Sound and Fury in the British Isles

4 min readMar 12
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I’ve never been so desperate to see an election come. Keir Starmer might be a plate of uncooked dough, but I’ll take it. Give me anyone but a Tory, please G-d.

Whatever is happening here has been happening for a while. It’s starting to stink to high heaven now. The government of Once Great Britain has poisoned the air, the land, the water, and now the very culture is being dismantled and sold for parts in front of our eyes.

Like a cow being eaten alive at a feast, our country is tearing itself apart to be king of the ashes.

Do I blame foreigners?

Fuck no! I’m a fucking immigrant to this country myself.

There is no truer love than the convert to a new nation.

How could they break my heart like this?

Sorry, I read a great piece on Bukowski here on Medium this morning and I’m erupting into poetry unwittingly. Unmercifully.

Among others, I blame the rich pieces of shit who own the media in this country. They know exactly what they are doing. And I hate them.

How could anyone who hails from this land invite the children of oligarchs and spies from our most hostile enemy into the very heart of government here? That is fucking treason, thank you very godamn much. Oooooh, you cunts.

So, as the very shits that my grandfather fled Russia to evade over 100 years ago now infiltrate and poison the body politic of every Western democracy on earth, I guess I’m fucked. Hooray.

This once green and interesting island is a seeping wastepile, drowning in recriminations and fake outrage at ridiculous shit whilst people go hungry.

The seas die.

Plastic is in everything.

The land is dying.

No one is coming to save us. We have been sold off to foreign interests who are enjoying watching us on our knees.

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Get the fuck up. We must turn our backs on this government and look to the Green Man instead. He is beckoning, just inside the forest’s edge.


Observer. I bitch about politics, parenting, and whatever else takes my fancy. I like old people. Use my link: