(Image courtesy of Schmoo.)

‘Harrison Ford famously improvised his “I know” line in Empire Strikes Back. Here are a few of his less successful ad-libs‘…

This is a new one on me. Did you know that ‘professing to belong to a proscribed organisation’ is a criminal offence?

I only found out when I read about those blokes who’ve been supposedly plotting to kill Gordon Brown and Tony Blair:

Ishaq Kanmi, of Cromwell Street, faces additional charges of belonging or professing to belong to al Qaeda, inviting support for al Qaeda, and dissemination of terrorist publications.

(If this plot to do in Brown and Blair doesn’t turn out to be one of those sad-sacks-fantasising-in-a-pub type plots, like the one to kidnap Leo Blair, I’ll eat this blog.)

Professing to belong to a proscribed organisation? As far as I can see, and as much as you would expect it to be, this law isn’t a recent introduction into the swirling maelstrom of cack-handed chaos that’s characterised British anti-terror legislation since 2001. Apparently, it was introduced in the 70s when the IRA were all the rage.

Still, it’s a blow for fantasists, schizophrenics and brown-skinned blokes just having a joke in the pub. I bet former members of the Gary Glitter fan club are cacking themselves as well.

Update: The measure was in effect as far back as 1974 in Part I of the Prevention of Terrorism (Temporary Provisons) Act 1974.

Is Julie Moult an idiot? - Number 2 with a bullet - click to enlarge

And that, Julie Moult, is how it’s done.

Right here. Prepare yourself.

Jamie asks the question:

Lady Thatcher’s symptoms, as described by her daughter, are just as consistent with neurological damage caused by tertiary syphilis as with dementia: personality changes, memory loss, minor strokes and so on. The megalomania and grandiloquence noted by many in the later stages of her rule are also consistent with the later stages of the disease.

There’s every bit as much justification for putting this about as there is in spreading rumours about Brown’s mental state.

Fair’s fair.

There’s a nuclear reactor being built at Flamanville in France that, despite being under construction for only nine months, is already nine months behind schedule. How does that work then?

Grant Wilkinson is, to be frank, an utter tool. Wilkinson was the arse who found himself with the equipment to convert replica MAC-10 machines guns into fully-functioning versions.

Finding himself in this position and with a brace of machine pistols, what did said tool do? He sold the guns to assorted gangbangers, petty crooks, and assorted underworld knobs.

Now, it’s clear that Wilkinson has the entrepreneurial urge that we prize so highly and above all other qualities in this country. What he lacked, fatally, was ambition. On such things do people’s lives turn. What he did was sell the guns to spotty inadequates in tracksuits in the criminal underworld, who then went out and shot people with them. What he should have done was sell the guns to spotty inadequates in suits in the government, who would then have given the guns to other people to do the shooting for them.

Instead of finding himself on the rough end of a stiff prison sentence, Wilkinson would have been feted as a captain of industry, able to hold the government to ransom, like the head of BAE.

(Holding government ministers to ransom with a gun would of course earn you two to the head and one to the chest from the SAS. Holding them to ransom with threats of making thousands of people unemployed is merely good business.)

If only. Wilkinson would have had a succession of government ministers queuing up to plant loving kisses on his behind. Unfortunately, in prison, those kisses aren’t so affectionate or planted with such care and devotion or permission.

Is Julie Moult an idiot? That’s the question concerned bloggers are asking today after Daily Mail ‘journalist’ Julie Moult wrongly accused the mighty Beau Bo d’Or of ‘googlebombing’ (without understanding in the slightest what ‘googlebombs’ are or how they work despite, and this is the kicker, having it explained to her by people from Google). This isn’t the first time Julie Moult has let the facts get in the way of a story, as Tim points out.

As a kindly way of showing Julie Moult just how Google actually works, it was Tim’s idea to put himself and others in the top ten Google results for ‘Julie Moult’ and to demonstrate how quickly it can be done. Hopefully soon, this blog post will rank highly for searches for ‘Julie Moult’. The image at the top should eventually feature in the Google Image searches for ‘Julie Moult’.

If you’d like to join the fun, just follow Tim’s simple instruction…

Step One - Create an image featuring the words “Julie Moult is an idiot” (or “Julie Moult is not an idiot, but instead a much-misunderstood campaigner for truth and a very nice person once you get to know her”).

Step Two - Include the words ‘julie’ and ‘moult’ in the filename for your image.

Step Three - Publish it on your website or weblog in a post explaining what it is and why it’s there (including, if you like, these steps and a link back to this article).

Step Four (optional) - If you really mean business, put her name in your article title and maybe even drop in some ‘ALT’ or ‘Title’ goodness for your image.

:: Please keep in mind that Julie Moult might be willing and able to sue you if she can prove that she isn’t an idiot (though I’m quietly confident that this won’t be a problem).

:: You may also wish to include a picture/glimpse of yourself in your image so Julie is certain that real people, not invisible Google pixies, lurk behind the eventual results.

Notable search results will be posted [on Tim's blog] as soon as they start appearing, and a prize will be awarded for the best relevant performance in Google Images (not including mine).

Good luck to you all. I hope to see you in the top row soon.

It is time to bring the question out into the open: is Guido Fawkes of sane mind?

Going right back to the White charge that he “looks a bit of a prat” this question has periodically arisen. Whereas in the past people made a joke of it, now the issue is becoming a genuine concern. Bloggers discuss it semi-openly and political journalists report evidence of hysterical rants, the rages, the odd behaviour, the drink-driving. The question comes up in private conversations all the time. Justin has heard it seriously suggested that Guido suffers from “functioning alcoholism”.

It is becoming harder to cover it up whatever it is - some blog posts border on totally loony - the repetitive mantras, the obsession with male homosexuality, the uncorrelated bizarre facts, the juvenile bragging about what he got up to last night, the complete inability to empathise.

It is low politics to hurl cheap abuse at opponents, but this is not borne of malice towards Guido, Justin feels like the boy who pointed at the fat bastard and said what everyone was too embarrassed to say. The head of British blogging is clearly at the very least drunk and unable to function under the pressure. The worst is frightening to contemplate, for his blog and the planet…

Via Mr E:

Harry’s Place may be removed (or rather have it’s DNS disabled) after a ‘complaint’ to the company that our domain name is registered with.

We assume after threats were made on the weekend that this ‘complaint’ originates from Jenna Delich or her supporters.

Though we have not yet seen the complaint submitted, we assume it runs along the lines that pointing out that Ms Delich linked to the website of a known neo-Nazi figure and former Ku Klux Klan leader is defamatory.

This is extraordinary since Ms Delich has not denied that she circulated links to David Dukes website. There would be no point since the evidence is in the public domain.

Nevertheless, a malicious complaint has been made to the company hosting our DNS.

I can’t stand Harry’s Place but censors and those who run screaming for their lawyers at the drop of a hat are to be resisted at every turn. It can happen to any blogger.

Why is it that those who preach the supremacy of the white race are always the worst adverts for it? Fat Nick Griffin with his wonky eye and neckless troglodyte hangers-on, for example. This tit. You can see why they’d feel superior, can’t you?

I mean, take a look at the dicks who ‘tried’ to have a crack at Barack Obama.

The Master Race? Ooh, you look it, lads. That’s Gollum on the right, isn’t it?

That meme’s caught up with me, like a virulent strain of clap. Cheers to Dave Cole for passing it on.

Without further, when I heard about…

Princess Diana’s death in 31st August 1997… me and my other half were staying with friends and rose late after a heavy night. There was a documentary on the telly about Princess Diana. We laughed at her clothes and her stupid, simpering ways. Then the documentary ended and a news reader said she was dead. The shame was momentary and then I think we probably went to the pub. Looking back I can’t see what all the fuss was about. I couldn’t at the time to be frank.

(The same day, The Verve went to number one with The Drugs Don’t Work. Looking back I can’t see what all the fuss was about.)

Margaret Thatcher’s Resignation - 22nd November 1990… I was in my second year at Poly. We watched her crying on the steps of Downing Street on the telly and laughed like hyenas. I think drinking and the playing of a certain Elvis Costello song were probably involved later on.

Attack on the twin towers - 11 September 2001… I was at home surfing the Internet. I think it was on the now defunct Warren Ellis Forum that somebody said a plane had hit one of the towers. At that point it was thought to be an accident and a light aircraft. I went down the hall and turned on the news. I hardly moved for the next ten hours.

England’s World Cup Semi Final against Germany - 4 July 1990… At my Auntie and Uncle’s house. I remember David Platt’s goal against Belgium more clearly. There was more laughing and dancing about involved.

President Kennedy’s Assassination - 22 November 1963… Ahem. I’m afraid the files are sealed until 2029, get me? Don’t ask again, ok?

(As The Meme-Slayer, I’m slaying this meme. It’s rubbish - I only did it because Dave asked.)

Our favourite merchants of hot death have fired a depleted uranium-tipped warning shot in the direction of the government:

The head of defence giant BAE Systems has said the company could consider leaving the UK if military spending ever fell below a “reasonable level”.

[...]

But he said he feared the government was “not giving the priority to defence that is needed” - something which could lead to Britain losing its “say in the world” and to BAE having to consider its future

Why he didn’t just give us a rendition of ‘Stay With Me‘ by the Faces is a mystery. The sentiment is identical. In the morning, don’t say you love me, ’cause I’ll only kick you out of the door. Who knew arms dealer could be so cold?

It’s the ’say in the world’ bit I like best. How nice that BAE are mindful of the way diplomacy is conducted in this day and age. The thing is, the way BAE like us to have our say in the world is too much like Robert De Niro in The Untouchables: ‘You can get further with a kind word and a gun than you can with just a kind word.’

It’s all rather ironic really. New Labour have traded virtually every scrap of its principles and dignity for BAE, turning all manner of depraved tricks like a tuppenny doxie in order to keep them sweet and safeguard British jobs (what with call centres not being for the likes of arms workers, unlike miners, dockers and steel workers).

And yet here’s the object of their affections saying all that might not be good enough and suggesting they might have to pull the plug on those jobs themselves. Sooner or later New Labour are going to realise the likes of BAE can’t be bought, only rented. As Gordon packs his bags, maybe he’ll realise that all those grunting bunk-ups his party had with all those fat businessmen in suits wasn’t love like they said.

They’re already leering at a nice new piece of arse - the chubby, posh one.

I think you’ll find they do…

As Septicisle says, this is quite possibly the greatest thing ever:

Damn those ‘out of control’ ‘far left political groups’ and their cursing!

And won’t somebody please send the directors at Fox News a copy of this. They look like idiots.

Like Boris Johnson and Downing Street, I too am ‘deeply disturbed’ that a picture of a murderer has been used to promote the 2012 Olympics.

I ask you, who the Hell thought it would be a good idea to include Tony Blair in there? The use of this image is in extremely poor taste and it should not have been used to promote London.

I’m with Anne Widdicombe when she says that it’s ‘extraordinary that if we’re trying to promote Britain, we should do so with an image of a mass child murderer’.

These people make me sick…

Elderly people are going hungry in hospital because staff fail to ensure they are fed, a charity has said.

What is it about old people anyway? ‘Wah, I’m hungry!’ The whining, ungrateful sods should have learned to do a bit of running and jumping about. Then they’d be on a gold jumbo jet quaffing ‘extra’ champagne and gorging on steak and mushroom pie with parsley mash, fillet of beef with lyonnaise potatoes or baked cod with a herb and lobster sauce. Instead, they’re lying in their beds malnourished and terrified they’re going to die a slow death. Who’s fault is that?

Some people just won’t help themselves.

Heard the one about Barack Obama’s running mate having a nuke built and then smuggled into the Senate?

Er, no they weren’t. The Mail says so itself in the same article:

The £20,000 – donated between 1999 and 2002 – went to Leeds Community School in Beeston.

Still, it’ll give tossers an urban myth to trot out come the next Children in Need.

The government has responded to the petition calling for Iraqi interpreters and employees who worked for the British to be allowed to come and live in the UK.

Frankly and depressingly, it’s pretty much the same tight-lipped misanthropy we’ve come to expect throughout this whole tawdry affair. No detail, no specifics, and nothing new. What they say here was dissected months ago by me here, the tireless Dan Hardie, and many others.

So, a man releases his dead friend’s art pamphlets into the wild to be discovered by the next generation.

It only happened to me once, discovering a grumble mag in the undergrowth, that is. I must have been ten or eleven, maybe, on the way home from school. She’d kept her socks on. It was a blood-thumping, head-spinning, heat-raising experience. Just the once.

Thinking about it gives me a warm rush of nostalgia.

(In my heart, perverts. In my heart.)

(Via Jamie)

Gordon Brown vowed to bring back competitive elections in politics today, saying it had been wrong to discourage politicians from competing against each other.

The prime minister promised to extend the range of policies available to voters and revealed that a taskforce of the country’s female political champions would be set up to inspire more girls to participate.

“We want to encourage competitive elections in politics, not the ‘medals for Gordon’ culture we have seen in previous years,” he said. “It was wrong because it doesn’t work. In politics you get better by challenging yourself against other people. A lot of politics are team games where people have to work together but they play against other teams.”

Brown said the government had now begun to “correct the tragic mistake of reducing the competitive element in politics”.

(With apologies)

Oh, Sweet Jesus. Anybody else in need of a a hand transplant after watching the British ‘presentation’ in Beijing? I gnawed my fist clean off.

We really did outdo ourselves. What could be more British than a queue? That’s the message to send to the people you want to come to London and unload their wallets, no? Umbrellas? Yes, remind them it pisses down all the time, why don’t you?

What else? Ah, yes, the unerring eye for stereotypes. The singer successful only through the patronage of a cultural vandal. The multimillionaire footballer who plies his trade in America.

(And forgive me, but where were the extra-London stereotypes in this circus? According to the dangerously over-optimistic and self-deceiving Tessa Jowell the 2012 Olympics are for the ‘whole country‘, not just London. She was peddling this fiction as late as this week. Where were the morris dancers, the kilts and haggis, the sunburnt, knobbly-kneed holidaymaker in his vest and knotted hankie? I missed the Bacardi Breezered-up harridan ralphing into a gutter as well.)

What about the all-too-British over-enthusiastic amateurism as embodied by the Legz Akimbo-esque dance troop? It’s the quality we thought so charming when a gambolling New Labour introduced it in 1997. That was before they raised it to the terrible, twisted artform that left us neck-deep in the shit we find ourselves in today.

(Boris Johnson unable to control the flag while looking like he’d slept in his clothes was just the peanut in the poo.)

But the most, most, most British thing of all in the whole thing - by a long, long, long way - comes at the 3 minute 40 mark in the BBC video - a privileged child strolling to where they want to be across the bent backs of the people. Perfect. I had a tear in my eye.

(The ‘handover’ ‘party’ at Buckingham Palace sounds like it was a cracker as well.)

When MP John MacDougall died, Gordon Brown gave a eulogy at the funeral…

And we are here today because we have lost in John a tireless fighter for social justice, we have lost an endlessly loyal champion of decent values…

Could Brown say the same about himself? Bollocks could he:

John MacDougall, the former MP for Glenrothes, launched a court action against the Ministry of Defence (MoD) last November after the Government turned down his request for a £300,000 payout. Mr MacDougall believed his lung cancer was contracted as a result of working at the Royal Naval dockyards in Rosyth in the 1960s and 1970s when he was exposed to asbestos

Only in New Labour can you write a man’s eulogy with one hand while making his last, hard days even harder with the other. As it has been and always will be under this lot, misery is tribute just as bombs bring peace.

The hypocrisy on display on Brown’s eulogy is breathtaking even for his myriad mendacities. How about his on MacDougall’s heroics during the Miners’ Strike:

And John [MacDougall] and Bert [Gough] were true to their words; when faced with the provocation of social security relief withdrawn, with miners reliant on soup kitchens, they used the Social Work Scotland Act to give essential relief to miners’ families.

Social security relief withdrawn? Why those bastard Tories. What monsters. What’s that? Oh, hang on…

‘More long-term unemployed people could have their benefits cut - or stopped altogether - under new proposals‘ … ‘Benefits could be withdrawn almost immediately if people do not cooperate‘ … ‘These proposals will make those people worse off, and that’s of course how these savings are to be made‘

Life is indeed measured by deeds. Gordon Brown, the morally vacuous old joke, has been measured. Please be sodding off now.

Via Aaron we have this - more morons in positions of power…

Might I humbly suggest that if members of the public have to teach these clowns their law, then the training isn’t all it should be down at police school.