The Archbishop of Canterbury on... Suella: not sure if you're human but you're definitely English

WAKING with a hangover whose vibrations are so intense they are causing dogs half a mile away bark to incessantly, I review the events of the week, including my decision to become a ‘tech bro’.

Like many I have been concerned at Elon Musk’s takeover of the social media site Twitter, as well as the insipidness of its putative rival, Bluesky. I therefore announced this week the launch of my own site, Twatter.

‘The rules of Twatter are as follows,’ I posted. ‘No homophobia, transphobia, racism. No bots. No extreme centrists. No spam. No MAGAs, no anti-vaxxers. Posts may be up to 250 characters in length and must contain at least five recognised swear words. Crappy compound words like “spunktrumpet” are not admissible.’

I am gratified to note that within days, Twatter established itself as an enormous success, with approaching six billion users. Twitter, meanwhile, consists of little more than a dwindled echo chamber of bots barking AI-generated nonsense at one another, its market value now estimated to be 38p. 

Satisfied with my modest labours, I take a light breakfast and peruse a periodical. Therein I read that Thames Water and other water companies are raising their bills in April, with some customers paying almost double what they were previously.

Tie me down and cleanse my arse with a jetwash enema, are you cunts taking the piss or what? Taking the piss but not taking the actual shit out of our rivers, I’ll fucking warrant! We’re footing the bill for your chronic greed, incompetence and bog-lousy stewardship in this ongoing perma-Thatcher era! It doesn’t fucking affect me, I don’t drink water, can’t stand the filthy stuff, but every other bugger is going to be fucked, aren’t they? Mark my words, though – one of these days there’s gonna be a Labour government and they’re going to nationalise your arses till the fucking pips squeak!

Donald Trump claimed this week that the Biden administration had spent $8 million on ‘making mice transgender’. It appears he was making a confused reference to ‘transgenic mice’, a process whereby scientists add human cells to rodents to study more accurately the effects of disease on human tissue. 

Hahahahaha, fuck my budgie, this is what stops me from fucking worrying myself to death about you, Donald. You’re not just an evil, lying, grotesque, power-worshipping, overtanned sex offender and inciter of riots, you are one seriously stupid fuck! You’d probably do a Nazi salute yourself except you can’t work out which fucking arm to raise! Christ, transgender mice. How would you even know? Are they going to specify their fucking pronouns? Seriously, when you die, and that day can’t come soon enough, you should donate your brain to science. They’ll wonder how an organ the size and density of a fucking walnut can be so full of shit. It’s a medical fucking marvel!

Australian politician Roger Cook has apologised unreservedly for calling US vice president JD Vance a ‘knob’. 

Why? The fuck why? This is all cock-eyed. He fucking well is a knob, a throbbing, glowing red bellend visible from hundreds of miles away! It’s fucking JD Vance who should be apologising to humanity for the jeopardy he’s putting us all in with his unprecedented knobbiness! He’s a knob and everyone including his family knows it! Apologising to Vance for calling him a knob is like apologising to fucking Richard Osman for calling him tall! What a massive cunterama the world has turned into!

Finally, social media is still digesting Suella Braverman’s comments that, despite being born, brought up and educated in England, she is ‘not truly English’. She also claimed multiculturalism has failed, and ‘we are living in the wreckage of that failure’.

You know, in a perverse way you’ve got to admire the fucking dedication of our far-right quasi-fascists, who’ll even go as far as loathing their own racial origin just to bang the drum for the anti-multicultural cause! Of course you’re fucking English, for fuck’s sake! Whatever fucking significance that has! Everyone was fucking born somewhere and you were fucking born here, so fucking what? Being English isn’t some fucking state of grace, it’s an accident of birth! I mean, you’re not fucking human, and I’m not entirely sure you’re a fucking mammal, but you’re definitely English! Get fucking used to it!

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Last week I praised Trump as the Eternal Hero risen to lead us into glory. Let me just qualify that

By Abigail Pennson, our reasonable, plain-speaking middle-class columnist with a big list of words that rhyme with Keir

IN last week’s and multiple previous columns I have described Trump as our one true Caesar and the saviour of freedom. That stands, but with a few notes. 

He is still a warrior against woke, the nemesis of net zero, an implacable foe of illegal immigration, a crusader countering the corrupt cuckocracy, and Daddy. But we have minor differences on Ukraine. 

Largely that – and perhaps this is easier to see from Europe, benighted graveyard of free speech that it for the most part is – Russia invaded it, plans to take the whole of Eastern Europe back and Putin will slaughter us all with a smile on his KGB features. 

Now, I admit it wasn’t always that clear to me. When Russian cash was saving those twin white supremacist institutions Chelsea FC and the Tory party, I was all for it. ‘Let it rain down,’ I said, ‘and polonium for the dissidents.’ 

But the removal without warning, if you discount warnings from dangerously soft-headed liberals and Trump’s campaign promises, of the US protection umbrella has caused some reassessment because I have never wanted to die. 

And, much as I applaud the rise in defence spending Trump has forced upon us which should be 95 per cent like ancient Sparta, my hopes of him bluffing grow dim. He really is f**king off Europe and leaving us to rely on the frogs for nukes. Shit. 

So while I applaud his America First! stance in theory and believe he should extract so many minerals from Ukraine that it’s down to the magma, I still selfishly feel he should save us. I’d be happy if the security guarantees only covered my bit of London. 

Nonetheless, I stand by all those other columns while reserving the right to rescind them if he leads the world into economic depression, invades Canada and kidnaps the King, declares democracy over or sets up internment camps. All of which I now judge likely. 

Oh, Daddy Trump. You are a one.