by Samuel Manoah Adams
You know, in 1691 or so William III got back from the Hague and told Parliament he would need loads of money to fight France some more, but this was not a hard sell as he had just run Jasper Deuce out of Ireland. The budget now was mainly in aid of projected naval costs and supplies. But then Parliament got its panties in a wad in a high dudgeon about the large number of favorites William of Orange had in the meantime given places in London, and began totting up the figures on its stubby little fingers. It was a dreadful downturn then, too, the prior Catholic monarchy had pissed away for years the entire Lewis Clitoris, er, Quatorze subsidy, and lots more besides. Now the City merchants had to watch a whole new crew of “placemen” (the seventeenth century equivalent of Public Liberals) cutting a wide swathe, and getting wider, as their own fortunes plummeted. Naturally, as they were not then the thieves, the members of Parliament arrived at a hotshit plan for “reform” and ruled that in future no servant of the Crown should be paid more than five hundred quids, if I am anticipating my Macaulay aright. And, of course this sham was foredoomed and hopeless and entirely God-damned from the outset, no man of talent would consent to work for derisory money scarce better than the pay of the guy who manned the front desk. It is experiences like this through the centuries since that have persuaded many a Parliament it is better to lay back and, indeed, just to lie low (if not out of both sides of their mouths) on this whole “reform” business. It is just like being in Congress. There is no gratitude in it, and there are fine manses to be had in the meantime. Since Parliament over three hundred years ago couldn’t reform the administration very successfully, we shall have to see what we shall see now as they try to clean up on themselves. Mostly it seems to be NuLabourSameoldSwill&CatShit MPs over there in England who are doing the worst stealing, for right now anyway. It’s a grand show and gets our minds off of all of the relentless God-damned robbery going on right under President Obama’s chin in DC today, by (ta,da!) the Cook County Democrat Machine. The thieving English MPs are a great distraction — just like Old Dick “Stroker” Cheney, bellyaching all this last week long like a poison pup, about how President Obama isn’t tough enough on his (Cheney’s) made-for-Tee Vee “terror” BS. The unconstitutional fraud from Wyoming is a classic example of one of these clucks from “way out West” who wears cowboy boots under his clothes and who still has an extremely overactive “Inner Woman.” Naturally, in order to prove he isn’t feminine or something like inside the back of his brain in there, everything Cheney has to say out front IS a crock of shit and a load of scared-spitless projections — but meanwhile it keeps “folks” from realizing that that the Obama administration’s present policy on the terror hoax is just late-Bushitism warmed over. Vice-President Cheney, God bless him ANYWAY, lost this argument in 2004 or so and is now being fielded as a kind of staked goat to fool any left over tigers he didn’t accidentally shoot in the ass before. The man is not worthy of any more respect or attention than, say, Ann Clinton or Bill Coulter — or the skunks over there stealing away to beat Hell in London. Period.
[Bodwyn Wook all transcription- & channelling-rights reserved 20 May 2009]