and those of you who don't like it quite so much often say, after several jars: 'Robert Johnson [everybody kneel] - he sold his soul to the devil on the crossroads for a career in music, didn't he'?
No. He had talent and practised like everybody else. We need the human, not the myths. Otherwise we no longer own language. It used to belong only to the aristocracy, remember? And if we go back that way, we may as well just roll over with our legs in the air and die.
So remember: Cathart the darker, frazzled depths of your internal dialogue. Lower your tones and tone your lows.
Life is not a brand. The only remaining protest is against ourselves.
Believe in the power of negative thought. Don't listen to all those suburban faux-viveurs, posing metrosexuals, prissy purveyors of 'positivity' and riders of BMXs aged over 30.
By clicking on these pages you know you're right and they're wrong: world is virus and we merely snot around in the dirt. So don't just smash your ceiling lights with a shovel, when next maudlin on whisky: check out our pages and share the vitriol.
Stick with me and you'll go a short way, but it will be a rage-fuelled and glorious way. Or possibly just a bit depressing. Which is all you deserve.
Dick has spoken.
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Alan Johnson: Pledge to tackle Crime
"It works well on furniture" he offered. Home Secretary Alan Johnson promises to respond to public anxiety over anti-social behaviour by tackling it "whenever and wherever it occurs".
"Dettol may also be useful", he said, gasping for air.
We asked him why he was so out of breath:
"It's the cape", he explained, "It weighs a ton when you've just ran for the 38"
We were informed he would be given super powers if Labour won the election but for now relied on a mixture of buses and running.
The home secretary said crime had fallen significantly under Labour except for when it hadn't and accused the Tories of talking "John Wayne rhetoric" - but having no policies to back it up. David Cameron got off his horse, drank some milk, spat in the rye and denied the accusation. Both he and Alan will meet at dawn by the old widower's tree.
Yobs to be Arrested for Biting the Heads off Jelly Babies, first.
Mr Straw said it was "utter nonsense" to suggest that Asbos were viewed as medals by those causing trouble, adding: "The Victoria Beckham Cross isn't handed out lightly: you have to at least fail to spell Mississippi".
"We are in touch with the electorate's priorities" the minister continued, "and if you look at arrest rates for anti-social behaviour, not only have we reprimanded John Prescott several times; we are committed to arresting those callous youths who bite the heads off jelly babies before they've eaten any of the other bits".
Alan Johnson agreed, before spinning round inside a telephone box: "It's the only way I manage to read all the cards".
Labour Rallying Cries Written by the Ghost of JR Tolkein, we can't reveal.
"There may come a day when men do not stand and fight. But it won't be this day: it'll be in about seven months time when there's no seats left. But wait: that is no flibbertygibbet Tory horn. Look to the East. It is the Elven Dems. They've left their sherry and whist drive for the day".
"I am Clegghorn come to take my place as rightful heir to the throne of Gordon".
"I'd leave it a bit if I were you".
"The covetous eye of Cameron is upon us. Away to Helms Deep: the themed sea food carvery in the Blackpool Hilton up the road. Our survival now depends upon getting all the little people of the land to throw themselves willingly into the fire of recession before being carried away by giant wizard birds".
A prompt from the wings shouted 'now' and all the peoples of Middle Class Earth spontaneously stood up in their little red seats and applauded this no-nonsense cry to arms. |
Iranian Missiles to Wear a Dress
So what exactly is the problem with a country that manipulates the vote, beats up its democratic protestors (and often its homosexuals) being in possession of long range nuclear weapons?
But enough about Britain and America. You'd think a president with a name that sounded like After Dinner Jazz might be more mellow. But you'd be wrong. Iran's President likes nothing better than rounding up a few miscreants for displaying tailor's female mannequins: in a clothes shop of all the cheek!
Surely his opponents are coming from the wrong angle? Why plunder the Middle East by violent brinkmanship from about 1750 onwards (until Ivory became a distraction) and then expect everybody to be really pleased? Why use sanctions to try and starve Iran's people (who, only weeks ago, openly opposed their rigid and facistic government, en masse, on the streets)? Why appease Iran's motley crew of ultra-mysoginist fat-arsed clerics with macho talk?
There are two far more colourful choices:
1) Sneak into the nuclear bases and make all his missiles wear a dress. Or just take a big paint brush and write 'Man love is funky' on the side of each one in permanent paint and they'll never see the light of day again.
2) If the President of Iran thinks the female form, the ability for women to make choices, and the liberty of gay people, are so terrifying, he doesn't need missiles; he can simply send in the girls and homosexuals.
Training will be swift because they'll be used to running towards the border and also be quite good at hiding. He won't be able to suppress them because his prejudices will lead him to believe they are too valuable a defence. Finally they'll become empowered. And when this newly liberated army run towards any invading troops of our respective governments, we can finally put down our own weapons, stop shooting people who don't deserve it and have a party.
Then again it was only a decade or two ago, Britain was making noises about the problems of having gay men in the army: we were afraid it would become full of moustachioed men in uniforms and peaked caps...
Harry Gets High on Charity Work
'My nose could do with a few donations' said the benevolent Royal, on his first day. Harry then reportedly took a ciggy break at one minute past nine and met a man outside in a shiny black BMW.
But he didn't stop there. Determined to improve the lives of millions of people who think he's probably a wanker, the poverty fighting prince sponsored himself to drink up to ten bottles of champagne in a sitting.
Almost as many as his Grandma when she used to be alive and waving. But granny was raising cash for old horses whereas Harry is sending his wedge to the BNP. However, due to organisational difficulties, this event failed to take place in his local brewery.
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Public Image LLimited
In a sensitive and insightful interview, we asked Gordon Brown: 'Are you on pills for your nerves and are you sleeping in the car?
"I absolutely deny that I am taking any big black prescription ravens landing on my face..." he asserted. "If I want to be paranoid I simply listen to somebody else from the Labour party give a speech".
He washed down a handful of glow in the dark, foaming capsules and continued:
"I will not use ill health as a pretext for standing down from this government. Why should I, when I can draw on other, numerous naiveties"?
There is obviously more street cred. left in Gordy Brown than we realised; not to mention a feel-good factor; given the Prime Minister then took time to dance around his desk a while:
"Man, that's the best music I've ever heard"
We explained it was just the sound of a lorry reversing outside and his mood seem to swing:
'Mandelson is right', said Brown, in an unusual and sudden display of slipper machismo: "Questions about my health and doctors appointments are intrusive, so back off tweetie pie". (The Prime Minister then disappeared to the toilet and came back complaining of singed nostril hair).
"I have every ounce of faith...in fact I have every ounce, and I am told by many voices - even when I'm on my own - that nobody wants a Tory, shadowy flibbertigibbet".
We asked him if that was because their policies were seen as knee-jerk responses to recent micro-crises but he said:
"No: it's because nobody beyond 1878 knows what 'flibbetybiggbet' means".
The Prime Minister then left the office to find a voter who still wanted 'to suck my love pump".
Acknowledgements:
Man in cape, anonymous at: flickr.com
Itinerant from: Band Members, tramp master, myspace.com
Prince Harry from: samjaza.co.uk
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Evening Bog Standard 4/Oct/09 Issue 7