Friday 16 March 2012

Down Wiv Da Yoof and Moneylenders

While Caedmeron has been travelling afar, posturing, pouting, pontificating and feeling the love of mellifluous tribal chieftain Bugrake O'Barmy and his cohorts in the as yet undiscovered land of Ultima Thule, new astonishing political developments have been unfolding here in the lovely Kingdom of Northumbria. Feaxede the Fox and I listened with enraptured anticipation to the soothsayers' announcement.

What I'm about to divulge constitutes a shot across the bows to the yoof of the lovely Kingdom of Northumbria - particularly those of a Chavvostani persuasion, whose principal industry - in the years following their imaginary Redistributionist-inspired education - is to idly and luxuriously draw on the lavish benefits of the Northumbrian public purse, devour hedgehog sausages (sans salad), masticate magic mushrooms, drink copious volumes of ale and mead, and of course, assiduously avoid every appearance of legitimate industry. For no other requirement but to be unemployed. Innit.

If you, dear reader, are a yoof, like, please sit down before reading on. If you're already seated or supine, (which is the more likely scenario), remain in your present posture, for what I'm about to disclose is quite disturbing, and potentially deeply distressing. But never mind.

Today, Edweird the Milliner- the Beloved Leader, Daystar and Bright Shining Light of the Redistributionist Faction, and head of King Alhfrith's Loyal Opposition - has come up with a Great Plan in the event of the unlikelihood of his assuming Caedmeron's mantle as Administration Supremo. Dream on, Eddy Boy - and keep on chewing the fungi. (Don't swallow it, though - it'll make you sick, and then something sensible and meaningful might for once proceed from your mouth.)

Eddy has announced that in the next Redistributionist Government - which is scheduled to assume absolute power and total control anytime in the next fifty billion years - that he's going to raise lots of Holy Groats for the benefit of the yoof. To provide them with.. Work.

Naturally, the employment that will be provided for the aspirationally and intellectually challenged Anglo-Saxon adolescents won't be genuine sweat-of-the-brow graft; such tedium is reserved for the legions of Slavs, Bulgars, Moors, Bactrians and members of myriads of other exotic tribal groups, who, having gently invaded these islands - with the blessing of the Northumbrian government - have made an honest living for themselves and their families by taking on employment in occupations regarded by indigenous children as infra dignatem.

For half an hour each day in Eddy's fantasy land, every unoccupied child will be able to perform roles for the benefit of the Kingdom - and the Glorious Redistributionist Cause. They will be paid handsomely for the privilege. There will be legions of trainee cat license administrators, apprentice pigeon psychologists, assistant fish quota accountants and deputy diversity coordinators. I can't wait.

And who is going to pay for this? Eddy has said that the Moneylenders - the evil overlords who make vast profits out of loans to weak-minded and gullible politicos and governments - will pay additional tax out of their bounteous treasuries.

What Eddy hasn't realised is that the Groat Shufflers will soon lose interest - and when that happens, they'll soon take their businesses to other lands where they'll be made welcome. In such an event, who's then going to pick up the tab for these non-jobs? The entire Kingdom will be reduced to penury..

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