Six ways in which the Tories qualify as extremists, under their own laws

MICHAEL Gove, better known as The Government, has redefined extremism so he can ban any political group he dislikes, including the Tories, on the following grounds:

‘Undermine, overturn or replace the UK’s system of liberal parliamentary democracy’

Does prorogation in August 2019 ring any f**king bells, Michael? No? Gove was there, chancelling the Duchy of Lancaster, as the Johnson administration decided to sidestep inconvenient Brexit scrutiny by suspending parliament until the EU deadline had passed. The Supreme Court ruled it had an ‘extreme’ effect on the ‘fundamentals of democracy’. Sound familiar?

Invoking Article 50, October 2016

Then perhaps Gove recalls a few years earlier, as justice minister under a different failure of a prime minister, attempting to trigger Article 50 without the annoying involvement of parliament. That went to court too. You lost then, too. Remember? The paper your vile ex-wife works for called the judges ‘enemies of the people’?

‘The promotion or advancement of an ideology based on hatred or intolerance’

Then there are the general elections of May 2017 and December 2019. Staying with the Mail, it announced 2017’s election with the headline ‘Crush the saboteurs’ which is trés Soviet Russia. Bloody House of Lords. Bloody Remoaners making up half the electorate. You hated those bastards, didn’t you, standing in the way of your big Brexit win? Were you, perhaps, intolerant of their views?

Suella Braverman, 2018-2022

Perhaps Mr Gove remembers this former colleague and the loathing that twisted her face whenever confronting cultural Marxists, an academic term which she used to mean ‘those f**king bastards’. She invited far-right groups to come and have a go at pro-Palestine protestors despite the police being very much against that. Because of hatred.

‘Aiming to negate or destroy the fundamental rights and freedoms of others’

What half the Conservative party is doing, currently. The rights given by the European Convention on Human Rights are ours, yes? As humans, much as you want us reclassified as ‘active economic units’? And you’re planning to ‘negate or destroy’ them by taking us out of it for your Rwanda plan? Because the Tories are more extreme than a BMX rider doing a fakie front flip over a shades-wearing shark?

New definition of extremism, March 2024

As warned by three former Tory home secretaries, one of them a proper headbanger, and a group of senior counter-terrorism experts, unilaterally redefining extremism stamps all over the right to free speech. Still, can’t we trust that Michael Gove knows best? After all, he’s the one man involved in everything the government’s done for 14 years.

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In the Summertime, and other massive songs written quicker than your toilet break

THESE tracks were famously shat out in mere minutes, less time than you frequently spend in the bog. So feel more inadequate than usual on the toilet today.

In the Summertime by Mungo Jerry (1970)

It took singer Ray Dorset just 10 minutes to write, less than one of your work-avoidance sessions in the loo. He has denied it celebrates drink driving, claiming ‘Have a drink’ meant ‘a coke or a milkshake’. Sadly he failed to explain the altogether more sinister lines ‘If her daddy’s rich, take her for a meal/ If her daddy’s poor, just do what you feel’. It sold an implausible 30 million copies and is soundtracking barbecues to this day. You will go to your grave knowing someone blowing into a bottle on a surprise-hit skiffle record had more impact on history than you.

Just Dance by Lady Gaga (2008)

While you were clutching the bowl after a binge, Lady Gaga was making a fortune from also getting shitfaced the night before. The difference was you were retching up stomach bile for ten minutes and she was retching up Just Dance. Basically all she did was diarise 2-for-1 cocktails night at All Bar One, and it’s a shame we can’t all get a hit record out of losing your phone while being completely f**ked. Or indeed base a hugely successful career on dressing like a nutter.

Single Ladies by Beyoncé (2008)

It’s infuriating to know that this pop chart plague took less time to write than your average toilet Tinder swipe session, especially as the lyrics are padded with lots of whoops and ‘oh oh oh’s. Queen Bey didn’t even pen it herself, instead being gifted it by a producer who – very believably – says he barely gave it a thought. It really resonated with clingy, desperate women, everyone was weirdly impressed by Beyonce impersonating a chicken in the video, and you can’t knock it because you’ve had precisely no hits in all your toilet breaks put together. 

My Sharona by The Knack (1979)

It comes as a shock that this stuttery, rather repetitive ditty wasn’t written on the bog, and the 15 minutes it took was a similar timeframe to you expunging a dodgy curry. It was inspired by singer Doug Fieger’s 17-year-old girlfriend (he was 25) and is pretty suggestive throughout, with lyrics like ‘I always get it up for the touch of the younger kind’, make of that what you will. So basically it’s lucky for The Knack they got away with it by being from 1979.

Jolene by Dolly Parton (1973)

Dolly rarely performs this smash hit, so huge yet insignificant to her it makes your life’s greatest achievements seem as impressive as making a sandwich. And not even a very memorable sandwich. Yes, Dolly knocking out this and I Will Always Love You in one day is a definite middle finger to any success you’ll ever have. Still, she’s probably been subjected to countless horrific covers and screeching amateur versions of both songs throughout her life, and no one’s ever tried to copy the sound of you taking a dump and made you listen to it.

Seven Nation Army by The White Stripes (2003)

The soundcheck guy who heard this first said ‘It’s okay’, like you tell yourself after polishing off a lacklustre Meal Deal. Your mediocre meal won’t get you royalties every time a goal gets scored in the Bundesliga though, and it’ll hurt even more to hear this overplayed riff while you’re sat on the bog in some pub, wondering if learning one blues scale in a quarter of an hour would have made all the difference to your life, like it did for these jammy bastards.