Saturday, 7 November 2009

Come on, You Guys!

The other night, with much pyrotechnical wizardry, the Island of the Mighty and various of its associated shores celebrated Guy Fawkes Night - the anniversary of the ardently Catholic Mr Fawkes’ unsuccessful bid to blow up the Protestant King James I and his Parliament with lots of luvverly gunpowder.

As the shadow of the Spanish Inquisition has dwindled, and that of the British Tin Hitlers grown long, there has come a gradual change in popular sympathies. We still burn the old villain in effigy, or at least we do when Nanny doesn’t ban it. But judging by the jokes I see in every newsrag and hear in every pub, many of us are starting to entertain a sneaking suspicion that he was mainly to blame in being born four hundred years too soon.

Now I am not, PAY ATTENTION AT THE BACK MR SECRET POLICEMAN OVER THERE!, seriously suggesting that it would be a good idea for anybody to blow up the assembled Proud Pri Honourable Members of the United Kingdom Parliament with big explody bombs. The idea stinks, with brown sauce, on burnt toast. The world is sufficiently supplied with mass-murdering rat bastards already, and a recruitment freeze is long overdue. Still less do I wish any harm upon our mostly harmless and ornamental Monarch. But so long and so gallantly have her ministers and their trough-guzzling, arse-spelunking hordes of lobby-fodder striven to rid themselves of any taint of popular affection or even consent, that her Government’s traditional Public Exploder may be winning the battle for hearts and minds at last.

Soon may come a night when hot-blooded mobs descend upon bonfires throughout the nation, seizing the Guy from his peril and bearing him shoulder-high through the streets. Then let our leaders take warning, instead of what they are taking at the moment!

Actually, that is probably the best single idea for a political protest I have ever had. I’d certainly be up for it! Or to make it a game everybody could play, how about a nice democratic showdown with those who wished to haul Guy off to his doom? Hey, Mr Speaker! Betcha the rescue party would win, if we held it any time soon. Nyah nyah na na nyah!

This episode cannot conclude without a mighty salute to our age's very own and very much alive Guido Fawkes, whose merciless exposés of Parliamentary trough-guzzling did so much to detonate this year’s great expenses scandal. The Gadarene rush to an early and swill-filled retirement has not yet abated. That's what I call good value for a penny!

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