Wednesday, 20 February 2008

Blog temporarily suspended

It pains me but The Daily Brute, much like Newmania, is officially now a non-blog.

I don't have the time – and crucially I am also not sure I have the desire – to keep blogging.

Still, if inspiration and means strike again, I may yet be back to torment and illuminate.

Rest assured that, should I burst back into your lives again, the Bottler will remain in my sights.

I'd also quite like to be around to pronounce a final word or two on his inevitable demise.

But for the moment ... well, that's it.

Au revoir.

Monday, 18 February 2008

Where's Gordo?

Will the Bottler, our greatest-ever chancellor, now make any comment on the nationalisation of Northern Rock?

Here's a prediction.


Incidentally, I wonder what he would have to say to what Anatole Kaletsky in The Times calls a financial and political disaster of almost unimaginable proportions?

Friday, 15 February 2008

Je reviens!

Yup, here we go again!

Cue trumpets, cue drum roll! Cue spotlights, expectation and sudden intake of breath all round. Cue, in fact, amazement.

The Daily Brute is back!

Well, sort of.

I know I have been missing of late. Oh! Where were those instant, cruel lacerations of the Bottler and his government of none of the talents? Where were those incisive highlights of his and their utter ineptitude? Where were those piercing insights into his and their hopeless failings? Where, more particularly, were those unanswerably withering responses to Ed Balls's clunking attempts to position himself as the natural successor to El Gordo (Ha! Ha! and Ha! again)? Where were the Brute's compelling exposures of Gordo's preposterous claims of 10 years of growth-full-employment-lowest-ever-inflation-unprecendented-record-of-economic-success?

Where, in short, was the Daily Brute's daily scorning, always justified, of Gordo's weird, scarcely human, always hesitant, never convincing, pretend attempt to be prime minister (a job that can always be yours if you huff and puff enough and stamp your feet while sulking and threatening to burst into tears at any minute – provided you don't have to worry about being voted in of course – or take the blame if it all goes wrong)?

Good questions.

Well, the Brute been working (however shockingly badly paid). Meaning busy. But he has also been thinking. Thinking that there can surely never have been any government this inept. That, whatever the pleasure of seeing Gordo and his grisly gang run out of office (as they undoubtably will be), the price we will all pay – a ruined economy, schools incapable of imparting even basic knowledge, hospitals that cost billions and cure no one, a transport system buggered in every sense, councils grown mad on self importance, an army left defenceless and demoralised, and, worst of all, 300 years of painfully won national sovereignty willfully handed over to a group of unelected pen pushers and bullies in Brussels in direct defiance of an explicit manifesto promise – will be horrifying high.

It is a seriously grim prospect.

The only consolation – and it will be meagre – will be the Bottler attempting, ridiculously, to justify himself.

That might make me laugh.

Not much else will.