1) It’s like Sherlock, only set in Victorian times
A spectre is haunting Europe’s criminals – the spectre of Karl Marx, Consulting Detective!
Abandoning political philosophy, Marx and Engels decide to use their considerable intellects to solve crime instead. Each week, they’re brought in to solve a crime that has left the police baffled, and are able to solve it, by explaining that the crime was an inevitable result of living in a capitalist society and the bourgeoisie as a whole are responsible.
“Revolutionary, my dear Engels!”
“Karl, we like your manifesto, but all these long sentences and paragraphs are a bit nineteenth century, yeah? Could you Buzzfeed it up a bit?”
Eight Spectres That Are Haunting Europe
How Workers Everywhere Are Throwing Off Their Chains Using This One Weird Trick
Are You A Member Of The Proletariat? Find Out With This Test
Now, if someone’s got a time machine I can borrow, I’m pretty sure I can get at least one of these onto That Mitchell And Webb Look.
Important political question of the day: is Philip Hammond actually David Tennant with grey hair?
Does this mean that his pleas to protect defence spending are actually about protecting Britain’s share of the UNIT budget?
Hopes had been high that women would be allowed to achieve this status, however opponents had pointed out that the holy texts had made it perfectly clear that women were only allowed to direct if they were portrayed by Terry Jones in drag. The Forward in Farce group – which opposed women telling jokes, feeling their role is clearly defined in the sacred texts whilst rejecting Fawlty Towers as mere apocrypha – celebrated the result today.
However, a majority did vote in favour of the move, including overwhelming votes in the House of Upper Class Twits and the House of Gumbies. A majority of the House of Fans was in favour of the change, but did not achieve the two-thirds majority required under the rules (designed by the Silly Party).
“My brain hurts.” A member of the House of Gumbies said after the vote. “Other comedies have women directors, but not the Python? Need brain surgeon.”
In other news, the Church of England’s credibility has passed on, is no more, has ceased to be, has expired and gone to meet its maker. Bereft of life, it rests in peace. Its metabolical processes are of interest only to historians. It’s run down the curtain and joined the choir invisible.
(If this made no sense to you, watch the video below)
Earlier today, someone linked to this amusing Storify collection of James Delingpole exhibiting his usual debating style of blocking and ignoring anyone who dares criticise him – especially when they commit the ultimate sin of using facts to challenge him. Normally, Delingpole’s someone I ignore – until the final revelation of his role as a Morrisian agent provocateur proving just how much crap you can get published if you’re willing to ignore facts and appease the rich and powerful, he’s of no real interest to me – but something about this caught my attention.
Namely, Delingpole’s Twitter avatar: Not something I’d normally care about, but this sparked off a memory in me of another image that looked somewhat similar. Specifically, one from Charlie Brooker’s TV Go Home book:
Probably only me who spots the resemblance, but the idea of Delingpole harming himself with cutlery while advertising Downright Average Thick British Viewer Day seems kind of apt.
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