Brock-up: a clarification

Let me make myself perfectly clear.

The theft and internet publication of some emails that I have sent over the years to colleagues from the Paranoia Research Unit of the Tartan Thermos Department within Sunday Express University’s prestigious Faculty of Nostalgia were not only criminal acts and a violation of my civil rights but also might prove to be highly misleading if they fell into the wrong hands; as indeed they have.

‘The wrong hands’ in this case being anyone else’s but mine and those of a small coterie of highly-qualified extremist Xenophobes and social reactionaries.

Alas, not everyone is as ethical as we independent and dispassionate Right Wing political commentators are, and many of our unscrupulous and mendacious enemies have misrepresented these innocent materials to cast doubt on the unquestionable existence of a sinister and all-powerful worldwide cabal of Jews; Muslims; Frenchmen; Americans; Greeks; Turks; bankers; trade unionists; accordion players and Macaulay Culkin. Without understanding the subtle nuances that we authentic conservatives bring to the world in the form of The Light of the One and Only Truly True Truth, some of my mails may seem rather harsh and partisan (and not a little dishonest!) to the ignorant outsider; who turns out to be pretty much everyone else in the world.

Let me put my naïve readers’ minds at rest now with some context and explanation.

The most often quoted (and most misleading) email is the one in which the following words appear: “I fully intend to go down to Ten Downing Street and give Gordon Brown a badger enema.” Respectable froth-lipped ultra nationalists like me know that this isn’t to be taken literally. It’s a technical term for indicating one’s intention to send a strongly-worded letter of complaint to The Times.

Nor should the (admittedly unequivocal-seeming and pungent-sounding) phrase “I’m going to shove it up him so far he’ll be able to shave with his tonsils” be used to defame my forthright, accurate and incontrovertible opinions concerning the existence of the Secret Masters who rule our world from their top secret headquarters under the Vatican. It simply means that I have sincere reservations about the current administration’s macro-economic management and their unpatriotic relationship with the gnomes of Zurich, the elves of Reykjavik, and the deadly, mollusc-spitting leprechauns of Dublin.

I shan’t waste any more time repeating my earlier clarification of the perfectly innocent sentence: “And if he smiles that smug, just-boffed-his-sister smile that always cracks his face when he talks about the Lisbon Treaty, then it’s going up live, sideways, and coated with mustard.” If you don’t understand that it refers to putting up the Christmas decorations in the Senior Common Room by now…Well, then you’ll just never believe me.

Critics of the universal truth that moral and political perfection lie exclusively with the English middle classes of yesteryear have this week been making hay with my well-meant and accurate discussions of affairs of state. I can take the criticism personally with a bitter laugh at the calumnies of lesser men. (It’s my gentle modesty that prevents my genius becoming monstrous.) What I don’t want is the gutter press and the Internet taking these things so far out of their social and professional context that irreparable harm may come to the vital project of real conservatives everywhere – which is the mandatory and permanent return of the whole world to the manners and morals; the political and constitutional arrangements and the fashions and popular culture of the 1950s and the early 1960s.

Most hurtful of all is the allegation that the expression “And I’m going falsify evidence to make it look like the Liberal Democrats did it,” somehow implies that my intent was to mislead or otherwise disguise the truth. In fact, nothing could be further from the truth. Liberal Democrats have an important part to play in the inevitable return to the Old World Order, which is to sit forever on the Opposition benches in the House of Commons.

Try as they might, the enemies of sobriety and decency simply must not be allowed to get away with all this cheap point-scoring and the inference of spiteful intentions within my wholesome and staid words. The stakes are far too high for these irrational and malevolent forces to be given the merest iota of credibility.

Our programme must go on for life on Earth both to survive and to be worthwhile at all.

Let me remind you of its essential points;

# Men’s hair is to be decently short and women’s to be decently permed and bobbed.

# A worldwide programme must be set up to tarmac all lay-bys and roadside lunching areas to allow the safe and stable placement of folding chairs.

# Tax exempt status must be place on for all DIY goods and they must be properly renamed 'ironmongery' and 'plumbers’ supplies'.

# The immediate worldwide scrapping of all family cars which do not have substantial amounts of timber trim that contain at least as many varieties of rare and endangered tropical hard-woods as a social worker’s earring collection.

# All high performance and leisure motorcars are to carry the brand name Triumph and must be painted exclusively in British Racing Green or pillar-box red.

# All US television shows are to be banned except for the original Bewitched and I Dream of Jeannie which showcase to this day the finest period in American social history and which set a good example to the little ladies of how gracious life once was when they knew their place.

# Compulsory attendance at an act of Anglican worship on every Sunday is to be fit in between motor car polishing and a visit to the pub whilst the womenfolk prepare the roast.

# The elevation to the hereditary peerage of any Briton who believes that Home Alone is either an Italian mortgage or a folk song about a seafood-selling prostitute in Ireland’s capital city.

Don’t let the nostalgia sceptics end our cravatted and corduroyed stroll back to suburban greatness and rectitude. The narrow-mindedness is settled.