Within weeks of Beatrice Fraenkel's long overdue defection to Labour, news emerges of more turmoil in the Lib Dim ranks.
Today's Daily Post begins to lift the corner of the rotting carpet of the Lib Dim's internal warfare, with a short, but completely accurate, story about the deselection of Kevin Firth after 10 years service as a councillor.
Firth, a close colleague of Inspector Clueless Richard Marbrow, was dumped by the Lib Dims from Old Swan.His crime?
Firth had the temerity to speak out against Fireman Bradley over the Mathew Street fiasco.
Well actually, it wasn't even that rebellious - Firth simply tried to hold Bradley to account for the Mathew St cock-up during a Lib Dim group meeting in December.
Firth had the audacity to stand up and ask a few pertinent questions about who did what, when and who knew what, when.
This was too much for the power-crazed fireman who has not the faintest idea of what is meant by political accountability.
He hit the roof at Firth's questioning and berated him in his customary 'angrily chewing a wasp' manner for daring to ask questions of "The Leader of the Council".
(Entertainingly, Bradley has become so puffed-up with his own self-importance that he has now taken to referring to himself in the third person! eds)
Meanwhile, his fireman lieutenant Steve Hurst, who faces trial on election offences in June, made a mental note of Firth's transgressions.
Bradley, Hurst and the Storeyteller then met secretly with Old Swan colleagues Keith Turner and the appalling and totally beyond redemption Bernie Turner, to plot Firth's downfall.
An extra reason for knifing him (apart from the Clueless connection of course, eds) was Bradley's claim that Firth had leaked "The Leader of the Council's" email to CoverUp demanding the Harbarrowboy's head over Mathew Street.
So off went Firth's head instead.
What is significant about today's Daily Post story is that it obviously comes from deep inside the Lib Dim group and reflects extreme unhappiness at Bradley's bully-boy tactics.
Expect more dissent to be publicly voiced soon.
We turn now to the deselection of another Lib Dim councillor - Ann Hines - from West Derby after 14 years.The Fireman was desperate to keep Hines in place because of her compliant, no-questions-asked obedience to whatever he said.
So all manner of extraordinary tricks and manouevres were pulled to ensure Hines was re-selected as the Lib Dim candidate in May - which she duly was.
However this was too much for her two West Derby colleagues, the semi-detached Stuart Monkcom and Norman Mills who had been extremely critical of Hines's work-rate and attendance record.
They complained to the Lib Dim's nationally about Bradley and Storeyteller's role in this cynical stitch-up.
Astonishingly, their complaint was upheld by the national party who ordered that the West Derby party go through another candidate selection.
This was yet another humiliating smack in the chops for the Fireman, especially when, in the re-run, Ann Hines was duly-deselected.
Imagine his barely disguised fury at this turn of events.
Coming soon: It's Grand National time - so who are the runners and riders in The Lib Dim Succession Stakes?
2 comments:
And that's not all. Others want to jump ship too.
Dave Antrobus, a thoroughly decent bloke, has seen enough and quietly exited stage left. He won't stand again. Paul Clein & his bonkers wife, Jan, shake their heads in despair.
Meanwhile, the post-Bradley leadership manoeuvres continue. The thug fireman, Hurst, fancies his chances provided he's not jailed first. Sleaze-bag Richard Kemp is in the running too. And the Incredible Gormless Hulk, Colin Eldridge, will give it a go too.
However the peoples' favorite, the punters' friend, is the astonishingly stupid, hideously ugly and dangerously fat Bernie Turner. She even blocks the sunlight from fellow dim-witted flab-hag, Nadia Stewart
By Jove, Missus! It is with ill-disguised rage (a plastic nose and false moustache) that I address the people of Grotty Cash today. I should have known by previous experience to expect this but the recent turn of events has taken even my breath away. (Which should save me a few bob on extra strong mints) Yes Missus, The Night of the Penknives has started!
Now we all knew this would happen but here’s the twist, it’s Wee Wally Bradlow, that is holding the knife, (well he has to have a grown-up with him or a Teacher) while the gutless Diddymen of the Glib-Dums bring their knitting into the Chuckle Chamber and mutter under their wheezing last breaths before May.
Yes Missus, I am talking about DE-SELECTION!!!!!
Now I warn you ladies and gentlemen, this is not the usual rambling of Sir Diddy, when he hacks into my Blog to peddle his tales of woe, poverty, discomknockeration and having to survive on a pension. No this is the full Academic thrust, calm down missus, of my Professorship. I will be dealing with scholarly and philofaxical issues.
So with that warning, before I continue to explain my personal rage at what has taken place, allow me to enlighten those of you who may be unfamiliar with the “Selection” theories of Charles Drake, contained in his major work on Evolution,
“Hello My Darlings” or The Survival of the Fattest Cat.
Now, I always say don’t bother with the book when you can see the movie. So as you may recall from the film “I’ve Inherited Wind” when Samantha’s husband Darren, from “Bewitched” gave up advertising and got a job as a school teacher, he had to go to court to fight the church and the establishment over the right to teach children about the “Natural Selection” of Councillors. The “Monkey Trial”, as it became known.
The establishment argued that “Creation” must be taught in our schools and it is against Sod’s Law to say we end up with Monkeys in our council chambers. They presented their arguments based on religious teachings and the Book of Genesis from the gospel of Rick Walkman.
Now Darwin, that’s Charles, and not to be confused with Darren, in the film, although his mother-in-law sometimes called him Darwin in bewitched, where was I? Yes, Darwin presented his case quoting from the Book of Genitals, often dismissed as bollocks, by the church, whereby it is believed that only through a process of natural selection may Humankind be trusted to hold political office otherwise you just get Monkeys.
This angered the establishment, to have their political representatives compared to Apes and they pointed to an example of a local councillor who was also remarkably, although highly unlikely, a direct descendent of Darwin, none other than Councillor Frank Darwin of the Dickensian Fields ward. Are we to believe, they challenged, that this fine councillor standing here before you is an accident of nature? Can you compare this good man, to a Monkey?
Now this would have been a strong argument, had Frank not been swinging on a tyre at the time, after somebody had dumped 2,000 of them in his constituency.
But let us focus on the main theological arguments. Briefly, the Establishment or Creationist view teaches that Sod is the divine selector, he created the first man, who was called Dick, and Sod placed him alone in Sir Anthony Eden’s Garden, where he could eat Liberal helpings of what ever he liked, apart from Ramsey Macdonald’s forbidden fruit MacFlurry. Now Dick, or “Clueless” as he is referred to in ancient Greek Kebab texts, he was after all the first of his kind and had little knowledge of the new world or calorie controlled diets, started eating everything in sight, apart from the vegetables. So the Creationists believe that a Barbecued Rib was taken from the side of Dick’s plate and that this was used to create a Turnip, or as it was later to be known, a Bernie Turnip. We all know it today as a fairly tasteless vegetable with an odd perfume and usually half-baked.
Now she started to pinch all the burgers off of his plate and they began fighting over the Pizzas. Yes, Missus, Pizzas are as old as that, BC (big crust) not just AD (Anno Domino’s). Now the Turnip, they argue, was enticed over to the yellow arches of the MacDonald tree that formed a large “M” in the garden, by an oily haired serpent that smelled of Peroni. The Serpent asked the Turnip if she would like some MacFlurry and if she wanted fries with it. She of course scoffed the lot and felt great shame when she later stood on the bathroom scales. When Dick saw that there was none of the MacFlurry left for him he tried to vote her out of Edens’garden but being only two of them, they could not get a majority and so resolve this dilemma they began to begat.
When they had begated enough, and since there was no risk of disease at that time they were able to have safe seats, they formed the first council through which they could make decisions about who gets all the free dinners. But in doing so, they lost their innocence and any chance of developing original thought and so became destined to remain glib and dumb. The first Glib-Dum council.
(Note: It is interesting that from their later begatings they formed a Brewery and a Pop group, Cain and Abe. Cains is still around purveying fine ales but the other is now lost without record apart from a brief appearance in the film epic Status Quo Vadis and a support role in the Name of the Father)
Charlie Darwin challenged this simplistic literal view of the creation and the selection of councillors and it has of course been challenged by many scholars with strange hair, including, Sir Melvin Blogg, of the Southbank Show who, on this very subject, did a 26 week series on Men and Motors. Sir Melvyn examined new translations of ancient texts carried out by Professor Stanley Unwin, of Invercockieleekie University
(regular readers will be familiar with his work)
According to Professor Unwin, said Blogg “the words used in the Gospelloes have hold severmole different meanings as our linguode has developmost over a periole of two thrimsold years or more”. The quote is taken from Unwins' Cereal work
“ Darwin’s Theoromes on the developmode of Silly Consoles and the Teacherings of the Gospelloes.” Chapto 2 The Deaf Sea Scrawls.
For example, Professor Unwin points out that Peroni, is an early Aramaic word for Story and that the word Serpent is a corruption of Servant, so, “one who serves a story” A Story Teller. The fact that Peroni is now also the name of a beer that is a bit “pissy” Unwin, jokes rather crudely, means that the whole account is that of a supposed servant and storyteller who today would be seen as somebody who is “taking the piss”. Therefore, nothing relating to the Glib-Dums is to be believed or taken literally.
So there you have it ladies and gentlemen. The finest scholars and academics and even Sir Melvyn Wig agree that the Glib-Dums must allow natural selection to produce our elected representatives and not base it on a fat-filled diet of nose-bagging and underhand plotting by serpents. The recent work by Professor Unwin, who incidentally used to be on the same pub quiz team with me, whilst at Cambridge (the pub not the University) but that is beside the point as we never won anything and he was a total liability, anyway his work is beyond dispute by those who can understand it. So it is for this reason that I began with ill-disguised rage. Can you remember that far back? I shall explain.
Against all the proven laws of natural selection, I, Professor Chucklebutty, have been de-selected through the conniving and plotting of Wee Hamish Bradlow and Dickey Mint the Storeyteller. Thwarting my chance of becoming the Elected Mayor for the City of Grotty Cash. After receiving 80% of the vote crushing the latest rival Phyll the Lord Redlips and smashing the original sole candidate, Mr Foghorn Leggarty with his outspoken “An Elected Mayor, I say Mayor, for Grotty Cash” campaign.
80% missus! How many of them got that share of the vote? Alright it was only 29 actual votes, but that is democracy.
And why ladies and gentlemen have Bradlow and Dickey Mint allowed this penknife to be brought out? Is it because people dared to ask? I got Beatrice Franksfornothing to ask a few awkward questions about finance and then young Kenny Forthright to ask, Wally who it was that booked Mr Plinka-Plonka as the sole outdoor event for the disastrous Matt Munro Street Festival last year and how much did it cost? Both were shown the usual local Glib Dum tolerance of anybody who attempts to question them, and swiftly deselected with a size ten boot up the clucass. Two unmistakeable giggles could be heard coming from the room next door. By Jove, somebody pass me a dictionary to look up the words liberal and democrat again….I better check socialism while I am there, as that may have been modified ever so slightly in the last few years. But that’s the old style politics. As a former Jam butty miner I am of course a Neo Preservative so as far as I am concerned it’s all a load of ballots.
And my question, I hear you ask? What caused the wrath of my former little friend Wally Bradlow to plunge the de-selection knife into the old Professor?
Well I simply asked, why was a poor vulnerable pensioner like Sir Diddy forced to retire on a measly £395,000 pay-off when there was still tens of millions waiting to be squandered and poured down the pan. Some of that could have been poured in my direction! They threw me down the steps of the Chuckle Chamber. How dare they!?
I shall now consider whether to stand as an Independent. In which case, I shall bring back flogging. That’s if they haven’t flogged everything by the time I step into my converted motorised Lambanana Mayoral Limousine.
Tatty Bye Everybody Tatty Bye!
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