Defeat of Strength

As the whirling storms wreak their havoc and customary desolation on the habitations of the as yet undiscovered land of Ultima Thule, other climatic phenomena bombard the shores of the lovely Kingdom of Northumbria. The common factors between these peculiar climatic phenomena seem to be immense quantities of wind, wet and heat, which unite in fiendish concord to stir up ordure of varying degrees of freshness and spread it liberally around. That's Redistributionism for you, folks.

Yesterday, the disreputable and dishonourable members of the Witangemot cast their votes with regard to an issue that is dear to the heart of many a politico: the subsidy demanded from our noble Realm for the coffers of the Holy Roman Empire (which is as holy as Beelzebub's bottom, as Roman as a camel's droppings, and nothing like an empire). Ever since the politicos decided seventeen thousand years ago to commit the Kingdom to the loving stranglehold of the Infernal Empire under the theatrical pretence that the arrangement was one of mutual help, culture, trade and biscuit, the relationship has proved itself to be one of subordinate to psychotic taskmaster rather than small friend to big friend. This has evidenced itself in the amount of protection money demanded by the Evil Federation from the Kingdom to guarantee the fluffy comfort and security of not being invaded. (The Vikings have also successfully pulled that stunt, and under the grand titles of Danegeld and Danelaw have managed to continuously con a lot of Holy Groats from the other Anglo-Saxon kingdoms. Good game.)

Since the hard-pressed Northumbrians have very few Holy Groats or even pennies to rub together, there's understandably a lot of resentment towards Emperor Jose Borracho, his half-baked henchman Hermit the Rumphole and the thousands of political drones on the other side of the North Sea and the Channel who are living high off the hog. Furthermore, the guarantee that Northumbria would never be invaded has appeared to be a false promise, since myriads of clothes peg sellers, tinkers, layabouts and professional riff-raff with bizarre languages, diet, personal habits and religious propensities have filtered their way into the Realm to derive considerable benefit from living in readily available housing and having the free facilities of the Northumbrian Herbalist Service. Fair enough.

Since many politicos have realised that their future tenure depends on the good will of their constituents, the majority of them have voted with the Redistributionists against Caedmeron and have put their political careers on the line. The result of this is that the Tree/Liberationist Alliance Administration was soundly defeated. This Cat even heard rumours that Caedmeron voted against himself. He's daft enough. But to be sure, it'll be business as usual as the coffers continue to fill..