Sunday, November 16, 2008

TTG's Contro-verse -16/11/08


Georgie gets a Pound-ing

Ozzy better start counting his retirement pennies as his recent "gaffe" or as TTG sees it, TRUTH that there would be a 'run on the pound' didn't have pal Cammy's backing.

Here's TTG's penny worth on our fab credit cruncher.

Much ado-ugh about nothing, if you ask TTG! Just because Broon doesn't want to open up that his so-called golden years as the Iron Chancellor were actually a well orchestrated piece of fine PR, it doesn't mean that his critics are wrong.

As far as TTG is concerned, in total naivity on matters of monetary, being a Borrower doesn't fix debt, it just makes you go further into the red (just how Gordon likes it - commie bastard)

Yes, there is a recession. Yes the country has hit the fan and now the pan as we go panning for gold in countries we have no business sniffing around.

The pound is at a thirteen year low - It's not as if Oz plucked the idea out of the air. It adds up.

Well done George for pounding the truth out there. As the Scouts say, we need to Be Prepared. C'mon, let's be frank. What's the worst that can happen? We've got the credit crunch, a state where anarchy is the head, with its tracksuit, knife wielding-4 pixel camera equipped happy slapper yobs, keen to get that picture of you sprawled on the pavement.

And yet even with the country wheezing, inhaling its last breaths of prosperity, polls suggest that Labour, the party that with its wishy washy namby pampy distorted soft socialist ideals are scrambling up to poll position.

Ha ha ha. Very funny. You almost got TTG there....oh it's a serious claim? You must be joking? How on earth can Labour be only five points away from the Tories? 'Cos last time TTG checked, unpopular Broon was er, still securely tipped to the top.

Maybe it could be convincing if that not so hot Scot had been the subject of a power coup but unfortunately the arrogant smirk is very much in the air.

It's almost as unbelievable as the Fife election result...Well Gordy, you do have a top voting record, with many of them signed under your own name.

Is that the General plan too? Rig the ballots and do a "2005"? TTG has heard the latest ICM and MORI poll liners - are you basing your growing popularity on questions that refuse to let you damn the Government?

Fabrication, fabrication, fabrication. The one policy you didn't copy from the Blue ring.

And talking of policies, are TTG's kidneys still on the menu? TTG sees that bodysnatchery and the presumed ability to seize our organs is set to come back in 2013. A bit confident, eh? You really think that Britain will vote in Labour again?

Silly TTG, what with your called-upon convicts with the franchise, there's no way you can lose.

It's a hard knock life for us, the law abiding. We will spawn a generation of teens, dreaming of a life behind bars. Where total escapism is rife, where cons don't face bills, changing nappies, taxes.

For the higher on the crime chain you are, the higher the perks. Forget just consoles and cushty flat cells. But shorter sentences, free bodyguards, no call on your life and the ability to put to the back of your mind the lives you destroyed climbing to that notoriety.

A celeb lifestyle without an ounce of hard graft.

And if the Gov thinks TTG is going to pay up for the perpetrators of the horrific sadist abuse of Baby P, they've got another thing coming!

As you will have read, Baby P, was tormented for the duration of his short life. Nails ripped off, back broken, a human punch bag for the two people who were meant to nurture and mother him.

But what of his abusers? Will they pay the price with an "eye for a eye", or in their own flesh? Of course not. They will be forgiven, pardoned, protected but most importantly rewarded for their abuse against humanity, against a defenceless child.

The justice system is a joke, run by nothing more than a bunch of hyenas,. predators centred on their own self-preservation with no conscience for those they dragged behind in the dirt.

Kipling's poem Hyaenas could be written today to sum up the social services, the doctor and the parents, all part of this tragic travesty of justice.

After the burial-parties leave
And the baffled kites have fled;
The wise hyænas come out at eve
To take account of our dead.
How he died and why he died
Troubles them not a whit.
They snout the bushes and stones aside
And dig till they come to it.
They are only resolute they shall eat
That they and their mates may thrive,
And they know that the dead are safer meat
Than the weakest thing alive.
(For a goat may butt, and a worm may sting,
And a child will sometimes stand;
But a poor dead soldier of the King
Can never lift a hand.)
They whoop and halloo and scatter the dirt
Until their tushes white
Take good hold in the army shirt,
And tug the corpse to light,
And the pitiful face is shewn again
For an instant ere they close;
But it is not discovered to living men—
Only to God and to those
Who, being soulless, are free from shame,
Whatever meat they may find.
Nor do they defile the dead man’s name—
That is reserved for his kind.

TTG dedicates this song for little Baby P, who with God's grace can now rest among angels and archangels and all the company of heaven.

Baby P must be the last child to see only a life of pain - life is beautiful and no other children should see otherwise. It's time we brought out the Samaritan in all of us and stop abuse now.

1 comment:

Cochonfucius said...

My French version of Kipling's poem:

Après le funèbre au-revoir,
Les vautours restent sur leur faim.
Les hyènes sages, sur le soir,
Viennent s'occuper du défunt.

Les faits de son heure dernière
N'ont pour elles aucune importance.
Leur museau pousse branches et pierres
Creusant toujours vers leur pitance.

Ce qu'elles veulent, c'est manger,
Que du groupe la force augmente.
En cadavre est moins de danger
Qu'en la moindre chose vivante.

(Cornes des boucs, dards des cloportes,
Même un enfant se bat parfois;
Un soldat, quand sa chair est morte,
Ne lève pas le petit doigt).

Glapissements dans la poussière.
Leurs blanches canines saisissent
Le mort par l'habit militaire,
Hors de la fosse elles le hissent.

Reparaît le pauvre visage
Un instant avant l'hallali.
Mais ne le voit nul personnage,
Seul Dieu et les démons salis

Qui de vergogne ou d'âme n'ont
Et mangent de toute charogne.
Hyènes ne tachent point le nom
Du mort : c'est humaine besogne.