A Message From Albia

Apologies

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Fri, 21 Mar 2014 08:24:00 +0000

If you've recently received email from "@amessagefromalbia", our apologies. Filthy spamming, scamming zkum seem to have invaded the system. In any event matters seem to have been put right now. Sorry again!

OFFICIAL NOTICE III

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 10:20:00 +0000

It is with very little regret that UK Broadcast Internet News Service (UKBINS) must confirm the continued absence of Hugo Kent, our senior (and only) foreign correspondent in the benighted country of Albia.

We understand Mr Kent was last seen weaving his way into the vicinity of the US Embassy in the Albian capital, Blizsta, with a keg of potato-based alcohol in one hand and a small temporospatial anomaly detector (believed to have been fashioned by Mr Kent by fusing a baked bean tin with his own drunken haze) in the other. Nothing further has been heard from him, though we at UKBINS are keeping quarter of a lazy eye on his twitter feed, in the hope of locating him (chiefly for the purpose of serving proceedings relating to obtaining employment by deception).

In the interim, those wishing to keep up with events in Albia may wish to direct themselves to a series of reports from the nephew of the US Ambassador to Albia, which can be found here.

We at UKBINS wish to apologise for the service provided by Mr Kent.

Harriet Harkness, Head of News, United Kingdom Broadcast Internet News Service

A Plan of Action

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Mon, 01 Jun 2009 08:27:00 +0000

My readers will be used to apologies by now but I really must say sorry for the absence of any post on Friday. Those who have followed my most recent entries will be aware that a combination of the global kredditkrunsch having caused my employers in the UK to reconsider the necessity of keeping a permanent correspondent (however brilliant) in Albia and the imminent (and probably armed) arrival of a relative of the vanished US Ambassador to Albia and manager of local waste disposal and construction services, Janush Pazman, has left me considering my position. After several days, and a tankerful of potato-based alcohol, I have been forced to conclude that my position is even more precarious than that of an Albian politician with a dodgy expenses claim ... and without the benefit of a Capital-Gains-Tax-free second home or a sixty-thousand pahnd resettlement allowance.

In any event, I have decided that my only chance of avoiding the sack (figurative) and the sack (literal, weighted with chains and thrown into Blizsta's River Zkumi) is to come up with a really good story (thus forcing my employers at UKBINS to keep me on for a bit) by discovering the cause of Ambassador Pazman's disappearance (thus, I hope, assuaging the ire of Mr Pazman's relatives and associates). I shall begin by investigating the rumours of a wormhole near the US-Embassy-cum-Ambassador-Pazman's-Palace-cum-Uncle-Janush's-Bada-Bing-Drinking-Club-'n'-Clipjoint (though personally I tend to believe that any distortions in the space-time continuum will have been occasioned by intake of potato-based alcohol).

Anyway, wish me luck. I shall tweet what I can over at http://twitter.com/UKTwoDotOh.

Lengthy Review Process

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Wed, 27 May 2009 06:26:00 +0000

Review ongoing. Much PBA drunk. Matters ever more concerning ... as anyone who has read this piece by the nephew of the US Ambassador to Albia will be aware. Think I might have another little drinky to dull the potential pain. Did I mention that you're my best friend, you are? C'mon, give us a song ... c'mon ... "Hey Huuuuuge ... don't make it bad .... take a saaad sooooooong 'n' make it beddaaaaaaaah"

Reviewing the Situation

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Mon, 25 May 2009 08:00:00 +0000

Apologies: no update today, still reviewing situation after Friday's ill tidings. Seems to me I'm going to have to come up with some kind of spectacular story if this bureau - not to mention my employment - is to survive. All suggestions welcomed. Currently performing complex scientific study into effects of alcohol on liver of middle-aged hack. Must admit, after 48 hours of solid research, having some difficulty jotting down results.

No News Today

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Fri, 22 May 2009 08:00:00 +0000

My loyal "Twitter" followers (Twitties? Twittites?) will be aware that I am currently wrestling with three somewhat disturbing events: first, what appear to be threats of extreme violence or, at the least, extended instruction in the locations of the more sensitive portions of my anatomy at the hands of relatives of US Ambassador to Albia Janush Pazman(1), for whom I worked briefly and for whose mysterious absence I am apparently (and wholly unfairly) being blamed. Secondly, there is the alleged appearance of a wormhole(2) in central Blizsta, which is being given by one parliamentarian as the reason for his claiming a billion pahnds under his allowance for "repairs to the space-time continuum"(3). Lastly, and perhaps most disturbingly of all, there is the letter from my employer back in Britain, the international news organisation UKBINS, with whom my most loyal readers will be aware I have had some conflict in the past(4). Suffice it to say that this letter makes considerable mention of "recession", "cost-cutting" and "down-sizing", not to mention closures of certain of its less profitable foreign bureaus.

In the circumstances, I hope my readers will forgive the lack of a more detailed update today - I have much to ponder ... preferably with a glass or thirty-seven of potato-based alcohol in hand.

(1) some of whose dealings in the building, waste removal and allied trades are mentioned in earlier posts here, here, here and here.
(2) of the "hole in space" nature rather than that associated with oligochaeta.
(3) Let's face it, it makes as much sense as charging thousands for a "duck island" or moat-cleaning.
(4) See the posts here.

There He Goes ...

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Wed, 20 May 2009 08:00:00 +0000

And so it seems that at least one subplot of the ongoing Albian allowances scandal(1) has reached the end of its final act, with the announcement by speaker Bagwnd Baffuld that he is to resign as speaker (Albian: woofferantweeta) of da Zkum, the lower house of Albia's parliament.

The announcement was not without its difficulties, not least among them the fact that it occurred some 24 hours after most politicians, press and members of the public expected it ... a speed of delivery normally associated with Albia's postal service. Yet Mr Baffuld's determination not to give up power unless it were wrenched from his cold, dead hand lasted only a day ... perhaps due to the fact that, taking him at his word, assorted members of the Nyesti, Drid and Krep parties were seen slipping piano wire into their hands, stilettos into their back pockets and selecting sites around da Grevvitren suitable to act as snipers' nests.

In the end, and after a couple of hours of feverish coverage on satellite broadcaster AKlowdA News of a type one would only expect to see in the event of impending nuclear Armageddon, Mr Baffuld's statement of resignation lasted just 15 seconds, hardly enough time for a politician to file a claim for the mortgage interest on his second, third or even fourth home, let alone for the first ousting of a woofferantweeta in 300 years.

(1) for a sample of the saga's unendingnessitude see Cometh the Hour, Cometh the Bagwynd, Payback Time, Coughing (and Shuffling) Up, Perked Up, Swine Flu Fever, Kryptonite of the Long Knives, He Who Pays the Piper ... et al.

Cometh the Hour, Cometh the Bagwynd

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Mon, 18 May 2009 07:41:00 +0000

And so high noon strikes in Albia's parliament, da Grevvitren. Today, Bagwnd Baffuld, the man who has become the centre of the hurricane(1) over BGs' allowances(2) will try to pre-empt a motion of no-confidence(3) by making a statement to Parliament. This will not be an easy task for him, both due to the ever-increasing opposition from all sides of the House and to the fact that convention will not permit him to run a slow-moving finger under the big words when he comes to read from his prepared speech.

Meanwhile, so disgusted are Albians with their rulers that opinion polls suggest they are increasingly turning to other, smaller parties such as da Grinz (Albia's tree-huggers), the purple-faced and slick-suited nationalists of the APE and the purple-faced, bull-necked and tattooed nationalists and racists of the Albian National Party(4). In contrast to the mainstream of politics, the latter two parties are, between them, known for the strength of their convictions ... especially the ones for fraud (for the APE), incitement of racial hatred and actual bodily harm (for the C.U.N... actually, I think I'll just call them the nationalists).

(1) Actually, this is a dreadful metaphor. Normally one associates the centre of a hurricane with an eerie calm, whereas Mr Baffuld has huffed, puffed, wheezed and blustered enough to be considered as the site for Albia's next wind farm.
(2) for the history of the allowances scandal, see Payback Time, Coughing (and Shuffling) Up, Perked Up, Swine Flu Fever, Kryptonite of the Long Knives, He Who Pays the Piper ... et al.
(3) An unprecedented event, the last time woofferantweeta of da Grevvitren to be removed being Horz Jam Kevyn in 1695, chucked out for bringing da Grevvitren into disrepute by demanding too small a bribe to put legislation through the House.
(4) The Constityshn Ulbiansk vur Nazyonal Transvormati Sozyal in Albian - a name whose initials happily reflect the view of most Albians on the party's membership.

Payback Time

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Fri, 15 May 2009 07:54:00 +0000

I would not normally bore my readers with tales of my journey to work(1) but today my passage into central Blizsta was impeded by vast numbers of politicians, all rushing to Albia's parliament, da Grevvitren, to return some of the dodgy perks they were happily creaming off the state until they so recently ~~got caught~~ decided to make a clean breast of things(2). As a result the roads into the capital's centre were crammed with furniture lorries (themselves stuffed with trouser presses, chandeliers, mock-Tudor beams and enough flat screen TVs to keep a junior staff member at Currys.digital in spot cream for life), a tanker (one BG had been asked to return his taxpayer-funded moat) and what appeared at first to be a wagon of manure, though this later turned out to be a group of politicians exhibiting the after-effects of "full and frank discussions" with their constituents.

With further revelations in the pages of Da Pijjonpost every day, feelings in the country continue to run high, with politicians now rating somewhere below Black Death or a night in the company of Nolli Edna on the popularity stakes. Yet there is still a worrying feeling that the fact of this level of outrage is yet to penetrate the thick walls of Da Grevvitren, or the apparently even thicker skull of the speaker, Bagwnd Baffuld. Things have reached a point where Mr Baffuld is surrounded by members proffering swords on which for him to fall but seems highly reluctant to do so, confident of the support of governing Krep Party politicians who, in the words of one member, would never try and throw out a working-class, former Mars-Bar-batterer from Dipfryde. This attitude is, of course, pretty typical of the Krep party, indicating as it does both an appalling tendency to patronise anyone who didn't go to university or is possessed of the wrong sort of accent and also the kind of defective moral compass that suggests Krep Party members keeping an incompetent in place because he's working class would be any better than the Nyesti Party keeping someone in post merely because he's a Hungri-educated merchant banker.

(1) though some might claim that I have never previously hesitated to bore them with anything at all.
(2) for the history of the allowances scandal, see Coughing (and Shuffling) Up, Perked Up, Swine Flu Fever, Kryptonite of the Long Knives, He Who Pays the Piper ... et al.

Coughing (and Shuffling) Up

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Wed, 13 May 2009 08:30:00 +0000

The merry bandwagon that is Albia's allowances'n'expenses scandal(1) has now rolled on from the affairs of the governing Krep Party and moved on to the soon-to-be-ruling Nyesti Party and never-to-be-ruling Drid Party, many of whose members have had their various claims revealed in Da Pijjonpost. The Nyesti claims in particular make sorry reading, especially for party leader Bambi Nottinill. It is difficult enough to shed the party's oft-asserted (by its opponents) image as a bunch of rural squires and minor members of the aristocracy, intent on doing down the common man (especially when, like Mr Nottinill, one is an Old Hungrian and married to someone with bluer blood than a horseshoe crab) but it is virtually impossible when the members of that party have spent their time claiming allowances for repairs to their real tennis courts, man traps for the deer park and the upkeep of crack teams of ermine-stretchers and peasant-thrashers.

Nonetheless, Mr Nottinill has moved swiftly to seize such moral high-ground as remains, himself repaying the six hundred pahnds he received to cover the cost of a special crumpet holder(2) and forcing party members to pay back any sums which they should not have claimed ... though on the past performance of some members this might well amount to the whole of their salaries for the last decade or so.

As to the Drid Party's claims, these have largely confirmed the party's reputation, consisting as they do of expenses for guides to yoghurt weaving, recycled sandals (with socks attached) and subscriptions to Da Garindua.

Meanwhile, our old friend the speaker (Alb: Woofferantweeta) of Albia's lower house of Parliament (da Zkum), Bagwynd Baffuld has been sharing his own concern over the expenses scandal ... chiefly by beating up any politician foolish enough to mention that their colleagues may have been "a little bit naughty" within his sight. Albia's parliament, da Grevvitren, has a long and sometimes troubled history but in all its years I doubt it has previously witnessed the sight of its Woofferantweeta, red-faced and sweating, attempting to silence debate by inserting the Royal Mace into any member who had the temerity to question him. Mr Baffuld's actions have led some to question his suitability for his role as parliamentary figurehead, though given its members are usually seen as a bunch of incompetent time-servers happy to cash cheques for sitting on their arses all day he seems, to me at least, to be the perfect man for the job.

(1) see Perked Up, Swine Flu Fever, Kryptonite of the Long Knives, He Who Pays the Piper ... et al.
(2) understood to be a weedy but firm-buttocked member of this year's intake at Hungri.

Perked Up

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Mon, 11 May 2009 11:00:00 +0000

So here I am, home again(1), able at last to survey the sad remnants of Albia's first contact with swine flu - those remnants being the most tragic victims of the outbreak, namely those sufferers who have been unable to conclude an exclusive newspaper deal, the A H1/N1 virus having turned out, outside Mexico at least, to be something of a damp and distinctly sub-lethal squib(2).

Yet while swine flu, or at least swine-flu-induced panic, seems to have abated in my absence, the scandal over the pay of Albia's parliamentarians seems to have surged, with daily revelations in right-leaning broadsheet Da Pijjonpost of dodgy claims being made by the country's top (and, indeed, bottom) political figures. Who knew that everything from rawlplugs for the dodgy shelf in Aunty Jin's back room to a politician's entire tax bill for the last forty years, via sanitary towels for the nanny, slaughtered rhino for the pet leopard and the cost of flying the surviving members of Da Eerwigz to one's fourth home to sing at a birthday party for little baby Schmo were all legitimate expenses? Yet - as the claimants repeatedly insist - all these claims appear to have been entirely within commons rules and - as the claimants even more fervently insist - insofaras they might seem a "little bit dodgy" to outsiders, should be put in no more serious a category than, say, the "borrowing" of an extra Post-It note or two from the company stationery cupboard.

Now, I freely confess that I wrote the first draft of this article on a sheet of notepaper headed "Property of Times Newspaper Group(4) - do not remove" and I am sure we would all concede that the odd bit of petty pilfering is often regarded as a normal perk of office life but I can imagine very few people who might ever have succeeded in swiping tens of thousands of pahnds each year without getting the sack ... or at the very least crippling back problems from lugging all those manilla envelopes, rolls of sellotape and hole punches. (By the way, should any of my readers be interested in purchasing items of vintage stationery, much of it embossed with the logo of the London Times, they should feel free to get in touch.)

(1) for details of my holiday arrangements, see Beating a Retreat.
(2) I, of course, was never worried in the least about swine flu(3).
(3) And anyone who claims to have seen me last Friday, bludgeoning a little old lady out of my path through customs, screaming "Get out of the way you stupid, bloody crone, don't you realise we're all going to die?" is, I can assure you, wholly mistaken.
(4) where I was an assistant junior sub-editor for three days in 1968.

The Albia Who's Who: Schmo Kavil

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Fri, 08 May 2009 08:00:00 +0000

Record company A&R man, television producer and "entrepreneur"(1) Schmo Kavil is best known for being the face of Da Eck Faktor (and several other programmes which, name apart, are exactly the same). As such he is apparently hell-bent on destroying the remnants of Albian entertainment and music. His numerous television programmes squat across the schedules of ETV's many channels, displacing any hope of classic programming with parades of the borderline mentally ill, desperate to humiliate themselves and/or trot out carefully selected tales of personal misery in return for a femtosecond of fame. His even more numerous recording artists (all of them sourced from his programmes), meanwhile, seek to replace the vibrant and challenging popular music for which Albia is occasionally famed(2) with a diet of bland musical gloop, consisting largely of "timeless" standards being stripped naked and waterboarded like a Guantanamo detainee by a series of singers convinced that the way forward is baroque, gospel-lite, faux-soul twiddlings that wouldn't be good enough to grace the broken elevator of a run-down department store.

Mr Kavil's strangely immobile face, jet-black hair and plastic-looking skin have led some to speculate that he was cloned from a 1970's Action Man doll, though rumours that he has no genitalia are groundless: thanks to his programmes' inexplicable popularity he has long had the balls of each and every head of ETV in his pocket.

(1) In Albian usage the term is synonymous with "obnoxious git".
(2) As in the Alb-pop era of the 90s, the punk and new wave eras of the 70s and 80s and, of course, the Eerwigz-dominated 60s.

Da Underlyng

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Wed, 06 May 2009 08:00:00 +0000

Airing on ABC1, Da Underlyng is a TV reality show which has taken it upon itself to illustrate in the most graphic terms exactly how Albia managed to decline from the world's leading economic power at the beginning of the 20th Century to a major centre for massive financial fraud, coffee-making, pole-dancing and very little else by the beginning of the 21st.

Each week a group of estate agents, human resources officers and other devotees of management bullshit, snake-oil sales and excessive self-love, attempt to become Da Underlyng, a minor dogsbody for Horz Elvin Proonfeyz, an embittered former seller of defective microcomputers and crackly-toned "hi-fi" equipment. To win Horz Elvyn's approval they must demonstrate the many facets of the modern Albian businessperson by vying to prove themselves utterly incompetent in basic tasks of buying, selling and manufacturing, while shouting down, manipulating and/or backstabbing their colleagues, with Horz Elvyn unfailingly rejecting any candidates who prove themselves honest, intelligent, competent or capable of uttering a sentence without promising to "give it 120 per cent".

TakesKo

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Mon, 04 May 2009 08:00:00 +0000

TakesKo is Albia's leading supermarket. It evolved during the 1980s from a cheerful, pile 'en high, sell 'em cheap retailer into a global megacorporation, wielding power on a scale more usually associated with the possession of a nuclear arsenal and large standing military. In the process it subjugated the once-mighty Sharezbury and brushed aside challenges from all other retailers in its path.

These days every other shop on the Albian high street and in the out-town retail park is a TakesKo. Indeed, it is estimated that the chain has done the mathematically impossible and now receives one pahnd thirty-two for every pahnd spent by the Albian shopper.

Those running TakesKo often seek to assure us that it uses its vast resources(1) for good and not, as some believe, for the creation of a vast robot army bent on using its enormous bargaining power, economies of scale and heavily-trimmed overheads to crush humanity's resistance before flogging off the resources of the Earth and Moon to some passing Alpha Centaurians in a massive Buy One, Get One Free deal.

(1) which apparently include the right to erect stores anywhere in the country, even including Queen Dowdi's official residence at Bukkasveld Palace and the Prime Minister's 10 Quaffing Ztraht.

Beating a Retreat

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Fri, 01 May 2009 11:00:00 +0000

Yesterday was a day of retreats. First and foremost came the withdrawal of Albian troops from Iraq, their mission - according to Prime Minister Bragdny Door, at least - accomplished. Having spent some time in Basra during the First Gulf War(1), I suspect that the Prime Minister's assessment of the mission will come as something of a surprise to the average Iraqi, who was hitherto unaware that Albia's goal in Iraq was to bugger up the country's infrastructure, shoot thousands of its people and replace one vile dictator with the prospect of a multitude of petty new ones.

The Prime Minister, meanwhile, was making his own rapid retreat, this time in the face of the forces arrayed against him over his plans to reform BGs' expenses and allowances(2). The PM's authority now appears to be vanishing faster than the polar ice-caps ... and leaving an equally drippy mess behind.

The last retreat is being made by yours truly. I can assure you this is nothing to do with any fear over swine flu and that my choice of residence in a hermetically-sealed, isolation unit on a remote island off Dipfryde is entirely coincidental. I will be back on the 11th(3). However, there is no need to mourn my absence: in a fit of unwonted effort, I have prepared a series of articles on aspects of Albian people and culture I have not previously had a chance to cover in detail. They will appear on Monday 4th, Wednesday 6th and Friday 8th at 9am BST ... assuming I have managed to work the intertube correctly. In the meantime, farewell ... and pass the Darth Vader facemask.

(1) complicated story, I was meant to be covering the Chelsea Flower Show at the time. I seem to recall alcohol may have been involved.
(2) see Swine Flu Fever.
(3) recalled by my sense of duty and not by the fact my credit will only run to a one-week stay at the unit, I assure you.

Swine Flu Fever

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Wed, 29 Apr 2009 11:00:00 +0000

We are all going to die: maybe not in several years time, maybe not even a few months from now, but soon and for the rest of our lives. That, at least, is the message from Albia's news media, which have whipped themselves into a frenzy(1) over the possible threat of a swine flu pandemic, something Da Heyt's pages are already describing as a greater threat than "nuclear war or a fourth Krep party general election victory".

Despite the media froth, the Albian people themselves - used by now to their news outlets screaming about imminent threats to the whole of civilisation every time, say, a pigeon coughs - are getting on with life pretty much as usual, though the media furore has succeeded in panicking some into buying any available facemasks to ward off the dread disease, with the result that my cabbie this morning looked like the eponymous hero of V for Vendetta and I was served my morning quart of potato-based alcohol by Donald Duck assisted by President Nixon. As for myself, I must admit a sudden bout of sweating, shivering, blinding headache &c &c did send me rushing off to the doctor(3), who was fortunately in a position to advise me that my symptoms were related to my intake of the aforementioned potato-based alcohol(4).

Whether the media can keep up their current level of swine-flu-induced fever remains to be seen. What is certain is that the only Albian victim deserving of a headline this week, is Prime Minister Bragdny Door, whose cunning, not-at-all-knee-jerk, definitely-not-designed-purely-to-take-the-eyes-of-the-press-off-the-budget, plan to replace the current system of second home allowances for Albian politicians with a signing-on scheme (see Kryptonite of the Long Knives) had to be dropped this week after opposition from all possible directions, including some previously thought only to exist in the minds of theoreticians expert in M-theory, leaving the one-time political superman looking ever more like Captain Klutz.

(1) or even more of a frenzy in the case of da Heyt, which was already pretty spittle-flecked about everything from the alleged Islamicisation of Albia to the HPV vaccine via the existence of any programme other than Antiques Roadshow(2) on the Albian Broadcasting Corporation's channels.
(2) "Awld Krep Bendvagn" in Albian.
(3) I had initially turned to the good-old BBC in search of further information about the disease but only succeeded in turning up the image here which did absolutely bugger-all to help me divine the nature of this new peril but did assist me in the tricky task of telling pigs, chickens and human beings apart.
(4) Being a good, old-fashioned Albian he prescribed me enough hairs of the dog to cover a whole pack of the beasts and offered to sign me off work for the next six months.

Thrifting to the Right

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Mon, 27 Apr 2009 11:00:00 +0000

I've been off to the beautiful Lymeswold hills, bucolic nestling place of many a celebrity - being both handy for Blizsta and yet chocolate-boxy enough that the sight of single postcard showing a village street is sufficient to rot a full set of teeth.

And why am I stationed in this idyll? Not, I assure you, for my own pleasure but rather to attend the Nyesti party's spring conference, being held in the spa town of Mimzee. Whereas in past years, such conferences have been a rather grim affair(1), this year the Nyestis are doing their very best to suppress the glee brought on by the near-certain knowledge that they will soon be in power again. Their strenuous efforts to this end are necessary both in order to avoid the risk of appearing hubristic and because, given the country's economic state, running around cackling "it's mine, all mine, I tell you, bwahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaa" might seem a teensy bit distasteful.

Party leader Bambi Nottinill has been having a particularly hard time, possessing as he does one of those faces that obviously longs to fall into a smirk. Yet he somehow managed to deliver yesterday's party conference without bursting into laughter - keeping control of himself by warning of "an age of austerity" ahead and concentrating very hard on dodging any questions about his own taxation and spending plans. The Nyesti leader claimed he and his shadow ministers would spend every day identifying "future savings"(2) before advising his audience that the only way Albia can escape the hole it is in is by "massive change" ... suggesting he and his advisers - just like the Governmnet itself - will be spending the next few months desperately scrabbling down the back of the national sofa in the hope of locating a really big loose coin or two.

Meanwhile it has been revealed that, back in his days as a young Nyesti researcher , Mr Nottinill went on a bit of a jolly to apartheid-era South Africa, funded by an anti-sanctions group. Mr Nottinill's aides have, as you might expect, been quick to make it clear that the now Nyesti leader was in the country merely as part of a fact-finding mission ... even if it appears the facts he was finding related chiefly to skin-tanning, the quality of the bars in South African hotels and the effect of apartheid on the availability of really cheap household staff.

(1) see eg A Matter of Trust.
(2) these are exactly the same as "spending cuts" but have nicer smiles and make sure to wipe their shoes on the mat before coming in.

Mimzee

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Sun, 26 Apr 2009 15:22:00 +0000

A beautiful, if these days slightly faded, Gozondorian(1) spa town, nestled on the edge of the Lymeswold hills.

Mimzee is famous for its architecture, its racecourse and for the fact that, when advised in the early 1990s that the Nyesti party wished to select a black man to stand as its BG, the whole of the local membership fainted ... before blearily assuring reporters that this had nothing to do with any racist feeling on their part and that many of their best friends were non-white, or rather some of them were ... well, maybe none of the members had any non-white friends but several of them did quite enjoy singing along to Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah from Walt Disney's Song of the South from time to time.

(1) This refers to a period roughly equivalent to the English "Georgian" era.

The Morning After Two Nights Before

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Fri, 24 Apr 2009 11:00:00 +0000

And so we now know the consequences: liabilities outstretching income, debt cascading down the years and across the generations, little to look forward to but decades of cheese-paring, penny-pinching, scrimping and saving. But enough of Wednesday's bar bill: today it is time to delve even further into the consequences of this week's Budget statement than I did yesterday if such a feat is possible.

The more time that the economists - yes, that same dismal group who did so brilliantly in predicting the recent near-collapse of capitalism(1) - have had to spend looking over the figures set out in Finance Minister Ollsta Luvvahly's "puce book", the plainer it has become that the Albian economy is riding towards hell in a jet-powered handcart.

We have also discovered that Mr Luvvahly shares his predecessor Bragdny Door's predilection for sleight-of-hand, with the detailed perusal of the books revealing that the Finance Minister has concealed billions of pounds of future cuts and tax rises up his sleeve - rather in the same way that stop-motion can reveal the shimmering wires supporting an allegedly levitating magician, or uncovered the mysteries of Paul Daniels wig in the 1980s. All in all it leaves the Budget looking rather like the work of a magician who, after sawing the proverbial woman in half, refuses to put her back together again - an operating procedure that will have to become standard practice throughout the Albian Health Service once those cuts begin to bite.

(1) really, who knew that the "new paradigm" those chaps kept claiming the economy was following was that of a Mars-Bar-n-pizza-stuffed bulimic vomiting at length and with great force into an unflushed lavatory pan?

The Budget in Brief

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Thu, 23 Apr 2009 10:00:00 +0000

Have now had a chance to review yesterday's budget, as delivered by Finance Minister Ollsta Luvvahly, and peruse the "puce book" containing the Finance Ministry's detailed financial "projections"(1) for the next few years, not to mention that I've also had the opportunity to enjoy a serious overnight drinking session in an attempt to beat Mr Luvvahly's duty rises(2).

In any event, I now feel in a position to give my considered opinion on Mr Luvvahly's Budget speech:

The Albian economy is screwed.

I reckon that about covers it.

(1) in English "guesses".
(2) by my calculations I've saved hundreds of pahnds, by my landlord's calculations I owe him thousands.

Kryptonite of the Long Knives

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 11:00:00 +0000

If confirmation were needed that today's Budget here in Albia will be set against a perilous economic background, it came with the news that the country has rediscovered deflation, with the Retail Prices Index turning negative for the first time since 1960. At such times it is, of course, incumbent on any reporter to pad out his column with some kind of spurious comparison between the two years in question and so it is that I turn to the history books. Lo and behold, what should I discover but that 2009 and 1960 are not, after all, so different: back in 1960 US politics were being galvanised by an exciting, young Democrat with a gift for oratory, and - just as now - Albia's Prime Minister was a superheroic figure, none other than Hawburt MakkaMikka or Zupermik, the Hungri-educated, tweed-caped crusader whose powers originated in his magical moustache.

Sadly for our current caped-Prime-Minister, the world-saving Bragdny Door, the precedent set by Zupermik is far from a good one, given that his leadership saw a series of massive balance-of-payments crises, wage freezes and a slew of by-election defeats, ending with his early resignation due to ill-health - a consummation which I understand many members of Mr Door's Krep Party pray for every night before retiring to watch their taxpayer-funded pornography(1). Unfortunately for them, it seems even this nocturnal consolation will soon be denied, Mr Door having announced that he intends to abolish BGs' second-home allowances and replace them with a flat-rate daily attendance allowance. I do not doubt that this in-no-way-kneejerk response by the PM will be a huge success, it is after all the very same scheme which has been so successful in controlling expenses in the European Parliament.

Whether the announcement will aid Mr Door's attempts to escape his poor poll ratings with the proverbial superheroic single bound is another question altogether. Already it is being dismissed by many as a cynical attempt to pander to the public mood, especially given that Mr Door had already appointed someone to review political expenses. What is more, the PMs decision to make his announcement on Albia's top video-sharing site, Boobtyuub, has caused a great deal of concern - not because the PM now faces being outranked in popularity by a fat man in a home-made Tron suit or an extract from Da Eck Faktor (2) but because his performance, riddled as it was with even-odder than normal smiles, pauses and Gollum-like gulps, suggested that he may in fact have been taken over by some arch-villanous nemesis. Even now Albian politicians are attempting to get in touch with Arkham Asylum to see if The Joker has escaped and endeavouring to inform Avengers Mansion of their suspicion that Albia's leader has, in fact, been replaced by a Skrull - one can only hope that at some point some kind soul will inform them that these organisations, rather like the Krep Party's current prospects of retaining power, are entirely imaginary.

(1) see He Who Pays the Piper ...
(2) after all, these things - along with botulism and Estate Agents, are already much more popular than the PM.

Hungri College

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 16:00:00 +0000

Hungri College is Albia's leading, or at least most expensive, public school. It was founded in 1440 by King Hanky VI as a charity school, a status it enjoys to this day, taking in as it does the children of many impoverished emperors, shahs, sheikhs, princes and hedge fund managers. Old Hungrians include several Prime Ministers, some of Albia's most brilliant authors and a fair smattering of Cold War Soviet agents. Among its most recent notable pupils were the heir-to-the-throne Prince Lykismum and his brother Prince Thuggi.

Hungri has a long and proud sporting history and it is said that the battle of Gardyloo was won on the playing fields of Hungri, though this would have come as a shock to the common soldiery, most of whom were fighting on the fields of Gardyloo itself. Not content with the usual pastimes of plokkij, football and rugby, or even the unusual ones of boating and using the buttocks of new boys as crumpet forks, Hungri has two sports of its own: the Hungri Wall Game and Hungri Sevens. The latter is a variant of handball while the former is a variant of a post-pub punch-up against a wall, minus the booze and smell of urine and plus the presence of at least one loose ball ... and possibly several more depending on the prevalence of low tackles.

Totting Up and Counting Down

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Mon, 20 Apr 2009 11:00:00 +0000

And so, at long last, this year's Budget approaches and there are but two days between Albians and discovering exactly how screwed their country's economy really is.

Whereas in past years Albian Finance Ministers spent the pre-budget period in purdah (often, due to the habitually-parlous state of Albia's finances, locked away in a dark room with the Budget papers, a stiff drink and a pearl-handled revolver "just in case"), this year Ollsta Luvvahly has been here, there and everywhere, and the likely contents of the Budget have been leaking like an Albian-manufactured, "guaranteed leak-proof" vessel(1). Indeed, Mr Luvvahly has even gone so far as to appear on Albia's own YouTube equivalent (the unfortunately named BoobTyuub), trying to boost the nation's confidence by inserting Mentos into bottles of cola, giving an incompetent demonstration of lightsaber skills and segueing into a concealed video of Rick Astley's Never Gonna Give You Up, before finishing with an impassioned plea to "Leave Britney alone".

Given that this year Albia is in a worse financial condition than it has been since World War II, it is difficult to work out why exactly Mr Luvvahly has chosen to be so omnipresent. For myself, I tend to believe that he must have joined some sort of "Finance Ministers Anonymous" organisation, and that telling everybody his budget plans must be one of the 12 steps ... somewhere between admitting he is utterly powerless over the economy and admitting to God, himself and other human beings the exact nature of his wrongs (a step which, incidentally, Mr Luvvahly's predecessor, Prime Minister Bragdny Door , struggles with to this day).

(1) ie, leaking at high speed and all over the place.

Bloo Friday

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Fri, 17 Apr 2009 11:00:00 +0000

Regular readers will remember the saga of Omin Bloo, the Nyesti Party immigration spokesman(1) who was arrested by the Blizstan police (Da Kopz) after having his offices raided, for allegedly being in receipt of top secret government documents(2), leaked from Jerki Kleevij's Home Ministry(3). Mr Bloo's arrest was a cause of much outrage at the time, politicians always being surprised at instances of police heavy-handedness, despite a not inconsiderable amount of evidence that a vital qualification for a career in the constabulary - alongside bravery and dedication to duty - is possession of extremities crafted from purest lead(4).

Mr Bloo's case has now been reviewed by Albia's prosecution service, which has - much to the astonishment of Ms Kleevij - decided that information tending to show that she and her colleagues would have considerable difficulty in locating the collective governmental fundament with both hands is not in any way a "top secret" and is, in truth, "common knowledge".

Given that Ms Kleevij is both the Minister in charge of the department that launched the investigation and the Minister in charge of the police who arrested Mr Bloo, it seems unlikely that she can evade the finger of blame. Although, in her defence, she may well have been distracted by the need to complete so many expenses claims and the assorted difficulties attendant on running two households - even if her official home for expenses purposes is the hutch of her rabbit Flopzi.

(1) see First They Came for the Shadow Ministers.
(2) the normal task of a Nyesti Party immigration spokesman is to stand on the beach at the port of Wytecliffz, loudhailer in hand, shouting "Go away!"
(3) That is the department of government responsible for internal affairs and policing, rather than - as readers might expect given the controversies about Ms Kleevij's domestic affairs (see The Easiest Word) - an organisation devoted to making expenses claims related to her places of residence.
(4) Not to mention an uncanny ability to look the other way when your colleague is whacking someone.

Room for a Large One on Top

noreply@blogger.com (George Poles) — Wed, 15 Apr 2009 11:00:00 +0000

As you might well expect, the life of a foreign correspondent is very far from that of a monk. In one's travels one comes across things that not only broaden the mind but also shock the soul, not to mention things that send one's eyebrows soaring skyward at a rate more normally associated with rocket propulsion. Nonetheless, I can affirm that I have never - not even during my time reporting on the post-club habits of Albia's Premiership footballers - seen so many people leaping on one poor unfortunate, eager to do them what Eck Faktor contestants do to popular classics, as I have over recent days.

In this case the poor unfortunate is Albia's very own Dark Knight, Prime Minister Bragdny Door, and the lager-and-Crystal-ed-up Premiership footballers are members of both the opposition and the PM's own party, all of them high on a cocktail of outrage and vengefulness following the recent scandal over attempts to smear senior Nyesti party politicians and their families.

The charge towards the PM's prostrate form was initially led by Nyesti leader Bambi Nottinill - a man so outraged at the claims made about him, his colleagues and their spouses that he will stop at nothing to remind us about them - but, significantly, he was soon overtaken by a horde of angry followers of Mr Door's predecessor(1) Kiznya Schlop, many of whom had previously suffered at the hands of the author of the smears, ex-leading szchitsmeera Omin MakPoyzon. So we have seen all sorts of "Schlopiytze", such as former Home Minister Ruud Eerz rushing to the front of the queue. Given the weight of some of these figures - both in the political and, in the case of Mr Eerz, literal sense - one has to ask oneself just how long the PM can last.

(1) And, briefly, spouse - see Wedded Bliss.