Wednesday 26 March 2008

'It's all relative, naturally', says Chucklebutty - The Night of the Penknives, De-selection, Darwen's theory and Status Quo Vadis

By Jove, Missus!

It is with ill-disguised rage (a plastic nose and false moustache) that I address the people of Grotty Cash today.

I should have known by previous experience to expect this, but the recent turn of events has taken even my breath away.

(Which should save me a few bob on extra strong mints).

Yes Missus, The Night of the Penknives has started!

Now we all knew this would happen, but here’s the twist.

It’s Wee Wally Bradlow, that is holding the knife, (well he has to have a grown-up with him or a Teacher) while the gutless Diddymen of the Glib-Dums bring their knitting into the Chuckle Chamber and mutter under their wheezing last breaths before May.

Yes Missus, I am talking about DE-SELECTION!!!!!
Now I warn you ladies and gentlemen, this is not the usual rambling of Sir Diddy, when he hacks into my Blog to peddle his tales of woe, poverty, discomknockeration and having to survive on a pension.
No this is the full Academic thrust, calm down missus, of my Professorship.
I will be dealing with scholarly and philofaxical issues.

So with that warning, before I continue to explain my personal rage at what has taken place, allow me to enlighten those of you who may be unfamiliar with the “Selection” theories of Charles Drake, contained in his major work on Evolution, “Hello My Darlings” or The Survival of the Fattest Cat.

Now, I always say don’t bother with the book when you can see the movie.
So as you may recall from the film “I’ve Inherited Wind” when Samantha’s husband Darren, from “Bewitched” gave up advertising and got a job as a school teacher, he had to go to court to fight the church and the establishment over the right to teach children about the “Natural Selection” of Councillors.

The “Monkey Trial”, as it became known.

The establishment argued that “Creation” must be taught in our schools and it is against Sod’s Law to say we end up with Monkeys in our council chambers.

They presented their arguments based on religious teachings and the Book of Genesis from the Gospel of Rick Walkman.
Now Darwin, that’s Charles, and not to be confused with Darren, in the film, although his mother-in-law sometimes called him Darwin in bewitched, where was I?

Yes, Darwin presented his case quoting from the Book of Genitals, often dismissed as bollocks, by the church, whereby it is believed that only through a process of natural selection may Humankind be trusted to hold political office, otherwise you just get Monkeys.
This angered the establishment, to have their political representatives compared to Apes and they pointed to an example of a local councillor who was also remarkably, although highly unlikely, a direct descendent of Darwin, none other than Councillor Frank Darwin of the Dickensian Fields ward.

Are we to believe, they challenged, that this fine councillor standing here before you is an accident of nature? Can you compare this good man, to a Monkey?

Now this would have been a strong argument, had Frank not been swinging on a tyre at the time, after somebody had dumped 2,000 of them in his constituency.

But let us focus on the main theological arguments.

Briefly, the Establishment or Creationist view teaches that Sod is the divine selector, he created the first man, who was called Dick, and Sod placed him alone in Sir Anthony Eden’s Garden, where he could eat Liberal helpings of what ever he liked, apart from Ramsey Macdonald’s forbidden fruit MacFlurry.

Now Dick, or “Clueless” as he is referred to in ancient Greek Kebab texts, (he was after all the first of his kind and had little knowledge of the new world or calorie controlled diets), started eating everything in sight, apart from the vegetables.

So the Creationists believe that a Barbecued Rib was taken from the side of Dick’s plate and that this was used to create a Turnip, or as it was later to be known, a Bernie Turnip.






















We all know it today as a fairly tasteless vegetable with an odd perfume and usually half-baked. Now she started to pinch all the burgers off of his plate and they began fighting over the Pizzas. Yes, Missus, Pizzas are as old as that, BC (big crust) not just AD (Anno Domino’s).
Now the Turnip, they argue, was enticed over to the yellow arches of the MacDonald tree that formed a large “M” in the garden, by an oily haired serpent that smelled of Peroni.

The Serpent asked the Turnip if she would like some MacFlurry and if she wanted fries with it. She of course scoffed the lot and felt great shame when she later stood on the bathroom scales. When Dick saw that there was none of the MacFlurry left for him he tried to vote her out of Edens’garden but being only two of them, they could not get a majority and so to resolve this dilemma they began to begat. When they had begatted enough, and since there was no risk of disease at that time they were able to have safe seats, they formed the first council through which they could make decisions about who gets all the free dinners.

But in doing so, they lost their innocence and any chance of developing original thought and so became destined to remain glib and dumb.

The first Glib-Dum council.
(Note: It is interesting that from their later begattings they formed a Brewery and a Pop group, Cain and Abe. Cains is still around purveying fine ales but the other is now lost without record, apart from a brief appearance in the film epic 'Status Quo Vadis' and a support role in the Name of the Father).

Charlie Darwin challenged this simplistic literal view of the creation and the selection of councillors and it has of course been challenged by many scholars with strange hair, including, Sir Melvin Blogg, of the Southbank Show who, on this very subject, did a 26 week series on Men and Motors.

Sir Melvyn examined new translations of ancient texts carried out by Professor Stanley Unwin, of Invercockieleekie University(regular readers will be familiar with his work)

According to Professor Unwin, said Blogg “the words used in the Gospelloes have hold severmole different meanings as our linguode has developmost over a periole of two thrimsold years or more”.

The quote is taken from Unwins' Cereal work “ Darwin’s Theoromes on the developmode of Silly Consoles and the Teacherings of the Gospelloes.” Chapto 2 The Deaf Sea Scrawls.

For example, Professor Unwin points out that Peroni, is an early Aramaic word for Story and that the word Serpent is a corruption of Servant, so, “one who serves a story” A Story Teller. The fact that Peroni is now also the name of a beer that is a bit “pissy”, Unwin jokes rather crudely, means that the whole account is that of a supposed servant and storyteller who today would be seen as somebody who is “taking the piss”.

Therefore, nothing relating to the Glib-Dums is to be believed or taken literally.
So there you have it ladies and gentlemen.

The finest scholars and academics and even Sir Melvyn Wig agree that the Glib-Dums must allow natural selection to produce our elected representatives and not base it on a fat-filled diet of nose-bagging and underhand plotting by serpents.

The recent work by Professor Unwin, who incidentally used to be on the same pub quiz team with me, whilst at Cambridge (the pub not the University) but that is beside the point as we never won anything and he was a total liability, anyway his work is beyond dispute by those who can understand it.

So it is for this reason that I began with ill-disguised rage.

Can you remember that far back?

I shall explain.
Against all the proven laws of natural selection, I, Professor Chucklebutty, have been de-selected through the conniving and plotting of Wee Hamish Bradlow and Dickey Mint the Storeyteller.

Thwarting my chance of becoming the Elected Mayor for the City of Grotty Cash.

After receiving 80% of the vote crushing the latest rival Phyll the Lord Redlips and smashing the original sole candidate, Mr Foghorn Leggarty with his outspoken “An Elected Mayor, I say Mayor, for Grotty Cash” campaign.

80% missus!

How many of them got that share of the vote?
Alright it was only 29 actual votes, but that is democracy.

And why ladies and gentlemen have Bradlow and Dickey Mint allowed this penknife to be brought out? Is it because people dared to ask?

I got Beatrice Franksfornothing to ask a few awkward questions about finance and then young Kenny Forthright to ask, Wally who it was that booked Mr Plinka-Plonka as the sole outdoor event for the disastrous Matt Munro Street Festival last year and how much did it cost?

Both were shown the usual local Glib Dum tolerance of anybody who attempts to question them, and swiftly deselected with a size ten boot up the clucass.

Two unmistakeable giggles could be heard coming from the room next door.

By Jove, somebody pass me a dictionary to look up the words liberal and democrat again….I better check socialism while I am there, as that may have been modified ever so slightly in the last few years.

But that’s the old style politics.

As a former Jam butty miner I am of course a Neo Preservative so as far as I am concerned it’s all a load of ballots.

And my question, I hear you ask?

What caused the wrath of my former little friend Wally Bradlow to plunge the de-selection knife into the old Professor?

Well I simply asked, why was a poor vulnerable pensioner like Sir Diddy forced to retire on a measly £395,000 pay-off when there was still tens of millions waiting to be squandered and poured down the pan.

Some of that could have been poured in my direction!

They threw me down the steps of the Chuckle Chamber.

How dare they!?

I shall now consider whether to stand as an Independent.

In which case, I shall bring back flogging.

That’s if they haven’t flogged everything by the time I step into my converted motorised Lambanana Mayoral Limousine.
Tatty Bye Everybody Tatty Bye!

9 comments:

Tori Blare said...

Utter brilliance Chucklebutty, utter brilliance!
I would love to know what you do for a living?
brilliant using the bible as comparison.

Anonymous said...

Oh Chucklebutty I am speechless you were truly wonderful and have excelled yourself this time....swoon . swoon

Anonymous said...

Absolute genius!

Anonymous said...

Hello Tori and Dame Butty-Packer how nice to hear from you both. Tori I was beginning to think you too had resigned. In answer to your question, I am now officially retired as Professor of Applied Cling-Film but have recently been on yet another lecture tour of the Cotswolds. I am amazed I get such large audiences for my talks and slide shows on the reproductive life of the Winkle. But they are mad for it down there! Dame BP careful, you will have Sir Diddy jealous

I mentioned the gutless glib dums in my piece, so may I congratulate the former Executive Member for Abdication, I mean Education, for bucking the trend and showing that there is some honour and dignity left in this sorry excuse for a council and also to extend regards to young Kevin Froth for
having to pay the price for standing up to aggresion and Bullies. Where's Esther Rantzen when you need her?

Bradlow's pathetic response? It is about being passionate and if that's seen as aggression...blah blah, yes I think that is the cry of the football yob, passionate about his team that excuses thuggery.

Storeyteller is not even worthy of comment, the sickening little wretch.

You were welcome to all the fish Kevin sorry to hear you also got battered. But a very nice touch to your letter. It's not even as if you asked about the question about life the universe and everything. But you now seem to be led by Vogons only not as good looking.

Clein, Antrobus, Firth, will they be the new Three Graces? Posessing what is sadly now lacking elsewhere, intelligence, some dignity and some honour? I leave out Fraenkel as I never liked the fourth grace concept but it equally applies to her and Antrobus. And Marbrow? As pompous as he is, at least he has a working brain and knew Storey was/is an idiot. How demoralising for him to then have Wally Bradlow as a leader.
But possibly Clueless is just too tarnished by Dr Mac association.

Let's see if any more of them have an ounce of courage or dignity left in the run up to oblivion. Well done Clein, did I say it's German for Diddy? Yes I did and so Diddhe, By Jove!

Tori Blare said...

The 3 graces will have to meet up and plot and plan around the cauldron, but be careful, I have been told that Peroni is on offer at Home and Bargain... another 3 graces may be meeting, Amazing.

Moaning Mldred said...

Bird in picture did a shite in woman's hands, ...recycle that Bernie Turnip

Moaning Mldred said...

someone called soothsayer is claiming you are not real! say it aint so butty, say it aint so?!

Anonymous said...

By Jove Mildred, ignore these Sooth Sayers and shop at Sooth Greggs instead.
The sausage rolls are much nicer!

To be on the safe side though, I have checked to see if I exist with the Grotty Cash Parish47 Register of Berks, Debts and Cabbages and can confirm that as far as the records show, I am real.

The entry reads as follows

16th October 1907
A son (or possibly a bald Gerbil)
Name Yaffle Montgomery Chucklebutty
Place of Birth: The Snug, Harry Cott’s Gin and Whelk Bar,
18 Cholera Road, Grotty Cash.

Mothers Name: Mildred Chucklebutty (another Mildred eh?)
Nee: Mildred Slice
Place of Birth: Village of Schlappentickle in Bavaria.
Occupation: Yeast Scraper
(Yes story goes that father went into the local cake shop were she worked, Grieggs, and said he fancied a Bavarian slice. Don't know what he was doing in Bavaria, he only went out for 5 woodbines and the Echo)

Fathers Name: Alice (grandma was short-sighted) Charles Chucklebutty
Place of Birth: Vapours, Grotty Cash,
Occupation: Seeder in Raspberry Jam Mine, Ventriloquist and Mattress Springer.

So there documented proof.

I am happy to also put your mind at rest that Tony Polish also exists.
I was unfortunate enough to be on the Number 12a Bus with all 47 of them last week, singing bawdy songs, swearing, falling about drunk, mooning out of the window and finally being sick on an old ladies Chihuahua . The behaviour was so dreadful that in the end they threw me off the bus.

Pete Price, does not actually exist I am sorry to say; he was invented by celebrities to ensure their names are mentioned at every opportunity. The actor who plays him is in fact 96-year-old Mr Arthur Snells from Higher Bebington. Although Arthur is classically trained, his only other acting roles has been as “Man winking at Mrs Fox” (to the annoyance of Corporal Jones who bayonets him to death) in a live episode of Dad’s Army, where he had his only line “ I bet they’d cost a few coupons”.
He also had a similar role in Emmerdale, winking at Dolly Skilbeck before being punched by Mat causing him to collapse and die on the floor of the Woolpack. (In response, Amos said, “ Eee, I’ll get the brush”. He winked at Noel Gordon in Crossroads just before he was crushed to death by Miss Diane, (Benny’s Donkey) who had gone berserk after swallowing Amy Turtles laxatives, and in Coronation Street, he climbed onto Minnie Caldwell’s roof to rescue Bobby and gave her a wink just before he slipped and fell, impaling himself on Len Fairclough's spirit level. (Bobby was fine) This fear of typecasting made him give up acting until Max Clifford offered the role of Pete Price to him. He now even has his own radio show!

Soothsayer is just trying to scare you, I don’t believe in all that parabolic nonsense.

We are all real. It is Wally Bradlow, Storyteller, Jasper Harbottle and Sir Diddy and co. that we made up. You didn’t think characters like that could really exist and get away with all the crazy antics did you? Why they’d have the standards board after them, I mean who would vote for or pay for people like that? They’d never get away with it.

Right, I’m off round to Sir Diddy’s place; it’s our Gin Rummy night.

Tatty Bye Mildred, Tatty Bye

Anonymous said...

I knew it was a wind-up when Soothsayer finally said Bradley would win the local elections. As if! Do they think the people of Liverpool could be taken in by such a gang of ne'er do wells, crooks and scallies? On second thoughts, don't answer that.