Twisted naked blonde ambitions

THE WORLD THROUGH A LENS

As we witness Boris Johnson – no longer the UK’s Foreign Secretary but our most visible liability abroad – caricaturing himself, it’s clear to me what he’s trying to do. 

Johnson-Trump

In this age of cartoon leaders and surreal news, the plots are transparent but the shameless actors win the adulation of crowds wherever they go (in their own minds at least). Johnson is trying to breed fear and normalise racism, grooming the country for BoJo as PM. You only have to look across the Atlantic to see how easily-led the paranoid and ignorant are. He’s playing to the far-right, just like his comic book orange hero.

Science fiction writers look to the world around us for stories, and for the most part we make them at least plausible. Although time travel is theoretically possible, in the current accepted model, space time is not a pre-determined block. The past is written and recorded, the present is what we observe, and the future is yet to be written (there are other articles on quantum mechanics and particle entanglement elsewhere on this blog). Sci-fi writers can imagine near- and far-future bright and bleak scenarios, hoping to help readers determine a future they’d like to live in, and spot the early signs of darkness approaching.

It’s August 2019 and Boris Johnson is Prime Minister of the UK. The Tory party split in the aftermath of Johnson’s comments in The Daily Telegraph about Muslim women’s niqabs making them look like “bank robbers” or “letterboxes”. Those on the centre-right couldn’t align behind an overt racist, and Johnson knew this. He’d whipped up enough racial paranoia among right-wing voters that joining with UKIP was inevitable, and expected by those of us who saw right through him.

The UK crashed out of the EU with a ‘No-deal’ Brexit. It was “The will of the public,” but the nation had been lied to. The no-deal scenario was part of the capitalist plan, as the UK became a country of little regulation, and a low-wage production centre for cheap exported goods. Like local and national services before, the NHS was privatised and became a machine to make money, saving lives only selectively: those who could afford to be saved. A biblical prophesy of Revelations, made real through social cleansing more visible even than the mass murder of Grenfell.

Brexit Bus Ambulance

No deal meant that Britain was, for a time, unique in the world (besides recently being voted ‘Most stupid’), having no trade deals with any other country. With so many global threats (nuclear war and climate change), the UK simply cut loose and set itself adrift.

The value of Sterling plunged and, coupled with strict border controls, the UK quickly dropped down the list of international tourism destinations. With their currency worth little overseas, few Britons could afford to travel and holiday abroad. Air travel became a luxury, and the preserve of the rich and entitled. It was a return to the heyday of British aviation in the 1950s and 60s.

As Johnson did his best to lose allies and alienate nations, swingeing import taxes were placed on British goods exported abroad. The Foreign Office once again created an intentionally ‘hostile environment’ for non-Brtish nationals, and the social cleansing was aided by increased hostility towards outsiders, normalised by Johnson’s party and overlooked by an underfunded police force. The UK had become a paranoid and insular society, groomed by Johnson on his path to power.

The Prime Minister resided over a prison state, terrorised by his false rhetoric of outside threats. It was a self-sustaining economy, feeding ownership and driving nails into the coffins of workers who could no longer afford even to bury themselves. It was social cleansing in full flow. President Trump had seen all this coming. It was part of a greater plan.

Trump offered an olive branch to the UK economy, with trade deals which no other country was prepared to sanction. With no other rescuer in sight, the US became saviour and the UK was indebted, becoming a de facto 51st state, where those who remain meat-eaters feast on chlorinated chicken and steroid beef, while living in dangerous public housing, hastily built in a deregulated market to solve the housing crisis. In reality, death traps to continue the social cleansing.

Among those who write and speculate on such things, there are some who think Trump could hold the UK to ransom. In return for propping our economy up (and with a lot of nuclear weapons), he could demand sovereignty, make the UK a republic and sell the royal estate. The royals are the acceptable face of entitlement, and the good causes they support are not in keeping with the global social cleansing plan.

Brexit Mag2

Apart from that last bit, it’s all perfectly plausible.

A shaved Bungle from Rainbow

THE WRITER’S LIFE

If I were asked to describe Donald Trump in metaphors, I’d probably go with a cross between a head injury and a plastic sack wrapped around a lamp post in the wind. But I wasn’t asked.

Jason Hazeley and Joel Morris are the writers behind Charlie Brooker’s Wipe, but sadly Wipe 2017 was cancelled as Brooker was too busy making more episodes of Black Mirror. They’ve shared some notes they made which came from a brainstorm, “Describe Donald Trump,” and put them on a charity T-shirt, with all profits going to The Refugee Community Kitchen, a charity providing meals to displaced people both in the UK and abroad. The insults on the shirt are splendidly juvenile, and it’s all in a good cause.

Trump globe

My shirt arrived today, and the full text on the front (see below) reads as follows:

A man who looks like he’s constantly shitting. The face from a leaflet about blood pressure. Pig off of Pipkins. Father Jack. A guinea pig in a Toby Jug. Your first girlfriend’s horrible dad. The evil Beach Boy. Someone trick or treating as Paddy Ashdown. A kitten balanced on a Chelsea bun. A fist full of straw. A live-action reboot of President Business from the Lego Movie. A talking haystack. A totem pole made of fish paste. A cross between Silvio Berlusconi and Boss Hogg. A walking wig named after a fart. Worzel Gummidge after a spa weekend. A man who’s sprayed the top of his head with so much thickener, it’s got into his brain. The evil Bruce Forsyth. The Cheshire Cunt. Less a politician than a bag of hair through which stupid ideas could pass. Fascist Bagpuss. Primitive He-Man doll made by a feral child out of straw and turnips. Ageing He-Man cosplayer dressed for court appearance. A fist with hair. A home-made Alec Baldwin. A baboon’s arse poking out from under a fucked doormat. An American businessman from a Two Ronnies Dallas sketch. Hitler Simpson. Donnie Dorko. The sheriff from Live and Let Die. The crude bigoted mayor from a simplistic children’s film about racial tolerance. A shaved Bungle. A billionaire bigot who looks a bit sweaty because he’s trying to smuggle the prototype of a giant Shredded Wheat out of the factory by hiding it above his forehead. A Vic Reeves drawing of Jimmy Savile. Your dad, drunk on Boxing Day, but with a Tribble on his head. An orange supremacist. The words ‘HOW HARD CAN IT BE’ in a suit. The American Boris Johnson, but like their milkshakes, the American version is much, much thicker – and even worse for you. A man who looks like a clingfilm bag of tinned frankfurters that’s been kicked through a cobweb. A character that, had it been invented by Roald Dahl, wouldn’t have made it to the end of a factory visit. A lame 80s fish-out-of-water movie president. The furious orange. Mickey Blowoff. Gropey Doo. Buzz Shiteyear. Head like a cartoon cat squashed into a mailbox. His smashed handbag of a face. The sort of face David Cameron might stick his dick in for a bet. The kind of face that if it appeared outside your window might, ironically, make you consider building a wall to keep it out. If he kissed a baby, it’d probably just be a first step in a long game of going to bed with it in eighteen years. A soulless rich white male who claims to represent ordinary, hard-working people – in much the same way I could be said to represent the Brazilian grimecore community or the nineteen-headed creatures of the planet Blitheroid or the international carpet-eating association. It was surprising to find out that he was a juvenile, entitled, chauvinist locker room dick, because he looks more like a horse rapist. Farage compared him to a Silverback gorilla, probably meaning that once in captivity in the White House, he’d sulk in a corner, masturbating and going insane.

TheDonald Tee shirt

Support Refugee Community Kitchen and wear an offensive stream of consciousness upon your person.

A White House invitation to Britain’s Got Talent*

WORLD NEWS | POLITICS

I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to update this. So now that our shameless Prime Minister and her morally corrupt government have invited her puppet master to the UK, it was time to dust it off. With the visit planned for Friday 7/13, as it will come to be known, what could possibly go wrong? This just in…

SuBoNatAmSuBo previously caused controversy at T in The Park

SUSAN BOYLE ASKED TO WELCOME US PRESIDENT TO BRITAIN

Britain’s Got Talent runner-up Susan Boyle has confirmed that she’s been approached by the US president to perform a welcoming ceremony for his “most excellent” forthcoming UK visit, it is alleged.

The hairy cornflake said she was initially asked to sing I dreamed a dream from Les Miserables – the song which catapulted her to fame on Britain’s Got Talent – but she declined, referring to Emanuel Macron’s recent visit to Washington: “He watches one Russell Crowe film with the French president, and he thinks he knows history and politics?”

When pressed on the song she’d perform instead, she replied: “I’ve never done politics, so I asked wee Nicola Sturgeon what she thought. I told her I’d been approached, that it was for Donald, Theresa, and their special relationship, then she just came out with the song.”

Asked to confirm the planned welcoming anthem, Boyle confirmed, “Och, aye. It’s So what! by The Anti-Nowhere League. See, wee Nicky even knew the lyrics: ‘I’ve been to Hastings, I’ve been to Brighton, I’ve been to Eastbourne too…’ and so on. Well Donald’s been everywhere, before he was in politics, but now he’s coming to the UK. I doubt the prime minister will show him how Tory cuts have destroyed our seaside towns, but at least he’ll know what he’s buying. I’m glad I asked the wee lass.”

Asked how she came to be approached to perform for the president, Boyle said, “I think he got me mixed up with someone else. Elaine Paige maybe? But feck it, I’ve got a new album coming out and this is a good excuse to plug it. I’m not proud.”

Asked to explain her choice of song, Boyle said: “I started telling his people about The Anti-Nowhere League, and how they’re Christian revolutionaries, which is a complete lie, so I thought Donald would appreciate it. I went on to explain how So What! is an anthem. You know? Donald’s done all this stuff but, so what! He’s president! They didn’t even want to hear the lyrics, they were so convinced this would be the perfect, rousing song. Sold on a pack of lies, a bit like Brexit, and Trump himself.”

Boyle has a new record out in the Spring. ‘Bairns of the Revolution’ is an album of covers and tributes to her favourite recording artists. Other tracks include The Angelic Upstarts’ Last Night Another Soldier, David Bowie’s Saviour Machine, and The Sex Pistols’ Who Killed Bambi? Of the latter, Boyle said, “I thought that was a nice one for Donald’s sons. Maybe him and Theresa May could run through National Trust properties, shooting peasants while the Prime Minister sells off the country.”

So What! Lyrics at Genius.com

*None of this is true.

The planets orbiting my mind

THE WRITER’S LIFE

In the beginning there was the Big Bang, when subatomic particles split in two, and each retains a quantum link to its counterparts spread all around the universe. Each and every thing in the cosmos is linked to every other. It’s a matrix the mere concept of which blows the mind somewhat, but when you can dream lucidly, you’re connected to that network and have the freedom of the universe. It’s pure science, and it’s the stuff which can trouble an enquiring and expanding mind.

mind-universeThe human brain contains a multi-dimensional universe within, according to latest research (Core Spirit)

I don’t think the world has been at a more pivotal point than the one we find ourselves in now. Not far from now are two very different worlds, not unlike our own. They’re worlds I see more clearly after my recent depressive episode, which culminated in a mini breakdown at the weekend. Thankfully my adopted kid sister caught my fall.

In one world, a third global conflict wiped out half the human and animal population, and those who are left face a slow death from radiation poisoning. Future historians may conclude that it was a war founded on lies, like Brexit and the election of President Trump before, which had sewn the seeds of war.

The Russians hacked our democracy and influenced world politics, creating new alliances and divisions which were more suited to the longer-term Kremlin game. It made them the obvious place to point fingers of suspicion, and the ideal stooge to the UK plan.

The Salisbury poisonings were carried out by agents known to the UK security forces, but it was easy to blame Russia. The UK Prime Minister needed a distraction from the mess of Brexit, perhaps hoping that our EU partners would suggest simply reversing the UK’s withdrawal, given the importance of alliances in a world of geopolitical turbulence. Plan B was to hasten partnerships with the USA in a post-Brexit world. The alleged Russian chemical attack in Syria was a gift.

Theresa May’s spouse is a shareholder in BAE, and stands to gain financially from any British involvement in future conflicts. The decision to bomb the alleged chemical weapons facilities in Syria was made unilaterally by the Cabinet, “In the public interest”. Many thought that was why we have a Parliament and a democratic process of electing our representatives. But apparently that’s not the case and the Tories know better: The governing party which refuses to accept unaccompanied child refugees from the war zone, some of whom may have been orphaned by UK military action.

Now I predict further cyber meddling (imagine if internet access were held to ransom), and I wouldn’t rule out a chemical attack on home soil, blamed on Russia, but again, perhaps a smokescreen and a means to a government’s ends (“Conspiracy theorist” is a derogatory term applied to those who think differently).

Whether or not the situation in Syria escalates, Theresa May has what she needs for now: the “Special relationship” with the USA, paving the way for peacetime trade deals, relaxing of regulations, lowering taxes and wages. If Brexit does still go the distance, the UK will be little more than the 52nd US state.

When it comes to the US nuclear option, the commander-in-chief’s state of mind is the unilateral decision-maker, and here’s a contender for the world’s scariest fact: The US nuclear launch protocol lacks any safeguard of allowing another US official to countermand a presidential order.

That potential world not far from now, came about because humans became so inward-looking and insecure. It came from nations putting themselves first and looking backwards. From insecurity comes mistrust and conflict, and we have the weapons to enforce and defend our agenda.

In that world, we gave up. We opened our eyes and looked around us, at all we’d done: Invented AI and machines which could turn against us; polluted every part of the planet and all who live on it with micro-plastics; and developed weapons of mass destruction as deterrents, but which were dangerous in the wrong hands. If we’d invested in exploration instead, the power we harnessed in our bombs could have taken us to the stars, and to colonise other planets, lessening the burden on Earth. But that would have required co-operation and trust, which humanity lacks. We were stuck and it became an entire species’ suicide, and the genocide of all those we share the planet with.

And that’s where I was at, with my personal life. The world around me seemed to be ending, and although I got over the idea of ridding the planet of me, I was on the verge of giving up. I stopped writing and I withdrew, but trapped in my head, with so much going on inside and out, is not a nice place to be alone.

I felt like walking out on life, slamming the door, and muttering those last words: “Fuck you…”. Then I remembered I live alone and would have locked myself out.

There’s another world out there, where we realise there might just be hope and that we may not be too late to save ourselves and the planet. It’s a world where we create self-replicating nano machines to clear the planet of plastic pollution (although scientists have accidentally discovered an enzyme which feeds on plastic), and with our increased awareness of those whose planet we share, we might at least co-operate in a moral duty to clear up our mess. Then perhaps we can continue these alliances and use technology to start leaving the planet and exploring beyond ourselves.

I’ve decided to live in that latter world, where I can imagine hope as well as despair, write utopian as well as dystopian stories, and keep myself busy expelling all the thoughts in my head. It was contact with another human – my kid sister catching my fall – which changed my mind.

I highly recommend breaking the leash and biting into Steve Laker’s Delirium. He keeps producing deeply aware material and philosophical gems. People are often chained dogs sniffing stale ground, but in sobering moments during our bondage state, we can be masters of our own freewill and observers of life.

It takes creative voodoo to sit me down and give me a novel to read. It takes even more dark magic to get me excited about a fictional piece of work. I only respond to mental stimulation that puts me in a story. I want to feel the turmoil and go on the author’s journey; to taste the outcome.

There was something profoundly honest and unhinged in Steve Laker’s blog that pinned my eyes to the screen. The intrigue began in that moment. It’s so rare to find an author who is willing to write in a style that’s so vulnerable in order to give the gift of storytelling to his or her readers. If you like your mind massaged, start reading Steve Laker’s books and short stories. If you like your mind fucked, make sure you keep reading them all the way to the last word.

Goran Zivanovic, author of Acupuncture of the Mind.

When I get reviews like that, it’s worth writing on. One person from each of my real and virtual lives, were what re-connected the matrix of my mind.

Frankie says change future and past perspectives

THE WRITER’S LIFE | FLASH FICTION

I’ve just completed the third character prequel short story for Cyrus Song: That of Doctor Hannah Jones in the book, written by her as a teenager (to be published in a couple of weeks), as were the Simon Fry and Captain Mamba prequels (the latter with an extra human protagonist). The latter two were set in the 1980s, when I myself was a teenager, and Hannah’s story is c.2000. I’ve previously re-published stories here which I wrote around that time, when I was experimenting with writing in my late 20s. But I did also write a couple of stories when I myself was a teenager, back in the 1980s, and this is one such.

Adapted later for my anthology, and included as a story called ‘The Message’, this is the original, with just the names of Presidents changed. In 1985, I imagined a world 40 years ahead, where America had split, ceding one half to Russia. As world politics has changed (although not a great deal), the same threats remain and others have emerged.

My vision when Frankie Goes to Hollywood sang Two Tribes, was of a future world split roughly between two polar mindsets: That of the capitalist right wing, and of the co-operative left. It was a very simplified scenario, and the story was for a flash fiction English Literature homework assignment, for stories of 500 words or fewer. Essentially, this is how I saw the world, ten years from now, thirty years ago…

Frankie-Goes-To-Hollywood-resize-2

FRANKIE SAYS RELAX

The time was 23.59, as it had been for eight years since it was moved one minute further towards Doomsday. After Trump, the former USA was split roughly between the new Pacific United States and the Democratic Republic of America. In 2020, the DRA elected its first president, Clinton. In 2024, she was replaced by Obama, now heading for a certain second term.

The left wing media taunted the right, pointing out how much more evolved they had become, first under Clinton, and latterly Obama, who would have been the former USA’s first female and black female presidents respectively. They accused the right of fake news and subliminal advertising, and mocked them for their conservatism, concentrating resources on military defence, where the DRA had introduced a Universal Basic Income and budgets were concentrated on education, exploration and discovery.

Sebastian Lem stared at the flickering screen in front of him, as the F.R.A.N.K.I.E computer completed its calculations. It was ten years ago that Lem had been sifting through terabytes of data and found the telltale blip that was to signal the outset of a search for his Holy Grail: First contact with an extraterrestrial intelligent race. Two tribes could change.

Further analysis of the signal revealed patterns that almost certainly confirmed it as having an artificial source, and the SETI community grew excited.

Lem travelled Europe and the Americas consulting with mathematicians and astronomers from the Independent Collective, a loosely-formed, resource-sharing group of SETI scientists, operating outside of the corporate constraints of the mainstream scientific community, for the advancement of the sciences for the benefit of all.

The financial rewards were poor compared to the conformist scientific community, and ad-free accommodation scant. But the Indies’ co-operative nature afforded him free berth with his peers whilst he travelled, and his hut looked out onto the real world, only slightly blighted by the McDonald’s logo, occupying its three-month tenure on the surface of the moon as it was beamed from Earth.

Lem’s screen blinked and displayed an image, blurred and indecipherable. He zoomed out and it began to become clearer. As he scrolled upwards and zoomed outwards, a word manifested at the top of the image: ‘Trust’ in large, red letters.

Further and further he zoomed out and eventually the whole image was contained within the screen:

Trust…”

Trust Tiffany”.

Trust Trump again.”

© Steve Laker, 1985 and 2017.

My books are available on Amazon, and can be ordered from most book retailers.

To make science fiction reality, simply imagine

DEAR DIARY

Despite mankind’s technological advances, much of life remains in the 20th Century. Much that we made then is becoming redundant, obsolete, or simply ‘old-fashioned’: The internal combustion engine, fossil fuels, factories and farming. Our politics are certainly arcane, based on unfair electoral systems, political skewing by finance or fake news, and for the most part, disconnected from the electorate, many of whom live in perpetual poverty or ignorance, which aren’t mutually exclusive. We need to evolve, and we have the tools of change to hand…

CyberPunk Hammock
Image: Khang Lee

There is good to be made from what we have, and we only have to look at history to see where we went wrong, or need to change our ways. Everything we need to make big changes, is around us already. The problem for contemporary politics, is it’s all a bit radical. But for radical, see long-game. This one’s mainly about where we live:

Recently I wrote of an idea to levy a new social tax on the collection of personal data, then to use the revenue raised to finance a universal basic income. To cries of ‘It can’t be done!’, I ask, why not? Like all big ideas, it needs a lot of work to implement, but the resources are readily-available. If big companies really do have altruistic humanitarian ideals, even they have to admit that global corporate domination will eventually be limited by the size of a planet and its population. Sustained economic growth (the shareholders’ ideal) on a planet which is not growing, will surely mean an eventual environmental limit is reached (assuming such things remain important, and that sustainable really does mean that: the long-game).

We’re already witnessing a technological shift, with a far greater long-term impact than the industrial revolution. Humans are being made redundant by machines. In factories, robots have replaced many humans, and of the latter who remain, most are robots by proxy of AI monitoring. Artificial intelligence is encroaching on the jobs of the mind too: Doctors, accountants, and even some areas of law. So humans are going to need a longer period of (free) education, to gain the qualifications needed for the remaining jobs, which (for now) are the preserve of humans.

But as humans become more redundant, they have more spare time, and for many this is spent in misery and poverty. The problem was, mankind made robots, at the same time as robots wanted to become humans. In a few years in some of my darker sci-fi stories, that situation could turn on its head (AI is one of the greatest threats to our race, and Stephen Hawking and others agree). Now, we need another shift, before everything settles into something we really wouldn’t want to be, or to live in.

A universal basic income would solve problems of housing and poverty. In all of this utopian thinking, we have to disregard entitlement mentality. At a human level, I believe it’s the basic entitlement of an individual in a civilised society, to have shelter, warmth and food. We also have to hope that the recent rise of the right in politics isn’t something the quieter left has lost sight of. Given the right social and economic foundations, there need not be many dissenting voices in a society.

A new approach might be to start with a concept like public luxury and private sufficiency. It’s a mindset, and a monumental shift in indoctrinated thinking, but like all big ideas, it requires different thinking, and promotes discussion. I’m trying to find ways we can all live together.

Where we are, there isn’t enough physical or environmental space for everyone to enjoy private luxury. Private luxury creates a border, it removes or closes spaces, creating deprivation. Public alternatives are usually poor in comparison, even in the places they’re provided. But nevertheless, public parks, playgrounds, sports centres and swimming pools, galleries, theatres and cinemas, including some very fine examples of each, create space for everyone, at a fraction of the cost.

There is the system of common ownership, where public assets aren’t sold off and managed by a private market, nor the state, with such assets owned instead by communities, in the form of commons (much like we know public ‘commons’ now). In its truest form, a commons is a non-capitalist system, which controls a resource in perpetuity, for the shared and equal benefits of its members. Like many other leftist, centrist and radical (and anarchist) ideas, it’s one which has been operated successfully in other countries, notably the Nordic states.

The gross imbalance in housing could be addressed with the introduction of a tax as radical as the one proposed on personal data, and again this would be a social tax, specifically, a Land Value Taxation. A form of this already exists, with ground rents on leasehold properties, which is open to abuse and used as a cash cow to milk funds from the economy and hide them abroad. If this right to charge rent on ground was returned to sovereign control, or communities, then the rent collected would be retained within whichever system, national or local, to fund public services, or to develop communities further. It’s a politics of belonging, which is the political system I became involved in when I was homeless.

Whatever the value of this, political or otherwise, I’ve written it in the hope that it might be read and perhaps discussed further by others. But surely there’s something to talk about here, in a nice, lefty way, rather than reactively kick it into the long grass in ignorance. These ideas and others, of my own and many more besides, require big thought, including at a political level. We can make a change, even with what we have now.

But then humans are a species which is dependent on the milk of another, so it could be an evolutionary growth stunt, like when a kid gets to the point where things are so interesting that it takes longer to move on. I’m trying to find answers. I’m trying to solve problems.

I’ve got this brain that I found. And I’m trying to find out what it’s for and what it does.

Fact or fiction, Earth is the organic computer designed by Deep Though to find out why the answer is 42. We’re all part of that. All we need to do, is keep talking.

A book critic recently commented of my sci-fi novel, Cyrus Song: “Who knows—if you’re looking for the Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything, you might just find it here, or in the ‘Cyrus Song’ of our planet. In the meantime, taking Steve Laker’s and Stephen Hawking’s advice, we all need to ‘keep talking’, and as long as there are books like these—keep reading.”

The Tory plan for new housing: a social tax on climate change

POLITICS | COMMENT | SATIRE

It’s satirical, but it’s not particularly funny. As a science fiction writer, I look at many Utopian and near future dystopia scenarios, some dependent only upon a butterfly effect which could already be gathering motion, unknown to us. Sometimes I have to take a short break from fiction, so that none of my stories cross over unwittingly (even though crossovers are one of my trademarks).

theresa_may_conference_idojwi

In a radical plan to tackle the housing crisis in London, the Conservatives are quietly pushing through new legislation, which wasn’t announced at the recent party conference in Brighton. Theresa May insists she did announce it, but it was when she’d lost her voice, and the whole Tory vision was collapsing around her on stage.

The changes are two fold: New housing built underground, paid for with a new social tax on climate change. Whether or not the announcements were heard at conference, this journalist was given a copy of the PM’s speech:

I have seen Jeremy Corbyn’s Labour manifesto on housing and a social tax on personal data, and I wonder what the leader of the opposition has been smoking (smile, then look to audience for approval). London has a housing crisis, and with so many people in one place, tensions are bound to develop. It is unacceptable that the wealthy people of the capital, should have to witness, daily, what the poor have done to themselves (sad face). Their unsightly housing is a blemish on the otherwise rich tapestry of London boroughs like Kensington and Chelsea, and Westminster. We tried to make the pauper housing more aesthetically pleasing, by cladding high rise towers. We did so in a cost-efficient way, saving money, so that the wealthy weren’t squeezed too hard. And look what happened (sadder face).

So we plan to build housing for the poor underground, out of sight. There is not much of London which we can build up from, so the only way now, is down. This will solve the problem of homelessness, and ensure that wealthy tax payers aren’t troubled by those people. Out of sight, out of mind (look rad, and down with the people).

Of course, big ideas need big finance, and it is unfair to tax the top-rate taxpayers any more than they are squeezed almost beyond their means already. So another way to keep the poor underground, is with a climate tax. Quite simply, they will pay a new dynamic tax, depending on the weather. If it’s a nice, sunny day out, those people should pay to enjoy what the rich have to earn, so that they can build their mansions above ground. We might give them a rebate on really miserable days, when no-one really wants to go out anyway (check audience reaction). We could let them see a sunset or sunrise for free on bank holidays (smile sincerely).

They’ll be completely self-sufficient underground, and we’ll give them all the facilities they need: We’ve already partnered with Coral and Wetherspoons, and someone’s bound to open a Londis down there (good for the economy and ethical companies). They’ll have no problems with employment, as the wealthy residents of London will ignore planning laws on digging down, to make luxury basements in their houses. If they hit an underground poor area while they’re constructing, they can hire slaves (check audience again, then decide whether or not to mention further benefit cuts). As the owners of the land, we will give them title to all which is below their property. It’s joined-up government, with all departments working together (air punch).

We caught up with Theresa May later, to ask her about the rumours of a disagreement between her and the foreign secretary, Boris Johnson. “The foreign secretary,” she said, “is behind me, just like the rest of my cabinet.”

Johnson contacted this blog to ask, “What the fuck were you talking to the mad witch about?” Told of her comment that she valued him as a cabinet colleague, Johnson replied: “I’m just waiting for the right moment to shaft her. It’ll be like fisting the old turkey at the Bullingdon Club. Is this thing on?” We pointed out that the foreign secretary had called us, then he hung up.

Later, we smoked a joint with the boy Jeremy who said, “We’ll tax and regulate this stuff, and it’ll be legal, first for medicinal use, then probably for recreation. You won’t believe how much we get through at shadow cabinet meetings.” Asked about Theresa May’s latest plans, he outlined those of the Labour party: “Yes, big ideas need big money, and we’ve found a way to make a load of new money just appear. We’re proposing a new social tax to be levied on personal data. It’s a return of power to the people, where the internet giants fund a universal basic income, solving poverty in a stroke. Between us and the Tories, the British public just need to look at these new policies and decide which works best in the long term. Do you grow this yourself?”

None of the above is true, probably.