Two world wars and one World Cup ...
A FOOTBALL chant popular with the Neanderthal branch of the Ingerland Supporters’ Club, to be sung at Johnny Foreigner once the Channel has been safely negotiated, goes: “If it wasn’t for the English you’d be Krauts …”
While the ditty certainly lacks historical accuracy, evidence was brought this week to render it even more nonsensical. You see, we English, we proud patriots, are probably “Krauts” ourselves.
According to scientists (who for once have stopped playing internet poker and looking at online pornography to do some real work), the Anglo-Saxon invasion of this sceptred isle 1,600 years ago was so successful that the genetic characteristics of the native Brit were wiped out, leaving us with a population with mainly Germanic genes. As they say, you can choose your friends but you can’t choose your family.
Now while this news will undoubtedly come as a shock to Mr Piers Morgan and anyone else who studied history at the university of the Victor comic (Achtung, Tommy! For you ze war is over”), there is some sense to it. After all, our Royal family is German, our cultural arrogance is German and our appetite for beer and fighting is certainly German.
And it’s not a bad time to be German. The marvellous organization of the World Cup and the wonderful welcome received by everyone who went has definitely changed our perception of the country. And they’ve got a woman Prime Minister, which is a bonus.
Perhaps Noel Coward had it right in his 1943 composition (probably introduced by Sir Jimmy Savile on that week’s Top of the Pops):
“Don't let's be beastly to the Germans, when our victory is ultimately won,It was just those nasty Nazis who persuaded them to fight, and their Beethoven and Bach are really far worse than their bite …”
SO IF we’re now all Germans, it is entirely appropriate that the word of the day should be schadenfreude, defined by my dictionary as “a malicious satisfaction obtained from the misfortunes of others”.
The cause of this malevolent glee is the thought of a certain Omar Bakri sitting sweating on the quayside in Beirut while Israeli missiles rain down all about him. Bakri, of course, is the race-hate “preacher” who spent 20 years on the dole in this country while hailing terrorists as “magnificent martyrs” and praising those behind the 9/11 atrocities.
When he nipped off to Beirut to snap up a £150,000 luxury apartment (and where did that money come from?) the jug-eared and muddle-brained Charles Clarke had a moment of unusual sanity and banned him from ever returning. Bakri did a “not bovvered” and replied that he “never wanted to see the place again”.
Strange, then, that he should turn up amongst 2,000 British evacuees in the port on Thursday, trying to blag a place on board HMS Bulwark. Top marks to the embassy official who spotted him and promptly told him to clear off. Schadenfreude indeed.
THE THEME continues, this time with a nod to Gabriel Fahrenheit, the German physicist who devised the temperature guide with which we are all familiar.
Did you notice how many television weather forecasts reverted to Fahrenheit this week, ditching the ridiculous and nonsensical scale invented by Swedish astronomer Anders Celcius? (You’re getting value for money on the trivia front this week, folks.) There’s a very good reason for that.
Fahrenheit is eminently sensible. In simple terms it starts at 0 degrees and goes up to 100 degrees. You therefore know exactly where on the scale you are between freezing and boiling. Celcius is a Euro-nonsense imposed on us by the traitors and quislings of the BBC. They can waffle on all day and I still haven’t got a clue whether to don a T-shirt or a jumper. I end up sweating like a Brazilian on the Underground.
It’s telling that when the weather becomes the big story, the so-called modernisers quickly revert to a scale we all understand.
I WAS going to write about how “the Health and Safety Nazis march on …” In light of the above, I’d better re-phrase that.
So, the Health and Safety stormtroopers march on, this week being handed the golden opportunity of prosecuting the Metropolitan Police for shooting a suspected terrorist on a tube train. What fantastic publicity that will be. Beats writing legislation outlining the correct procedure for pouring a cup of tea.
Meanwhile Lily the cat has become the latest victim of the red-tape warriors. Stranded up a tree near her home in Carlisle, she had every right to expect the local fire brigade to turn up and rescue her. Well, that’s what they do, isn’t it? (When they’re not eating fry-ups or watching porn films, that is.)
Unfortunately, Lily reckoned without health and safety regulations, which decreed that the tree was “the wrong shape” for the firemen to put their ladders up against. It wasn’t until five days later that she was rescued by a passing tree surgeon.
I fully expect Lily to now call Claims Direct and sue for compensation, and so the merry-go-round of modern life continues to spin.
O The views of Mr Beelzebub are purely personal and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the Editor or staff of this website, of anyone who hasn't already bought their can of Magicool, of anyone who answered the door to the postman yesterday forgetting that they were stark bollock naked, or of anyone who didn't spend Wednesday night with their feet in the fridge and with a bag of frozen peas strapped to their head.
posted by BarryBeelzebub @ 9:54 AM
17 Comments:
I don't agree. As far as most normal people are concerned, zero degrees = freezing and 100 degrees = boiling. That's good enough.
I'm not interested in the science. I just want terms of reference that people can easily understand.
Ah, rts48 beat me to it. Indeed, in our "everything is dangerous" culture, 100 degrees sounds so much more dangerous than a mere 35 degrees, doesn't it?
So how do these fools reckon we're all Krauts? The historical argument about whether the Anglo-Saxon invasion was a case of ethnic cleansing or assimulation has been raging for years.
Historians etc point out that there are very few words of Celtic origin in the English language, and especially in Eastern England, Celtic place names are not very common. This apparently points to a form of ethnic cleansing. On the other hand, a skeleton of a woman found at Wookey Hole, Somerset, was dated as being Neolithic (i.e pre- Celtic). Local indigenous villagers were asked for blood samples- and it appears that many of them are related to the Neolithic woman.
It annoys me deeply that modern "historians" are so damned sure of their facts, happily dismissing years of evidence and having no new light to throw on the subject, being mere journalists (Sorry, Bazza!).
Personally, I like the Germans. They're fine as long as you keep them out of Poland, France and Russia.
Excellent stuff, Bazza, always gives me a laugh at the stupidity of the world.
And don't forget Farenheit 451 - the temperature at which paper burns. Somehow "232 Degrees Celcius" doesn't have the same literary ring.
When I was a kid if the weatherman said the temperature was in the seventies we'd head for the beach; if it was in the eighties we'd maybe take a hat and a bottle of pop. The nineties? Nay, we lived up North.
Call it poetic licence.
Or being pissed at the time.
It is a tragedy for Jean Charles' family that he was killed and it was a terrible mistake- but am I the only one that's noticed that their grief is being hijacked and manipulated by the Islamists? The BBC reports:-
"The presence of Abul Koyair and his brother Mohammed Abdul Kahar - who was shot and wounded by police at his east London home last month - served as a reminder of the case's wider importance.
The Forest Gate pair, along with Mr Menezes, have become rallying points for critics of the government's perceived heavy-handedness in the so-called war on terror".
I am sick, sick unto death, of the "Forest Gate Two" and just can't wait for them to roll out their legally aided compo claim from the comfort of their digs in the Kings Cross Holiday Inn.
Whilst the stop the war / respect/ prawn sandwich brigade cry for the disrespect the Forest Gate little lambs have suffered; I'm waiting for a cogent explanation of how the police uncovered £38,000.00 unexplained grand stuffed under the mattress of their home.
That's not enough for these mupetts and they have latched on to use shamelessly Jean Charles' grieving family to promote their own "cause". (didn't the IPCC leak that Osama bin Geezer of the brothers tried to grab a cops' gun and it went off? I see that's gone nice and quiet).
Someone earlier posted about the baloon going up- as if that is sometime in the future. It's already gone up. It started and has been systematically pursued since 11 September 2001 and will not stop until western civilization has been bombed back into the stone age.
As I don't imagine such an easy capitulation, we are going to be dealing with with bombings for the indefinite future- no matter which PM is in power or who becomes president of the USA.
In the meantime, I do hope the handwringers of this country don't buy the bullshit that "it is because I am Muslim" and that the Jean Charles' tragedy has anything to do with their own, at best laundered money, and at worst, a bomb that remains unaccounted for.
There is only 1 flaw in Barrys assumptions that we are all gentically German, The humopur factor, How can we have evolved in 1600 years to a point of enjoying Little Britain satrical good nature bantering with the Porridge Wogs like Jimmy and the ability to take the Piss mercillesley. When iur Teutonic chums (brothers in Europe) still find Benny Hill the epitome of classy comedy.
Other things may point to us all being related, but either our evolution on thi ssceptred isle has been advanced by separation prior to the Chunnel and day trips to Europe or am i missing something. The only thing funnier than the German Language is Jokes with Germans as the punchline.
In the vein of previous comments, this one is for Tony B Liar and the Weirdale militia
Tony Blair called Gordon Brown into his office one day and said, 'Gordon
I have a great idea! We are going to go all out to win back Middle
England'.
Good idea PM, how will we go about it?' said Brown.
'Well' said Blair ' we'll get ourselves one of those long Barbour coats,some proper wellies' a stick and a flat cap, oh and a Labrador. Then we'll really look the part. We'll go to a nice old country pub, in Much Something or other or one of those villages and
we'll show we really enjoy the Countryside
'Right PM' said Brown.So a few days later, all kitted out and with the requisite Labrador at
heel, they set off from London in a westerly direction. Eventually they arrived at just the place they were looking for and found a lovely country pub and,with the dog, went in and up to the bar.
'Good evening Landlord, may we have two pints of your best ale, from the Wood said Blair.'Good evening Prime Minister' said the landlord,'two pints of best it is, coming up'.
Blair and Brown stood leaning on the bar drinking their beer and
chatting, nodding now and again to those who came into the bar for a
drink.The dog lay quietly at their feet. All of a sudden, the door from the adjacent bar opened and in came a grizzled old shepherd, complete with crook. He walked up to the Labrador, lifted it's tail and looked underneath, shrugged his shoulders And walked back to the other bar. A few moments later,in came another Old shepherd
with his crook. He walked up to the dog, lifted it's tail, Looked
underneath, scratched his head and went back to the other bar. Over the course of the next hour or so another four or five shepherds came in,lifted the dog's tail and went away looking puzzled.
Eventually Blair and Brown could stand it no longer and called the Barman over.'Tell me' said Blair, ' why did all those old shepherds come in and look under the dog's tail like that? Is it an old custom?'
'Good Lord no,' said the barman. 'Its just that someone went in and told them that there was a Labrador in this bar with
two arseholes'!
Interesting comment from the "Voice of Stoke Newington" recently. Despite banging on about "hypocrisy" he's outdone himself and changed his mind again.
After saying:
"I shed no tears for Jean Charles. Some people seem to think that the police should deal with suicide bombers the same way as shoplifters."
He now reckons:
"It is a tragedy for Jean Charles' family that he was killed and it was a terrible mistake"
I'm beginning to think that Tony B. was right all along.........
Dear Tony B aka Anon-
No inconsistency- one can be consider mistaken killing a tragedy- it certainly is for his family. Having said that- you won't see me at his vigils along with those who want to manipulate his family's grief and excoriate the police for their own agenda. I am sorry the man died.
I am even sorrier that the IPCC's own Erin Brokovich, the secretary (note not investigator) who leaked a story (we'll probably never know how correct her version of events is) of how Jean Charles died, to the press. It's dingbats like the IPCC's own Erin who make me weep.
I still don't cry for Jean Charles as I truly find it difficult to believe that police went out on a revenge mission and slotted the poor bastard- regardless of any action or inaction by him. I give the police a little more credit than that.
Similiarly, I really have trouble swallowing the Forest Gate Two's bullshit that the police never identified themselves and that they thought they were being robbed. (Possibly of the £38K?!)
Believe it our not, there are protocols that the police follow. That the CPS decided not to prosecute is indicative that protocol was probably followed- in both cases. Never mind- bring on the legally aided compo claims!
So I'm the voice of Stokey? What does that make you anon? The voice of Dibly Parish Council?
Perhaps the REAL tragedy is that:-
1: Yassin Hassan Omar, 24, wanted over bomb attempt on a Tube near Warren Street, arrested in Birmingham
2: Ibrahim Muktar Said, 27, suspected of attempting to bomb a No 26 bus in Shoreditch, arrested in North Kensington, London
3: Ramzi Mohamed, 23, wanted over failed attempt to bomb a Tube near Oval, arrested in North Kensington, London
4. Hussain Osman, 27 (also known as Hamdi Issac) wanted over the Shepherd's Bush attack, arrested in Rome (Jean Charles look alike)
are all being treated like criminals rather than the enemy. Perhaps you'd prefer the Army to deal rather than the police?
Maybe when Dibley comes under siege, you'll realise you can't have your cake and eat it.
Sir, I must protest. Having logged on my usual weekly dose of for xenophonobia, I was disgusted to find a whole piece on Germans with not a single insult. No mention of sausages, no mention of Poland and not even a comment on hairy armpits. You really must try harder, Barry. The Germans are surely big enough and ugly enough to take it.
Sorry to disappoint you Kris old lad - as far as I can make out both you AND Mr Bliar are mad as a box of frogs.
Tourette Training for office workers:
1.
Try Saying:
I think you could do with more training
Instead Of:
You don't have a f*cking clue, do you?
2.
Try Saying:
She's an aggressive go-getter.
Instead Of:
She's a f*cking power-crazy b*tch
3.
Try Saying:
Perhaps I can work late
Instead Of:
And when the f*ck do you expect me to do this?
4.
Try Saying:
I'm certain that isn't feasible
Instead Of:
F*ck off a*se-wipe
5.
Try Saying:
Really?
Instead Of:
Well f*ck me backwards with a telegraph pole
6.
Try Saying:
Perhaps you should check with...
Instead Of:
Tell someone who gives a f*ck.
7.
Try Saying:
I wasn't involved in the project.
Instead Of:
Not my f*cking problem, mate.
8.
Try Saying:
That's interesting.
Instead Of:
What the f*ck?
9.
Try Saying:
I'm not sure this can be implemented within the given timescale.
Instead Of:
No f*cking chance mate.
10.
Try Saying:
It will be tight, but I'll try to schedule it in
Instead Of:
Why the f*ck didn't you tell me that yesterday?
11.
Try Saying:
He's not familiar with the issues
Instead Of:
He's got his head up his f*cking a*se.
12.
Try Saying:
Excuse me, sir?
Instead Of:
Oi, f*ck face.
13.
Try Saying:
Of course, I was only going to be at home anyway
Instead Of:
Yeah, who needs f*cking holidays anyway.
One could get pedantic Rob, and point out that it's spelt Celsius after the Swedish astronomer Anders Celsius who first proposed a scale of this type in 1742. Also, doctor mick, 451 degrees Fahrenheit may be claimed to be the kindling point of paper (as in Ray Bradbury's book), but it actually depends on the chemical content, type of pulp used and the thickness of the paper.
But that would take all the fun out of the debate don't you think?
Never mind about all this temperature scale bollocks - where's Bazza's latest post. Is he pissed again or is there summat wrong with my browser???? Anyone having the same problem?
tc
You should be careful, the authorities are having a massive clampdown on pedants using the internet. However another nugget to ponder...
There is a not so well-known version of the origin of the Fahrenheit scale based on Gabriel Fahrenheit himself being a Freemason.
In Freemasonry, there are 32 degrees of enlightenment, 32 being the highest. The use of the term "degree" is said also to have been derived from the degrees of masonry.
If we are really Germans then why are British women so pale and ugly compared to German women?
And what about all the British red-heads? You don't see many German red-heads.
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