Good evensong dear perceptors! Or, as they say in LL-y-C, Good evening. The Sun is over the yard-arm, and the shadow of the dome of insects floats midway on the waves. Break out the Pinkers is the cry! The cock has crowed, the sheep are stowed, and yonder - hark! the natter-toad, croaks 'hither' to the night. The climbing moon -
SIONED:- Right! that's it! Cosy night in and a Cwtch you said! - I'm off down the legion...don't wait up!
REJ:- O Duw, duw! She's off again! - a touch of the old 'womb-hysteria' you might say -
SIONED:- I HEARD THAT! -
REJ:- Hssht now Emannuel bach...wait until you hear the stairs...
SIONED:- I'M NOT LUDWIG VAN BLOODY BEETHOVEN YOU -
REJ:- Dammo! - I haven't got a smaller font...and that one was in my head...never mind - WHAT'S THAT MY CARIAD? AREN'T YOU STAYING FOR THE FEMALE GENITAL MUTILATION DEBATE?
SIONED:- WELL YOU'D KNOW NOTHING ABOUT THAT 'COS YOU'RE A COMPLETE FFWRCH!
REJ:- SIONED! - Oh, you're here - Sioned! you can't use words like that! There might be a Welsh-speaker listening...in Patagonia, or Caerfyrddin, or the University of Llanbedr-pont-Steffan, or -
SIONED:- Yes I can because I've got one -
REJ:- Is that how it works? -
SIONED:- If you had any idea how it works we wouldn't have so much bloody milk in the fridge! NOS DA!
REJ:- wait for it...wait for the creak of y grysiau bach...
REJ:- Sioned has left the building! Mae'n ddrwg gen i about the naughty word - and the femilogic at the end...'If I knew...milk'...nope, dim doubt boys bach! - they are truly a mystery. Education is wasted on some genders as they say! Can't live with them...And now onto tonight's tete aux tetes. And what tetes! By the magic of lying, I have in my living stroke dining room Germaine Greer, Cat Stevens, Nick Griffin, PC PC 149 Dai Hughes, and SomeoneelseIhaventthoughtofyet. I shall be playing the role of chairpersman like that Jonathan Mumblebore off the telly. But with one difference! In order so as to and not make the amateur mistake of running out of time, we shall be starting with the ending first. And they might just talk one at a time and then disappear, so I don't get confused. We'll see how it goes. And so I shall then now ask each of my guests in turn, without hesitation, deviation, repetition, or masturbation, to begin with their closing statements.
REJ:- Germaine Greer! Duw! you scrub up tidy love, not the tusker at all. I don't know why I still listen to Glyn-the-fags-the-radiographer. £5.99 for Golden Virginia! Take a Pew, cariad! I don't think I'll be needing this after all! *zzziiiiiiip! - reveal!* The boys down the criced club lent it me. Hmmm...you'd best wash it before I return it. Cat! do us a favour and open the ffenestr! Nawrte boysss...ble was I? Ah yes...now in the 70s, when Elvis Preseli was still with us, you wrote that famous book, 'The Dickless Female'. You'll be pleased to hear I have read it cover to cover - you know - when it got you into the birds' dungarees - and I've always wondered what it said inside. So I'm very upcited to have the chance after 3 decades to finally get hold of you in person and find out just how good you are between the covers.
REJ:- Ooops Sorry! - er...- you may speak!
REJ:- Well put the kettle on then, you've gone very coch! Is this one of those hot flushes like Sioned's mams been having? I thought you'd long 'gone to seed' as it were! She finds the thinking stressful too - eisteddwch lawr love, you'll saturate the Tena-ladypants. I remember when Dilys Pugh -
GG:- K-K-K-KETTLE!!! Kettle...fish...kettle of fish!...pregnant fish....twat!....you're attacking my genitalia!....cunt-hatred!....if you'd read my book! Cunt-hatred! -
REJ:- Germaine! You can't use words like that! There may be English speakers listening! -
GG:- Yes I can because I've written about them. And about tasting menstrual blood. Not me, someone else. It shocked me - although I am unshockable, and very open-minded - having shagged John Peel and raised chickens and written about 'fuck-me-shoes' and other clever things. I'm certainly not projecting self-loathing and shame about my body from when I was a girl and Uncle Skippy said -
REJ:- Oooh but I never -
GG:- I'm afraid you did Richard. When you said 'Kettle'. You are a cunt-hater -
REJ:- O Dammo am I? I thought I rather liked them, although I can't really remember that far back. Sioned has been somewhat remiss in her bedroom duties lately - yet I'm still giving her the house-keeping!
REJ:- Wha-?...Beth?...Ble?! - She's gone! wedi mynd! And she said nothing about the mutualations! How can this be? And where did you come from Noel Edmonds?! And why are you dressed as a pirate? O Diar! Sioned was right about the cheese -
NE:- Arrr me hearties. It's me Noel Edmonds in one of my amusing costumes that ensure the 'Deal or dim deal' format is never tired. And those coloured dots following me you may be able to see - although people pretend they can't - are my dead parents. Or spiritual guides. Whatever I said - I'm too boring to look up. Now, I can see you're nervous Richard! And so I'm going to put my arm around you and giggle -
REJ:- I'm not sure that will help -
NE:- Trust me, I'm wearing make-up. There! that's better - tee hee! - now you know the way the game is played as you haven't got a job. Have you got a system? -
REJ:- Diawl! If Sioned had let me buy Sky plus I could fast forward you! er...I'll have bocs rhif 12 - 'final answer!' - there - that's saved half an hour...
NE:- Number 12! - the age of consent in Vatican-land! And still they can't wait! -
REJ:- Rhowch my script back to me and do your own jokes. On second thoughts don't -
NE:- Number 12! box number 12! -
REJ:- That's it boyo! Just open it and piss off -
NE:- Box number 12! number 12! The number you've chosen is 12! Not 11 - you could have chosen 11, but you didn't. You chose number 12! box number 12! Will this be a life-changing amount? Will this be a banker-spanking? Number 12! box number 12! not number 13 -
REJ:- Ok I'll do it - *rrrippp!!*
REJ:- Good God M'n! Anne Robinson!
AR:- Well helloooah Richard! *wii...* *wii...* -
REJ:- Use your fingers -
REJ:- Well now please Mrs. Robinson, Mae'r Iesu yn caru tu more than you can know. A-wo-wo-wo. What is your opinion on war-protesters, and would you today refuse to be drafted? - Ooops! - that was for Mr.Preseli in 1972. What is your opinion of on the female genital mutilation?
AR:- Interesting! But first I shall have a go at Greer -
REJ:- But you're not a boy...you haven't got the -
AR:- I am a proper woman. Not like that shrivelled harridan -
REJ:- *gasp!* -
AR:- Yes Richard!, a proper woman, and you may well gasp at my beauty - It's ok, I'm not offended. I too haven't read that book of hers, but if I had I wouldn't like it. I've never burnt my bra, or needed one, or raised chickens. And I managed to combine a career and motherhood without buying into any of this faux-feminist claptrap - I'm a real feminist. Be more like a man then men! - that's what Maggie said -
REJ:- O Duw! Please don't you start with the swearing too! Y Parch will be round with his exorcisms...It's two bottles a demon and I can't afford it! Yes I remember your career, at a time when no woman had worked previously anywhere ever, you were a writer, I mean journalist - real work! - not skiving down the mines like Uncle Sienkin, and indeed you drank more then men! And a mother too - at a time when no woman had managed to have children previously anywhere ever, and you successfully combined the two! All without reading the book! Although your daughter got taken into care because you were always being found naked drunk in the gutter all over Llundain.
AR:- I am a role model to young women everywhere!
REJ:- Indeed you are! But about the female genital mutilations -
AR:- I think you know as well as I do Richard, that Cat Stevens and PC PC 149 are doing that later. I'd rather talk about myself for a bit longer. I might say something about it indirectly, but without noticing. -
REJ:- No, you've lost me. I'm having one of those days -
AR:- Well I'm going to talk about cosmetic surgery, and a woman's right to choose, and how this sets me free from oppression -
REJ:- Well can't you do it more subtly? there's no need to patronise the textership! Do you mean things like breast enhancements? I saw this programme once on S4C...Sioned was out and -
AR:- I can't believe you said that Richard! there's no comparison at all! You are comparing apples and oranges! -
REJ:- From what I remember it was more apples and Melons -
AR:- No comparison. It's all about choice. - this is my angry face by the way - how does it look? -
REJ:- I don't want to say!...I once asked Sioned why she pulled her eyebrows out and then drew them back on with a pencil that cost £5.99 and she said it was because I didn't understand. She was right - and I've still got the bruise...
AR:- Good for her! I would have hit you too if my skin wasn't so taut. Tell me Richard bach, have you travelled much? Have you ever been to America?
REJ:- Only in my dreams Anne, only in my dreams...
AR:- In America Richard, women are truly free. Free to be forever beautiful like me. Have you ever seen a designer vagina?
REJ:- I deleted my interweb history after Sioned -
AR:- Yes truly free Richard. And so many TV channels! - so many great shows like mine! Not so much Noel's -
REJ:- Sioned says anorexia followed the introduction of TV around the globe. She says we should set up a charity to - what was it? I wasn't really listening. Cardiff were playing Neath and I just said 'Yes love' one time too many - must have slipped out of synch! I did my eating dogs for the anorexic joke but even that didn't help. I've still got the bruise - anyway I thought they were all morbidly obese - Glyn the milk has been there and he said he's never seen such hungry heiffers - reckons he could get 60 litres a day from -
AR:- That's right! and that shows TV does not affect people in the silly way that Sioned describes. It's all about the freedom to express yourself as anorexic...or morbidly obese...with a designer vagina and Melon-boobs...free from the oppression of men!
REJ:- I knew it was men! I think I'm getting the hang of all this...wonder if this will get me back into Sioned's - Cat! you wish to interject! -
CS:- It's Yusuf Islam -
REJ:- Yes! Cat Stevens himself! Who can forget your hit records? I know we've all tried -
CS:- Yusuf Islam or I'm not playing -
REJ:- Is that a promise Cat? Only we've all tried to forget...why are you wearing that binbag over your head by the way? If you don't mind my asking that is wrth gwrs. I pride myself on my tact and diplomacy. Sioned says -
CS:- The binbag is a sacred symbol Richard, although heavier than other symbols...like pictures....unless they're framed...- and it must be worn by the muslims of the Islamic persuasion for a number of very good reasons. You won't find a flaw in my segment if that's what you were thinking -
REJ:- It has all been flawless so far - like the Star of India! -
CS:- A long time ago, Allah dictated (please don't do your books are hard to make with invisible fingers one) a very special message to Mohammed - Peace be upon him! - and not one word was plagiarised from the Bible. He's good at writing you see, although not quite as good as humans, but no-non-body's perfect -
REJ:- Done that one too - perhaps try and be original Cat -
CS:- If you read the book -
REJ:- I'm one step ahead of you my furry friend! - If I read the book it will say I have to wear the binbag! -
CS:- Well no, it doesn't actually, but don't worry about that you dhimmi! As I was wailing -
REJ:- Yes I see the attraction now -
CS:- the binbag must be worn to preserve modesty and prevent indecency! Lust! Sin! You know about lust Richard don't you? Look at them! Look at their eyes! You can tell they want it! Look at them in their binbags!....all hot and bothered...filled with musty pheromones...you know what they're wearing underneath don't you? You can tell! Look at those eyes!....filled with eastern promise!....wibble...gibber...the binbag prevents all this sort of thing -
REJ:- er...yes. er...but I thought it was just for the ladies -
CS:- I'm a convert Richard! a convert! You can't expect me to get everything right! Just the bits I like - I don't know everything just because I have an omniscient friend I can talk to! I do know genitalia must be mutilated though, I'm pretty sure on that one -
CS:- By the way, what day is rubbish collection here? - only there have been some accidents...
REJ:- I'll put you out tuesday -
CS:- Thanks - I always forget. Yes! the binbag frees women from the oppression of men! You can see what happens when you run out of binbags - Anne Robinson! -
REJ:- Cat! You are comparing bananas and grapes!...or is it peaches? Dammo! - I thought I was getting it for a moment there - Oooh! just as an aside...what's that fuse-like fuse sticking out of your shoes?
CS:- That's the ending you could have done if you hadn't wasted it on Hawking. Good luck getting out of this one -
REJ:- Diolch! and good luck to you in spreading your message. I don't think it will catch on though to be honest, not in Llanfihangel-y-Creuddun anyway. Dwr Cymru have done a splendigedig job! You might have more luck in Aberwristwatch where the water from the lead-mines at nant-yr-arian....- Duw! now he's gone too! I must lay off the milk of paradise. Maybe cut down a bit at first....perhaps starting next blwyddyn. Anyway at least he didn't sing 'the first cut is the deepest'. There is a line to be drawn in the funny-sand...
NG:- Me! Me! talk to me! I'm very important and have a mandate from the finest minds of Great Britain and it's aisles! -
REJ:- Well, if you're quick...only there's a talk happening on the enriddance of ovine-sheep parasites at the Lamb & Flag later -
NG:- Me! Me! you are suppressing my right to free speech! I must be heard! You are not letting me talk! We used to make things, and kill Germans, and now I can't even talk in my own country! I can't believe I am in England -
REJ:- Too easy.
NG:- You're not letting me speak! *etc x infinity* Stop calling me racist! I'm not racist! The cheek of it! When your government is killing thousands of muslims a day in Iraq and Afghanistan -
REJ:- I've run out of fruit I'm afraid - have a biscuit.
NG:- No I will not be bought off with a biscuit!...Oooh! Custard Creams! Just like Nanny...No! you won't stop me talking with biscuits in my mouth. And before you say it I'm not comparing Bourbons and jaffa-cakes! I wouldn't eat the brown ones anyway - they have lower IQs -
REJ:- They do? -
NG:- They do! Although you are suppressing my right to say this fact! Here, in England! -
REJ:- carry on - you're doing a better job than I could -
NG:- Yes! lower IQs! - no, I wouldn't bother checking that Richard...just listen to me and it will become apparent! Before you say it - and I once more seem to know what you are going to say in advance for some reason - they only do better in exams because of hard work and studying. Just as they only do better in business because of hard work and whatever people in business are supposed to do. Long hours or something. Very few Richard! - and I refuse to let you shout me down! - here, in West-Greater-England of all places, because I'm really very brave you know, and don't transparently have an inferiority complex, very few, if any, sit at home all day in their pants watching Jeremy Kyle and drinking Special Brew on the sick. Very few. They just don't want to integrate.
REJ:- Yes I can see that is a problem...how to reach these isolated communities hidden away in public places -
NG:- Please don't interrupt me once I've started foaming, Richard, it means I have to wipe myself twice. On top of all this paying taxes and being born here they want to kill us! It is beyond belief! And yet I am a special person that can manage it -
REJ:- Good God Man! Is that true? even Abdul Parry-Jones y siop? Wants to kill us? -
NG:- Yes! I think I'm getting somewhere at last! I always do well amongst the brighter people I speak too -
REJ:- Iesu Mawr! - who would have thought it? Abdul Parry-Jones, a friend for thirty years and all the time he has been wanting to kill me. I almost feel betrayed! A ticking time-bomb...tick tick tick for thirty years and never once did he give even so much as a hint of being one of these terrortourists - the bastard! I think I shall be going to Llan'dod Tesco's from now on -
NG:- Perhaps a brick through the window too, Richard -
REJ:- Brick through the window....well if he's trying to kill - wait a minute! you're not manipulating me are you? -
NG:- No, Richard! - you're far too intelligent to be so crudely manipulated -
REJ:- You're right! although perhaps make it a bit more emotive...
NG:- Women and children Richard! Not just men, - it doesn't seem to matter so much if men are killed - women and children! See how I linked the two there? - Abdul Parry-Jones wants to kill Sioned and Ethan and Tasmin! Somethingmustbedone! - Women and children...and red buses! - the very heart of theme-park Britain! If one deconstructs the connotive and denotive semiotics of the symbolism of the red bus to - ooops! - that's someone else - sorry!- er...
REJ:- Ffwrch y Diawl! He's a monster! Yes, diolch! I'll have one of those white hoods too - Ta! - And does he cut the little girl's genitalia too? -
NG:- Look into my eyes Richard!....that's it!....what can you sssssssseeeee now?!....lissssssssssp!.....I'm talking with a lissssssssssssp! aren't I? and I'm doing my Shere Khan swirly eyes!....- *swirl!* - you like cartoons don't you Richard?....you remember now don't you?....it's young Richard I want to talk to now....lissssssten with your heart!.....you haven't done any solutions yet have you?.....the readers were hoping you might do some solutions by mistake!....money and 'advertising'...- education and economic freedom and real choice for the women....somewhere to go....somewhere safe....helplines and whatnot!....how touchingly naive!....forget all that nonsense and think with your heart!...you already know the real sssssssssolution!....the final ssssssssolution!...tee hee!.....where is little Tasmin today?....I mean Tassssssssmin?!....do you know where she is?....it's your ssssssoul! I want to talk to now!....can you see her?....she's lost and afraid....someone's holding her down!....someone with a beard.....he looks like Abdul!.....is it Abdul Richard?!.....he's got a knife.....her lip is trembling....you can feel the fear Richard can't you?!....you can feel it now!.....what are you going to do? nothing?....like a coward!...how about now?......SCCCCCCCRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMM!!! -
REJ:- Let's get the fucker! and the paediatricians while we're at it! Let's -
NG:- I brought these torches just in case you were of suitable intelligence -
PC PC 149 Dai Hughes:- Nawrte boyss! Beth sy'n going on here then? Ah fuck it! I don't think I'll bother with my bit. That wanky snake's pissed me off now. You know what I was going to say anyway - multiculturalism...new silly pointless law....zero prosecutions...bla...bla...fucky bla....fuck the lot of you...sitting on your arses sneering at me - Anne - I don't mean you - a policeman's lot etc...you fill it in...I liked it when you did your silly poems instead. Fuck all this! Fuck you Richard with your infantile 'jokes' and cheap digs and fuck all answers to anything! Fuck you fuck your blog and fuck off! I'm closing it down here.
REJ:- Charming. And I was going to tie it up nicely with my 'we're all fruit' line. All eating from the same fruit-bowl. Or biscuit tin. The oneness of Homo Fructus as that gurning would-be-despot the Dalai Llama might inanely bleat. Can't believe I forgot that - that was the whole point of it. Not FGM at all - which merits no consideration. The enemy within. But how within! It's as if I got bored halfway through - thinking about Charlton Heston in the next one.