At the End of the Day

mesmile We are in playful mood tonight. At the end of a day filled with interminable nonsense, the only alternative to such an approach is buck-naked insanity. First up, I wonder if you, like me, have blackboards covered in scribbles and/or fridges upon which notes are captured by naff magnets. If so, you will know that not a great deal of literary thought goes into these various admonitions and reminders.

Regarding the blackboard, for example, I notice that I am in need of garlic dishwasher tablets, gaseous orders and the taxation of Sarah. I must also chase Bosch on flight booking progress and hedge wood dating, while not forgetting navarin of lamb tiles on the external window-sills. As for the magnet messages, I need above all to ring an Angela I can’t recall and buy the new album by Yellow Fats Risotto.

Look, know what it means, but Christ only knows what a casually passing Jungian shrink would make of it all. As for shrinking things, there are few people I would like to shrink more than Owen Jones, a man whose conclusion-leaping goes beyond classically Leftist bollocks and far on into that time when it must surely become the next new Olympic sport:


Oh dear. Well bach, by the end of 2011 the austerity child was but 18 months old, and a casual visit to the ONS data series going back to 1997 might suggest that any early deaths had more to do with Things can Only get Better Brownite private pension raids, PSI write-offs in the NHS and bipartisan embezzling of 1950s born female State pensions. But perish the thought that anything empirical might get in the way of what your answer must be.

I wonder now what Owen’s fridge magnet notes are like. Do they remind him to Smash Nazi-Lite Farage battalions by next Thursday, join League to have Peter Tatchell Deified, buy ticket to Female Genital Mutilation Anti-Islamophobia Fair, and not forget to make personal appearance at the launch of Sexual Orientation Alphabetti Soup Range from MomentoCorby Foods plc?

Late news brings sad tidings of the demise of two stalwarts from the days of Carry On double-entendres,  Liz Frazer and Fanella Fielding. Frazer was a veteran of Hancock TV shows and Boulting Brothers classics, while Fielding played an ironic vamp character somewhere between Kate Bush and Eleanor Bron. They have gone beyond the material fringe to elsewhere, the nature of which is as yet unknown to us.

And finally, Islamist hate preacher Anjem Choudary will be released from jail during October – despite the fact that UK prisons minister Rory Stewart shared with journalists his belief that Mr Choudary is “a deeply pernicious, destabilising influence, a genuinely dangerous person”. But in the best traditions of British tolerance and fear of losing arms contracts with Saudi Arabia, Anjem will soon be free to perform in his celebrated everyday story of beheading infidel folk, complete with full supporting cast. The Left will delight in this enlightened decision, while insisting that Nigel Farage murdered Jo Cox.

The term cognitive dissonance is no longer fit for purpose as a description of the LibLeft on both sides of the Atlantic. I close tonight by suggesting antithetical unthinking temerity as the successor. Alternatives in a comment thread please.