Saint Eric Pickles' conversion from Communism

Eric Pickles took the road to Dorset. He had been sent to persecute the Tories for the Communists. On the road he was struck down by an almighty holy vision. It called him a twat amongst other things then disappeared. From that day forth Eric Pickles changed his way of life and joined those he had once persecuted. And that's how Saint Eric Pickles joined the Conservative Party.

                                            The End

Enoch Powell was right/ the rise of UKIP

How the Labour Party was reclaimed!

A long time ago in a Labour movement far,

far away...

The forces of evil had taken over the Labour Party. Blair look down upon his work feeling secure that any opposition had been terminated. The rebel cause was surely lost, the Labour Party could not be saved. Even the chosen one George Galloway would not join the fight to topple Blair and his minions after his surreal stint on Celebrity Big Brother.

The Rebel leader Len McCluskey sat in the darkness furrowing his brow. Sitting at his work station he glared at the reminders of the days when Labour was good and true. With a sigh and the mannerisms of a man weighed down by the most aggressive melancholy he looked at his Old Labour Liberty badge with its once bright emblem now faded, as he slugged his whiskey his eyes wondered to a photo of former Labour MP George Galloway. A thought entered his mind. No surely not, it can't be done, Tony Blair is in space! Len picked up the phone and dialled those fateful numbers, it may have been the drink, it may have been desperation but it had to be done. He reached the answer-phone message service, once its screaming tone was complete the words Len said would change Labour forever.

"Hello George it's Len.

Look I don't have much time, our rebels are busy fighting at Falkirk. I know you think we can't win and maybe your right but there might be a way. I have an idea and it's so crazy it might just work and your the only man with a hope in hell of doing it. Everyday Blair gets stronger as his disembodied head floats through the universe, it's the centre of New Labour's power. If you can find a way to destroy it I think the whole damn Labour Party will be saved."

Len put down the phone and sat contemplating when suddenly the phone began to ring. Len's shaking hand reached for the phone, it was Ed Miliband, a man McCluskey trusted to forward the Rebel cause. Len spoke.

"Good you're alive! How did the Falkirk operation go?"

There was a brief silence as Miliband replied,

"It's over Len. I was never one of yours, I called in the storm-troopers, your men are dead and you're next. You just couldn't see it could you? The old ways are gone and you just had to get in the way of Blair's new order old man".

As Ed hung up there was an ominous knock at Len's door. Before he had time to react the door burst open and Len was gunned down by two storm-troopers, the bullets ripped though him as he gave a last battle cry. The smoke vaporised from the end of the gun barrels and all was deathly silent. The Rebel leader McCluskey lay dead in a pool of blood, his hand still gripping tight his Old Labour Badge.

 Galloway eventually received Len's last request. His watery eyes filled with a look of grim determination. He walked into his garden where he kept his personal spaceship and shot out of the earth's atmosphere within minutes. Soon he set a rocketing pace through the cosmos deep into the darkest reaches of the universe.

On his radio-set he began to hear indistinct islamophobic mutterings and repeated hollow rhetoric. Blair was near. Galloway gazed upon the horrific sight that was Tony Blair massive head, his wild treacherous eyes staring behind a fixed fake grin. His only visible weaknesses seemed to be the small cracks in his teeth caused by his constant smiling. Galloway armed his missiles and attempted to auto-lock onto one of the cracks with the missile guidance system but the missile simply bounced off of Blair indestructible shit-eating grin. All seemed to be lost when the ghostly voice of Len McCluskey seemed to ring through Galloway's ears and resonate through the vacuum of space.

"Turn off the guidance systems! Use your own will. You have to believe Labour can be reclaimed. Believe! Believe!".

Galloway did as the voice told him as ignoring this advice would be bad ghost etiquette. He closed his eyes and pictured a Labour Party free of Blairism. He could see the sunny days ahead, children playing and a Party to be proud of. A Party that would grant the working class extensive well meaning reforms, a party that would not overthrow the evils of capitalism but make everything a little bit nicer until the reforms would be ultimately reversed by a future reactionary government. Galloway shed a tear at the prospect of this future. With only his belief he fired the missile, it hit the crack in Blair's teeth shattering them. Blair tried to scream but he could not be heard in the silent depths of space. A look of terror gripped him as his face began to explode. His eyeballs popped out of his skull and hurtled into the vastness of the universe. His skull broke into shards allowing chunks of warm slimy brain and tissue to spread across the galaxy like a putrid flower opening its rancid petals.

And with that the Labour Party was saved.

#GamerGate

What are gender and sexuality? How can they be destroyed?

Press a stoat's eYe into Your belly buTton and couNt to 10¬

"The thing's hollow — it goes on forever — and — oh my God! — it's full of rude things!"

We here at Radical Splurge have decided that sexuality and gender have become too complex after some smart-arse worked out that there was something wrong with gender binary. During in our research we found an atom of pure gender and observed it, the resultant impact of the raw sexuality and concentrated gender was too powerful to be recorded directly but could be glimpsed in a reflection of an observer's eye. One of our researchers went into shock for around 4 hours after glimpsing into their soul and finding they had deep seated repressed urges, they later stated that the effect was similar to that of drinking 3 pints or more. As we all know the best reaction to deep seated urges and identity revelations is to lock them deep DEEP DEEP AWAY WHERE THEY WON'T BE FOUND. This is best for both society and the individual as it will allow them to blindly follow social norms with only the crushing oppression of guilt lingering over them like a tormented shadow. Until Radical Splurge find some sort of scientific or psychological viewpoint to the contrary we shall continue to promote this course of action to avoid deviation from pre-set social norms.

In truth we do not know the method needed to destroy both gender and sexuality but we do know the key things needed are a toad, a block of stale Sugar Puffs and nails from both your little toes.

Ed Miliband in bed with neoliberalism aka Ed shits the bed

Interviews: The far right racist perspective on the Charlie Hebdo killings

To many the Charlie Hebdo shootings have been a great time of tragedy and a time of reflection. Many have pondered the source of Islamic Extremism and questioned the viability of liberal democracy itself in the face of such unflinching violence as well as our approach to the question of freedom of speech. None of these problems are easy to answer but Radical Splurge has taken the time to interview groups of people who have cut through the moral maze and demand action. The following interviews were made to member of far right groups who see a clear solution to these acts of backwards violence through their unique strategy of discrimination, alienation and systematic intolerance. These members all belong to their self proclaimed sub culture named 'Not Racist Butts', let's see if any of the Butts talked any sense.


Alf Barnet: Trouble with this is all these fucking Mooselmen coming over here. They ain't civilised and you see how they treat women over in Aldi Arabia and all that beating them up and oppressing them and stuff often when there's very little call for it. Not standing for them doin' that, that's my job.


Ian Smith: Well they say that not all Islams are violent but when you look at whatever it is the Islams read (which I haven't but someone clever like Richard Dawkins might of) you can see they're all about killing and all that; not like our good English religions like in the Bible cuz that story with the fucking Giant who had the kid who kept chucking rocks at 'im had every right to squish the little twat, I'd do the same. I mean Isimbards have tried to be peaceful like Mahatma Gandalf but he got shot for not killing enough and then he fell down a bloody great hole. Anyway he was probably a peado cuz he went round with all those little kids all the time but got to admit the last lot of kids are all really hairy and ugly, I mean they all have fuckin' beards.


Sarah Burke: Like its really bad because all those people have died, I mean I know they're foreign and all so it's not like a British person died but they were less foreign than the people who killed them. I think to stop them we need to send them all back, I'm all for religious freedom but we should ban anyone who's not Church of England. Just burn down all the synagogues or wherever these Muslims are hiding and all that. Plus if we did that the motorways wouldn't be all crowded and the M6 would become usable so good people like me can stop worrying about all this and get back to watching The Wombles on a Blu-ray box-set, I know it's only on DVD at the moment but that's because of immigrants.


Peter Weevil: They don't like the gays, do they the Muslimstanies? I mean niether do I, I'd rather lick a badger's ball-bag than not hate the gays, and that wouldn't be gay because everyone knows badgers are strangely feminine. Don't shake your head! You know what I mean!


Mary Jones: That Cat Stevens is a Muscleman, bet he's in on it like all of them are.


Mike Pratt: Well you have to understand the origins of Islamic fundamentalism are highly complex and surprisingly recent. In many ways the west is to blame for fundamentalism as its Imperialism made differences of ethnicity, race and religion more distinct for administrative purposes as well as for the benefits of divide and rule. Once the colonial project fell there was a strong secular side to Islamic nation states based on secular ideas largely from leftist anti-colonialist standpoints. This was not to last, once the leftist base fell as it did in Afghanistan and Iran it led to a vacuum that was filled by ultra radical Islam that capitalised on the disenfranchisement and anxiety of most people in the Middle East. Saying that though if I was in France I'd vote Front National.

Radical Splurge: With such a strong grasp of the political landscape and the history of Islamic fundamentalism I'm surprised that you would support that party. Why would you vote for them?

Mike Pratt: Oh it's because I'm a massive racist.

The Real Apocalypse

Val Doomican

 

Every generation has its view of the end of the world or the destruction of mankind. The ancient Greeks warned of the Titans attacking the gods, the Vikings had the vision of Ragnarök and the Bible predicts the apocalypse in the Book of Revelations. Throughout history we have believed these prophesies were upon us, The Black Death seemed to herald God's final judgement and countless others have tried to foresee the end in their superstitions. Of course none of these predictions were correct and today we have our own rational foresight to how the world and even the Universe will fall into desolation and nothingness. We have lived in fear of impending doom and in sober stoicism as we faced the reality of the ultimate cold death of all reality but we were wrong, something much worse is coming for us.

We have feared the effects of man-made global warming and worried about our complicity in the demise of life on earth. We have watched the destructive nature of global capitalism pillaging our planet and gluttonously devouring our resources watching in abject horror at how our greed seemed to be leading to our undoing. Man's destructive nature and the ever growing power of nuclear weapons has us living scared knowing we are potentially one button press away from annihilation. These are trivial threats, distractions. Only now after thousands of years of speculation and scaremongering do we know the terrible truth. Our fate is more terrible than we could have imagined, not just our fate but that of all existence past, present and future. The horrific nature of our fate can only be glimpsed at so far beyond human comprehension is its scale and malice, but its orchestrator can be known, it is none other than popular light entertainer Val Doonican.

No-one knew that each and every rock of his rocking chair, every puff of his pipe and every soothing note he sung were carefully calculated to let him build his master plan. 20 million people watched him mesmerised by his curmudgeonly presence as he sat by the fire building trust with his carefully selected 1970s yellow jacket and tie holding a subconscious tacky authority over an unwitting British public. There is no way to stop him now, he has grown too powerful and is ready to strike. If you look into his once seemingly warm and welcoming eyes you might just glimpse the unthinkable torment awaiting you. Be warned that what is in store would make Beelzebub vomit through his eyes. I gazed into the abyss but it did not just look back into to me, there was something worse, all I can hear is the screams muted only by something even more unspeakable.

The End Is Nigh. You can't run! You can't hide! You can't even pray! How could we have been so blind?