The Archbishop of Canterbury on… Trump, focusing on the positive side of slavery

22nd August 2025

WAKING up with a hangover so vast it has its own moons orbiting it, I am pleased to be informed of new rules regarding financial disclosure for members of the House of Lords.

This may impact me as I have been starring in a paid series of public information films for the Japanese Masturbatory Board, extolling the pleasures, health benefits and other merits of onanism. ‘Bashing the bishop’, to use the common parlance, or in this case, the Archbishop.

Wearing my ecclesiastical garb, and a specially adapted mitre which glows and throbs red, I explain, in phonetic Japanese, why it is no sin to pleasure oneself and statistics have shown that those who do so at least once – or preferably twice – a day have a greater life expectancy than those who abstain, the longer to serve the Lord.

I have also agreed to the manufacture of a line of Archbishop-themed dildos, created in my image. These I plug at the end of each film, with a ‘two for the price of one’ offer.

Were the British media to get wind of these adverts they might make hay of them. However, there is a remarkable incuriosity on their part towards Japanese popular culture. Which is why my colleague the Archbishop of Durham, a noted temperance campaigner, advertises Scotch whisky in Japan.

Musing wryly thus, I take a light breakfast and peruse a periodical. Therein I read that the ‘Wythall Flaggers’, a group organised to attach St George flags to local lampposts, have stated ‘This is NOT racist – never has been, never will be’.

Fuck my dead cat with my dead dog’s dick, are you fucking shitting me? Of course it’s fucking racist, you racist fucks, and if it wasn’t racist then the fucking racists who volunteer to put up these flags and the racists who get some sort of weird fucking racist buzz out of them would be asking what’s the fucking point? It’s racist, organised by racists, the fucking racists of Wythall, and the racist hellholes up and down this racist fucking country from Cuntbridge to Arseswill to Shithole-By-The-Sea! What d’you fucking think it’s about? Euro 2020?

Meanwhile, Conservative frontbencher Robert Jenrick has turned up at an anti-asylum rally in Essex attended by a veteran far-right activist, one Eddy Butler.

Proof if it weren’t already piled up in fucking abundance that Jenrick is one of the greasiest streaks of fucking self-serving, soulless scum currently ‘serving’ in fucking parliament. And given the competition, it’s some achievement to have clambered to the top of that writhing fucking shitheap! Cunt stunts like this only serve to pull the Overton window still further to the right – you can bet at Labour HQ they’re looking at sending one of their own fucking MPs to the next fucking rally like this!

The Labour Party is currently drawing up plans to replace its MP Diane Abbott in the North London seat she currently holds.

Oh, so you’re looking to replace Diane Abbott, are you? How about this for a suggestion: Diane fucking Abbott? You seriously think that some parachuted, chinless, scrubbed-up fucking hack, plucked out of the fucking Labour Party machinery they’ve fucking lived in since they left university is gonna cut the mustard with hacked-off locals? You think you can pin a red rosette on some pliant, Aye-voting, practically AI-generated Starmerite automaton and they’ll be waved straight through? Better be pointlessly ruthless about getting rid of Diane Abbott, that’ll fix all those polls saying you’re less popular than Gregg fucking Wallace!

Finally, Donald Trump has announced that he will be going after America’s Smithsonian museums. His numerous grievances include their ‘wokeness’, their insistence on ‘teaching how bad slavery was’ and having ‘nothing to say about the future’.

Jesus pogoing on a wankstick, where to fucking start with this bloviating fascist pumpkin? You think teaching that slavery was a bad thing is the work of dangerous Marxist extremists? Won’t someone think of the fucking plantation owners, eh? Because it’s hard to see any upsides for the fucking slaves! As for the future, they’re fucking museums, you braindead cunt! Who builds museums to the fucking future? And with a psychopathic, inept, fascist sex offender like you at the helm most people would rather not fucking think about it!

Two-tier policing in action: here's what happened when this white middle-class woman tried shoplifting

21st August 2025

By Abigail Pennson, our reasonable, plain-speaking middle-class columnist who Britain let down by not rioting this summer

WHY shouldn’t I? After all, nobody else is paying. But while the Albanians can walk out with armfuls of diamond bracelets, you guessed it – it’s different for Brits.

It was in Selfridges that the thought occurred, a store founded by the man who coined the immortal phrase ‘the customer is always right’. And on this occasion, the customer in question had a deliciously naughty idea.

When 98.2 per cent of goods in UK stores are taken gratis and our self-service checkouts largely used as urinals, what was stopping me joining in? When police help shoplifters carry their hauls home while tasing have-a-go heroes left and right?

There is only so much the British psyche, built on its bedrock of fair play and equitable treatment for all, can take. And, as Kipling wrote, when all around are taking make-up while you pay the mark-up then you’re the twat, my son.

So, cheeks flushed with excitement, I snatched up a Mulberry bag and began shopping in earnest. Perfumes, mascara, a couple of silk Hermes scarves and a pair of Tom Ford sunglasses all went in. Who would stop me in Starmer’s Britain, where crime is the law?

Finally, after deliberating between two Bvlgari watches and deciding ‘What the hell? I’ll have both’, I headed for the door, expecting the swarthy security guard to recognise a fellow criminal and hold it wide for me, perhaps with a bow.

Instead? He barred my way. As if by magic, the constabulary appeared. Turning to each other, they asked: ‘Is she ethnic?’ ‘Nah.’ ‘Trans?’ ‘Nah.’ ‘A working-class slattern?’ ‘Nah. We’ve got one here, sarge.’ Turning back to me, he said ‘You’re f**king nicked, love.’

So I was carted to the police station in the back of a van like a common criminal, fingerprinted, charged and locked in a cell. And get this – they don’t even let you keep what you stole. Is that not the sharpest of injustices?

My only reward? Proving that two-tier Britain, where only decent people who blanch at the very thought of committing crimes are arrested for them, is very real. My only consolation? Knowing no jury could ever convict.