Beggars Busted: Trump Throws Europe's War Junkies Off The Gravy Train
Last week I showed readers some English half-wits posing for selfies with a life-size cardboard cut-out of the Ukranian president. This week England’s Half Wit-in-Chief Kier Starmer is clutching the real Zelensky for the cameras, looking every bit as dumb. These two images -the iconic stupidity of electors and the elected- make perfect bookends for the story of the most pointless and bloody disaster of the 21st century. With the curtain falling on NATO’s vanity war with Russia, first Starmer and then Zelensky knocked on the White House door, to rattle their begging bowls. 3000 miles from home, ushered into Trump’s presence, neither had a clue that humiliation and mockery were waiting. Given the bums rush they so richly deserved, the world’s press gaped as the deflated duo sought comfort in each other’s arms. Various front pages would depict them locked in that eager ten-fingered embrace that Kier Starmer seems to find irresistible at close quarters with any male in his vicinity.
Compliance being the name of the game, of course, emphasised when President Trump, to the delight of millions worldwide, caustically observed to the Ukranian dictator “you don’t have any cards”. It’s worth remembering that both Donald and Volodymyr are products of prime-time TV. The difference being that only one of them has a functioning brain. Rumours have long been circulating that Zelensky’s own circulation runs on lines of Columbian Marching Powder (as Hunter Biden might say). He certainly brought the air of a befuddled stoner to his White House showdown, gibbering in his dress-down Friday gear as Trump and his vice-president pulled him apart with truth-jabs to the soft white underbelly. Off camera, apparently, the Ukrainian ambassador (about as articulate and useful as David Lammy) sank her head into her hands in utter disbelief at her boss’s moronic bleatings.
Having English as his first language, Kier Starmer had no excuse for missing any of the unsubtle jibes Trump launched in his direction. “Going to take Russia on by yourself?” being my personal favourite. I haven’t owned a TV set in 20 years, but even I know that Mr Trump became famous by telling losers their financial propositions were crap. You might have thought a professional actor like Zelbo would tread more carefully in Trump’s den, with the likes of CNN, Sky, Fox and MSNBC gathered around like coyotes at a campfire.
The post-meeting reviews have been priceless to read. The skirt-lifting and harrumphing in the columns of Britain’s journalist-class has been almost as funny as Trump’s blunderbuss diplomacy. Half a century of watching the same tired backslapping rituals seem to have convinced our master presstitutes that the only conceivable result of a “state summit” is a gurning photo op and kisses all round. That was clearly what Starmer had in mind, but you could see and hear the impatience in Trump’s demeanour. He has quite enough to worry about, fighting the Goliath-like apparatus of America’s deep state without chocolate soldiers like Starmer and Zelensky blocking up his schedule.
Strange, isn’t it, how a few honest words can puncture a half-century of global myth (heroic, plucky Europe defiant in the face of the evil Russian grizzly bear…) And just like that, everybody stops in their tracks, mouths open in shock. You mean…no more endless billions for the war to save democracy? TRUMP: “Nope.”
When he is slung out of office by his own party (as I predicted he would be back before it was trendy) I hope somebody gives Kier Starmer a video highlights reel of his very worst moments. Near the top will be the sight of him squeaking about the “Speshul Relay-shun-ship” and “Our free speetch!” from a White House chair that seems, like Trump, to mock him by its sheer size. The reel absolutely must include a slow motion close-up of the Donald’s face smirking after that brutal Russia quip, while Starmer blushed in hot recognition of his personal and political impotence.
The weekend’s hilarity climaxed with Kier and Vlod cuddling in front of number 10 Downing Street like they’d just shared a fab mini-break in an Airbnb, as opposed to an excruciating shakedown in the HR department. Kier hoisted his trademark glassy leer to declare “You have full backing across the UK!” A statement I’d like to see him try out in my local pub. For the bemused press, who know a walking corpse when they see one, he added a Churchillian flourish “We are at a turning point in the war.” You can say that again. It’s the point when you realise you’re fucked and the servant arrives with your revolver and a tear in his eye. Monday morning’s Ukraine spin-cycle will doubtless be a wonder to behold.
WAKE UP TIME IN BRUSSELS
If you hadn’t already realised that Trump redux is a presidency like none we have ever seen, you sure as hell know it now. Starmer got it, Zelensky gets it, Putin (being smart) probably had it all along, and now it’s time for the Brussels-based slimeballs of the European Union to face the music and dance. What exactly do you have to offer your own people, without America writing all the cheques? The future coming for Europe is a much worse fate than the legendary Russian invasion beloved of the arms-salesmen who write for the Times and Telegraph. Though god knows I can’t imagine Russian state communism being much worse than Starmer’s version.
Come to think of it, Russia has already had the dubious pleasure of running most of Europe for half the 20th century thankyouverymuch, and is in no hurry to have it back. But unless the euro-bigheads think very fast indeed, we may wake up to find the USA doesn’t want that burden either. For about 30 years this entire european facade has been running on imaginary money borrowed from America or printed out of thin air by the bankster boys. If the unlimited spigot of dollar bribes is turned off -what next?
I suspect we may be about to find out the hard way. When rats like Zelensky and Starmer are the best we can send to plead for scraps from the emperor’s table, we are already on the brink of something dire. It won’t all be doom and gloom, of course -Trump can very likely keep us laughing for a couple more years. Unfortunately, that show can only run until 2028. It will be a mighty hard act to follow.
Ian Andrew-Patrick
CHECK OUT OUR MAIN SITE ON SUBSTACK FOR THE LATEST POSTS: CLICK HERE
Comments
Post a Comment