SHEEP NATION

Ewe better Shine in '09 (TM) ...

St.Mark the obvious headline writer does it again ! ( see previous post from 2 weeks ago, 28/11/08).

...from my hi tek leggo Ceefax this very morning.

,,

pics c. MSt.M

Pics c. MStM
<clik to xpand >

As yet another dark, wet, coughing breath showing
numbing cold-as-it-gets-without-it-snowing...

.... miserable UK sheep yuletide encroaches and the economy heads in the general direction of malaise and meltdown... and on the very eve of that grand old British sheep shoppers' ( and I did say shoppers ) pick n' mix institution Woolworths - along with Mrs average houseproud town mouse's fave store of trendy beige, MFI - going into administration ( read f***ed, both ), here we have the Credit Crunch BitingTM as never before and announced on the evening newscasts as matter-of-factly as if it's merely a couple of drab little corner shops biting the dust in the remote fastnesses of outer Penge.

So a' flocking to good ol' Woolies the smart Xmas shopper sheep will doubtless be trotting... to eagerly graze those end-of-line stock clearance sale bargains, as the hapless institution faces the humiliation and irony of ironies of being potentially re-branded (ptp) as an "upmarket pound store" after itself having being sold off for a squid !

Bring us the dog heads of those Woolworths management wallies on plates... they couldn't manage the proverbial whelk stall, they couldn't run a bath - or a sheepwash for that matter. Hundreds of high street prime locations, a £47 million bank loan just last year... and they couldn't even break even.
As Derek from Trotters Global Trading Co would say; 'you utter... utter... PLONKERS! '

The collapse of EX L airlines and the stranding of thousands of sun-seeking sheep abroad, along with the fire in the Chunnel both combining with the worst summer on record highlights the uniquely perculiar plight of this sheep island.

The fact that we do indeed..... live sleep and graze, ON AN ISLAND.

On an island where the national flock is becoming increasingly trapped (penned).... and panic-stricken.

A familiar weather chart this summer, apt in every sense for a sheep nation going down the plughole.

The BBC, keeping the crap all chirpy cheerful under-the-wool carpet, as per usual.

... not only by the atrocious weather but by economic conditions. The first European country to go into recession, the value of Stirling dropping like a freshly bolted sheep in the slaughterhouse against the euro ( how long now 'til the Pound/Euro? )

Of course all this gloom is music to the floppy ears of top dog Gordon Frown... he can blame his dour performance totally on world economic conditions. The soaked flock is distracted and running every which way to escape economic events overtaking them, while Gordon laughs his way to the next election, the spineless Labour MPs as always looking after their own butts ( seats) first. The country can go to hell in a handcart.

And it looks like it will, with hardly a sodden bleat of protest in earshot.

M.St.M

" No one told me there'd be days like this" - Johnny Lennon.

Each day the tabloids compete for the most gloom-laden shout-headlines; whether it be oil, knife crime, MPs expenses, house prices, utility bills or immigration - all of a sudden the nation seems to have woken to the fact that's been staring us in the face for decades.
The country's being systematically raped and ransacked by the politliarsTM of both now near-identical persuasions.

Yet along with the gloom comes a new chink of hope, for in amongst the black despair, there's emerging a certain mood of rebellion amongst the national flock masses not seen since the poll tax protests under Thatcher bitch, a kind of "we won't take no more crap" mentality. We've seen the first stirrings this past week with the ram lorry drivers rubber stamping their well-articulated ways to London in a - for now at least - orderly protest convoy against the grand extortion that is the 70% fuel duty at the pickpocket PM Gordon Brown's stand-and-deliver pump pricesTM.

Yet when the unelected gutless jobsworth himself, along with his decidedly shifty-looking chancellor gate-crashed the meeting of oil company bosses in Scotland this week, it was still more about putting up appearances, spinning out a little more of the big lie, trying to con the public into again accepting gesture politics in the stead of concrete action. But no longer does this weave the Blairite spell, New Labour's well-worn cheap party tricks have become all too see-through.

Only last night on Newsnight, Brown's energy minister had the nerve to spew out the well-spun stat', that " The government doesn't earn any more by proportion when the price of petrol goes up". He repeated this ad nauseum like some vacuous Westminster mantra. Of course the key con trick spin words were "by proportion", counting on the viewers not to notice that 70% of £1.30 a litre is substantially MORE than 70% of 80p a litre ( 35p per litre more in Brown's coffers to be precise)

The electorate know well that if they hadn't both threatened to and actually given Gordon Brown a good thumping in the polls recently, no way would he have given the concession on the 10p tax, no way would he now be contriving to rescind the new forecourt tax proposals or the absurd 42 day detention without trial limit. The only language this man, or any politliar understands.... is fear of losing office.

Perhaps, in the end, this is the only way modern democracy can really give a voice to the people - by the electorate themselves gathering to protest in numbers enough ( Ian Thorp's "pitchfork revolution" ) to scare the living seat pants off the governing party's MP majority enough for them to pressure the PM to change or go.

Pity then, that it takes self preservation-motivated fear of the sack for the spineless Labour MP maggots to act to change policy, rather than the unparalleled tragedy of the nation being taken into a totally unjustified war - by a laughingly obvious conman PM - that has cost hundreds of thousands of lives, with oil tanker loads of innocent men women and children's' blood in the sand in a far flung desert land: when most of them simply sat on their hands in shameless indifference.

We surely all deserve better than this of our so-called leaders.

M St.M