Inspecting The Troops

The streets of the towns, villages, hamlets and assorted settlements of the lovely Kingdom of Northumbria are steadily filling up with myriads of tents, populated by starry-eyed children who've decided to protest against life, death, Moneylenders, money makers, work, hardworking families and those Sacred Cuts to Public Expenditure which are so beloved of the Tree/Liberationist Administration.

The sight of them in such numbers is wondrous to behold, as they suck their pacifiers, vacantly chewing on the all-familiar hallucinogenic fungi. The smell is another story.. Suffice it to say that on several occasions I had to stifle my gagging reflex. The sound from these gatherings is a deafening cacophony of drumbeats, chanting and slogans repeated endlessly.

The well-fed lackeys of the Soothsayers are all there to watch the fun; I hope they enjoy watching the steady decline in the temperature of broth, as it contains about an equivalent amount of mental stimulation. Still, I really shouldn't be hard on the kiddies; the cocktail of years of indoctrination by Beeby See, Guardy-Ann and Windy the Pedant, along with a constant diet of beansprouts and magic mushrooms has taken its toll upon their tender intellects, not to mention their perception of the world around them.

Nevertheless, it must be so gratifying for them to know that as they gather in their hordes to endure extreme discomfort in their tents on cold, wet and windy nights to protest against anything that moves, they have the unflagging support of the Global Warming High Priest His Holiness Archbishop Georges Moonbat and the ascetic prophetess and Guardy-Ann sleb pseudo-intellectual Parly Toywasp. They're telling the children in warm and encouraging tones what a wonderful job they're all doing to promote Justice and Fair Play. At least, until it's time for them to return to their opulent homes and warm feather beds. After all, the best generals always lead from the rear..