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125. Poking with a stick

Posted on: December 12th, 2010 by Colonel Crabtree-Smythe No Comments

It seems to Otto Von Bismark Cartoon to me Sage gains some sort of pleasure from antagonizing myself and the great Otis Van Strapon, it may not come across in an obvious manner, but I know that Otis is most upset with him with regard the gross statements and sayings of the high priest of innuendo that is Sage Macorkadale. I mean to say that “Otis has German Tendencies” and I ask – what does that mean? It has to be an insult, German tendencies, I ask you! Are all Germans Nazis? Isn’t there such a thing as light and shade? We are all in the same boat as it were… so Sage behave… back off and leave our friends the Germans alone… leave them to their so called tendencies.

Moving on to a serious if not sensitive subject… Sage has suggested that I have unfairly called certain members of the Asian fraternity “Pakis!”and that I have been nothing but offensive, cruel and imperialistic like that chap from the film Romper Stomper or that other jolly good fellow in American History X. I say – nonsense! Utter left wing propaganda… I dont have problem with anyone unless they have a problem with me, and I hate to labour this point but I refuse to be drawn into a retarded argument about what words can be used and what words can not be, they are my words so don’t tell me how to use them, and do I care that you are offended?… no not a jot… couldn’t give a toss. I’ve said it before so I will say it again: I’m offended everyday by the nonsense I have been told by the lefty thought police that I must tolerate. Well if I have to tolerate the murder, death and destruction of our planet , the genocide that goes on every day in the name of one god, philosophy, political idea or corporate agenda you will have to put up with my odd slip of the tongue. You tell me I can’t smoke in a pub, you tell me I must wear a seat belt at all times, you tell me that all the CCTV is for my own benefit like that of Mr Kite. So I make this point, I say it is the liberals that separate us… they are obsessed with racial profiling, religious profiling, and nationalism in the guise of giving everyone a fair crack of the whip. I say if you want to give unbiased, fair multiculturalism a go, don’t ask me the color of my skin, where I was born, what my religion is. Ban faith schools, give people social housing on a first come for serve basis. I say a true liberal should never be offended, the word offense should not be in the vernacular. I am a true liberal I try to live in that truth, survival is my first instinct. I allow everyone to be who they are and to live there own way, as long as they don’t start getting delusions of grandeur and try to bring order to the world by trying to create there own Utopia by killing or silencing those who disagree with there point of view. I say ‘fuck off’ to those liberal fascists who try to tell you what you can or cannot do to your own body all in the guise of liberalism.

Now the point about it is the Pakistani peoples that I have met over the years find me to be approachable kind and gentle and they have found the humor in my candor and my truthfulness. They see me for what I am… the good, the bad and the ugly even when I refuse to eat their curried goat… they accept it because they would rather me to say “No I hate curried goat, it stinks the place out!” rather than to say “Oooh yes I loved curried goat” to lie, to placate in the name of multiculturalism. I won’t lie just to keep the peace in the name of liberalism.  My point is that it is lefty middle classes that don’t want you to be real, they would rather you lie and pretend to be all fluffy like Pat Butchers pink slippers. It is they, the poncy white left who seem to be sensitive in this regard sticking their noses where it’s not wanted, and Sage is one of them and I know he has been of late seen with Vanessa Redgrave and Peter Tachell discussing what is right for people to say when it comes to limp wristing in England. More bloody left wing rules.

Another point of order is Sage taking me to task about stick poking; I know I have had my moments with regard discipline in the ranks, but to say that I have a propensity for poking Paki’s, well! It’s a false accusation; I have chastised my friend Gupta on accusations for unlicensed cricket matches in the Townships gambling and I feel a little poke with my stick is warranted. Look my little cherubs… we all have a past to live with, my past constitutes that I should behave in a certain manner. I mean to say – compassion is a byword in the Crabtree Smythe’s world of wonder, I mean I have it on my own coat of arms, the insignia consists of two crossed batons with the words “compassion heals”. It’s a sad state of affairs when Sage says that I “lack the very thing that I am famous for!” And yes if my memory serves me well when I had to cut Gupta’s hand off for stealing one of my favorite sweets (I always like a sherbet lemon after luncheon and the unfortunate Gupta was seen sucking my last sweetie on the Veranda of my house in Rangoon). I mean we the British kept the peace in that volatile nation, I say that we set an example to the natives of that bountiful far land, and look at them now… killing each other in the name of religion.

Anyway, as I say compassion is the key of life and when I cut the hand of Gupta I gave him the choice of left or right hand, and when the unfortunate deed was done I had a male nurse standing by with an aspirin tablet, now you can’t be more compassionate than that Sage! So as I say Sage… don’t be so judgmental you don’t know what it’s like being me. Once again ladies and gentlemen we reach the final curtain and to wit the end of another series of memoirs. We will be back soon as soon can be.

Much love and thank you.
listen to episode on above player….

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P.S. See you next year…

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