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"Regarding the terrorist bomb attacks: seeing as those murderous lunatics have no compunction in taking their own lives along with the lives of the citizens of this country in the pursuit of their twisted ideology, I am sure none of us would mind reinstating the death penalty and reserving it for these disgusting thugs" Thanks to D Turner, who tells the Arab doctors where to hang in a textletter headlined EXECUTE BOMBERS (for wasting a perfectly good SUV). The London paper published this.

Whirled exclusive Written by Tony Ticker    Friday, 30 November 2007 ******This just in from Sly Spores Noose******* Chelsea playmaker Frank Lampard woke up successfully this morning, describing the day ahead as 'potentially massive'. 'We know the big teams have their own mornings, but what we have to do is concentrate on our AM,' citing Ivorian hitman Didier Drogba's scrambling of eggs as 'crucial' in the build-up to breakfast. 'Manchester have their own croissants, Liverpool too. And you can't discount Arsenal's rice crispies. But we have to show the whisk what we're all about. If we keep eating our own toast, we'll be in with a shout come lunchtime.' Petr Cech was back to light scoffing after nicking himself with a butter knife in early preparations. It has also been revealed that on the 12th of August 1996, Frank Lampard Snr slipped on a discarded leaflet outside the Brentford Argos. His son recalled how he was vexed for nine minutes. The ex-West Ham full-back then smacked the leaflet away in his vex and it deflected into the Argos entrance via six passers-by. Analysts called it "vintage Lamps", and Sky will have a two-hour special on the seminal incident with quotes from Ricky Hatton, Frankie Dettori and the Argos store manager at the time, Steve Hapsie. Stay spooned. Managism in crisis Written by Special Report    Thursday, 29 November 2007 "I've just had a meeting about professional regulation and then I'm going to have another meeting about unprofessional meetings. Then it's over to committee room 3.6 for a meeting entitled 'Proselytising: the Hain explains the way' and rounding the day off with a low key-huddle at 68 Collapsed Mews about the rate of immigration into number 27. This would seem to signal a homeward move but not before an open epilogue on Gavin Funding in Scotland. All this will be microscopically assessed and rated, so that's all for now then guys then." Internal memoid from John Sarrismund, Foam Master, Simpleyshire Managers are in crisis. Become a managerialist and you approve a performance-based review for your own alienation from use value. This will become clear to your former colleagues but never to you, as you wade through a miasma of initiatives, proposals and other half-baked schemes that never could be commuted to a proper project, and become mired in bureaucratic procedure. There has never been a better time to subvert expectations away from a role that you think you are entitled to after a certain amount of aging, increased experience and ‘putting in the hours' (itself an indicator of managism's structural weakness).   Evidence of its decline is plentiful. Billy Daives is sacked as Derby manager because he wasn't doing his job. How could he when he had up to eight line managers doing varying stuff with variable levels of efficiency? (he was surely also sacked because he used the tautologous term 'cash investment' three times in his last post-match MOTD comments.) Then there was HRMC's data blunder not being attributable to junior members of staff but to 'higher levels up the food chain' who were not doing the level of data profiling that the National Audit Office received pre-customs & revenue merger (and cutting many other corners too). The Geordie donations revelations were further grist to the mill - too many layers for anyone to definitively know the line, and no-one able to free themselves to definitively issue the line (whether it would comply with the regs or not). Brown can't extricate himself as in this extremely joined-up globalised environment of modern politics transparency is a mantra but impossible to achieve. "We have got to raise our game. We have become too lazy. We are not political enough. It is too easy to become managers," one cabinet minister told The Observer. Read more...

Open for business Written by Clandestino    Wednesday, 28 November 2007 read more at http://coitinuous.blogspot.com, possibly Being Gerrald Nicksen isn't easy. Working long hours, playing even longer. 24 hours, seven days, 52 weeks - it's never enough. Naturally, I am uploading this to my blog via the Blackberry on the short ride from the Wharf to the flat in Bethnal. No pushing for the burn at the gym for the rest of this week either, I can free up no other time. The trading floor at Surety Management is on climax alert, wondering if one of us can be the first to persuade someone running scared on the buyside to take oil at $100 a barrel, when not one of the fundamentals support it (unless you live on the Arabian Gulf). Yeah it's fun, but I prefer to see the caper drawn out, keep the scam going. We're quids in at the moment, commodities is the place to be, away from the subprime glare and still on the bonus stream. Let the big banks take the flak higher up and in the other towers, while I embark on one long Christmas binge. My gated entrance is going to be a revolving door for enlightened perverts. What my colleagues don't know - well I am pretty sure they don't know - is that I come in most days dressed in fully-fashioned stockings and 12-strap suspender belt but under my carefully selected Saville Row uniform. It's one hell of a thrill when the Brit guys start talking their macho shit - Chelsea this, Arsenal that - and they're sitting next to a real dirty cross-dressing deviant! That's how they they breed us in South Dakota, my daddie used to say. The time to get suggestive is if I am working late with one or two, not a whole bukake batch. The aggressive types are what do it for me and we got plenty here - shouting the odds at me with a hard-on that they can't understand. One or two have got involved back at my apartment, but they're inexperienced, not knowing the difference between a pussy and a sissy before making their pathetic excuses about it getting ‘too weird' and leaving. At West India Quay on Friday night, when they've snorted their shit or dropped a pill, had a gutful of lager and groped a slut I'm only just getting started. And no doubt there will be one or two of those Essex girls in the mix - they're up for anything. Last Updated ( Thursday, 29 November 2007 ) Read more... Whole hole Written by Muram    Wednesday, 07 November 2007 "The Middle East is only shared by world's political formations in decay and through a degenerative whole where no formative power can be effectively perpetuated" With oil at $100 a barrel or thereabouts, Arab leaders flush with petrodollars have even less reason to find a politics relevant to their region. Reza drills down into the infinite whole of the Middle East political landscape in Poromechanics, the first of three pieces about the Middle East necropolis. Last Updated ( Monday, 12 November 2007 ) Quick wins and co Written by Mr Offset    Friday, 02 November 2007 Click here for more info on how to book your place. Remember the lapel badge! Last Updated ( Saturday, 03 November 2007 ) Beguiling travels: vol II Written by Nessa    Friday, 02 November 2007 Second of Ness' SE Asia travelogues - focusing on Laos and Cambodia Here in Laos, it's like falling in love everyday, with every place. Just spent a couple of weeks working in an organic farm in the north, spending the mornings doing hard farm work, the afternoons floating down the river in a tube, stopping to drink in makeshift bamboo bars and the evenings teaching and lurking in dimly lit opium dens. It's set in beautiful Karst mountains, with glorious sunsets and multitudes of butterflies. We've been working with various hill tribe villagers who've set up a school and community centre. In return for me teaching English, I've been taught some Lao dance moves. They were trying to get me to give hip-hop stylee dance lessons, which I refused utterly to do. I was persuaded to go forth to do some gardening after being convinced that I wouldn't see any snakes. This was obvious bollocks, as I saw my first deadly poisonous one within five minutes. Following this, we took the slow boat up the Mekong, with various tradesmen, and fat tourists, craning their necks to get their ethno-porn National Geographic style photos of naked boys sliding around in the muddy banks; turning their backs again by the time the boys had run for their clothes in embarrassment. We had got to Laos on a bus laden with contraband, crossing the mountains of North Vietnam and Laos on boxes of Vietnamese TVs, using knock-off designer trousers as cushions. We briefly took stock of things at Vientiane, the tiny capital, stock full of US and European NGOs in important looking Chelsea tractors and fine French restaurants. The highlight of staying in Vietnam was going up to the mountains at the Chinese border, and going mountain climbing, grappling with going up muddy waterfalls using bamboo to haul ourselves up. It's very obvious the extent that we were in the "Golden Triangle", and for that matter, moving through some communities with very different lives to those in lowland SE Asia. Indeed, some of the tribes are still fighting insurgencies against the Communists. Not sure if they still get their guns from the CIA though. Most of the tribes try to live outside the state boundaries, and are clearly still very much involved in heroin and cannabis production. Their existence is sold to tourists through "treks", where you can see people living "traditional" lifestyles. In Thailand, they market this endearingly by concise descriptions of the tribes: "Big Ears", or "Long Necks"- the Karen tribe, who are actually current refugees from Burma, posing in a staged traditional village, like a kind of Ethno-Disneyland. Last Updated ( Saturday, 03 November 2007 ) Read more...

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