In which Scurra reverts to type

May I just make a brief answer to the person who came over here via the offices of Theodore and Evadne Google (they do work hard don’t they? It’s still just them and their young nephew, Colin, in the office you know) who enquired “What’s going to happen during Kali Yuga?”

Well, if you had been paying attention these last few years instead of playing with yourself, my carefully constructed essays would have given you a clue. Dumbwit.

In case you missed it, it is happening. In the dark age, the world becomes consumed with violence, materialism and decadence, and humanity will entirely lose touch with the spark of divinity that is its real nature. Got it?
We have the spectacle of the world’s major super power being led by a psychopathic fuckwit, who may well be handing over to some even more stupid come November. And for all of those of you who had been hoping for the collapse of capitalism and the dawning of a golden age, then let me remind you that if the USA loses its grip on world power through incompetent government, bankruptcy and a shortage of essential supplies, then shall we join in applauding the new regime – either an assortment of oil-rich, intolerant, religious fundamentalist fuckwits, or an oppressive, intolerant, polluting conglomeration of cunts in China? Your children will, if they survive, be telling stories of the happy days of GW.

Still, mustn’t grumble.

*****

I have just watched the first instalment of Stephen Fry’s television series wherein he plans to visit the 50 United States. What a load of total arse. (I have a little tip for you – shouting at the television is unlikely to result in an improvement in the quality of product) It is no different from all of the other short-of-ideas ten-a-penny crap so called celebrity goes some place and reports tedium programmes that permeate the airwaves. I had hoped that Fry would avoid all of the standard glibness and sycophancy that characterise this drivel, but no, he jumped right in. “Oh crikey, a kitchen!” (not sure if the exclamation was crikey or gosh or fuckmesideways, and I ain’t gonna watch the crap again to check). Yes, Stephen, they do have kitchens on submarines. You arse. Yes, I know it is difficult to go to someone’s neighbourhood, intrude on their privacy with your film crew and then be rude about them, even if it is someone who habitually rubs deershit into his clothes, but the solution is quite simple. Don’t fucking do it. Someone with Stephen Fry’s ability should be able to produce something interesting, witty, original and worthwhile, in any combination. I shall watch the rest of the series and report back to you. If he continues to stick his tongue up the collective backside of America, at least someone there might have the decency to call him a fawning limey twat and punch him on the nose.

On the other hand someone on the staff had a sense of irony – playing “Volunteers” by Jefferson Airplane as the background music to a piece about volunteers on a military submarine. Or perhaps they were just as fucking stupid as the person who commissioned this pile of wank.