Now #WikiLeeks, Wales’s own whistleblower website, targets Assembly politicians with astonishing revelations!
Truly shocking revelations from secret files intercepted by #WikiLeeks sympathisers mean that Welsh politics will never be the same again!
Here are some snippets from an article in THE SUNDAY TIMES of May 17, 2009 entitled “John Lewis’s wonderland”. One Daisy Waugh describes “The Welsh home of the ‘never knowingly undersold’ shopkeeper (John Lewis)” now up for sale in the heart of Sir Gaerfyrddin for “the same price as a boring terraced house in southwest London.”
“Poor old Wales. What’s actually wrong with it? Does anyone know? Apart from the unpronounceable road signs, which don’t really matter, and the rainfall, which can’t be much worse than, say, in Bristol, and the slightly irritating devotion to a language only kept alive by government edict and European subsidies – apart from all that, it’s just the same as anywhere else in Britain, isn’t it? Mostly green and pleasant. And a lot dozier than London.
There’s not much we’re allowed to snigger at in polite company any more. And yet somehow fat people and the whole of Wales slipped through the sensitivity net.
It must be one of the reasons why the remarkably lovely and extremely luxurious Upton Hall, seven miles from the county town of Carmarthen, is being offered for sale at such a laughably low price.
Anyway, all this could be yours, dear reader, including 22 acres of landscaped garden, for a mere £1.3m: the same price as a boring terraced house in southwest London.
John Lewis is long dead and buried, but clearly his legacy lives on. Nice house. Amazing price. (Never knowingly undersold.) Just a shame it’s in bloody Waaayells.“
The standard attitude of us servile, timid, respectful Welsh folk is to “take it on the chin”, “it’s only a joke”, “rise above it” etc. But just imagine the furore if I ended this piece by telling you that Ms Waugh lives in bloody Ing-gerrrr-land.
But don’t let’s rise above telling this daft little trollop what we feel about her comments about us, our language, and our snigger-worthiness.
I feel certain that Ms Waugh would be keen to hear the response of poor, benighted, ignorant, Welsh people. Her email address is:
daisy.waugh@sunday-times.co.uk
I am also sure that the editor of this most worthy of English organs would be interested to share our thoughts, so copy also:
letters@sunday-times.co.uk and online.editor@timesonline.co.uk
A co-conspirator sent us this amusing little snippet that is going the rounds.
Gordon Brown was visiting a primary school in Carmarthenshire where he looked in on one of the classes.
They were in the middle of a discussion related to words and their meanings.The teacher asked Mr. Brown if he would like to lead the discussion on the word ‘tragedy’.
So the illustrious leader asked the class for an example of a ‘tragedy’.A little boy stood up and offered: ‘If my best friend, who lives on a farm, is playing in the field & a tractor runs over him and kills him, that would be a ‘tragedy.’
‘No,’ said Brown……..’ that would be an accident.’A little girl raised her hand: ‘If a school bus carrying fifty children drove over a cliff, killing everyone inside, that would be a tragedy’
‘I’m afraid not,’ explained Mr. Brown ‘ that’s what we would call great loss‘The room went silent. No other children volunteered. Gordon Brown searched the room. ‘Isn’t there someone here who can give me an example of a tragedy?’
Finally, at the back of the room, little Dafydd raised his hand.
In a quiet voice he said: ‘If a plane carrying you and Mr. Darling was struck by a ‘friendly fire’ missile & blown to smithereens, that would be a tragedy.’‘Fantastic!’ exclaimed Brown. ‘That’s right. And can you tell me why that would be tragedy?’
‘Well,’ says little Dafydd ‘it has to be a tragedy, because it certainly wouldn’t be a great loss and it probably wouldn’t be a friggin accident either!’
HaHaHaHa!!! I know that Dafydd. Such an intelligent little chap.
Cambria has been sent a press release by the Association of Licensed Multiple Retailers (ALMR) quantifying the amount of booze our alcoholic elected masters in Westminster get through at our expense. Apparently the consumption is about the annual turnover of 35 pubs (and London pubs at that) and nearly £9000 per MP.
It would be interesting to know what the bar bill of the politicians that frequent the Eli Jenkins pub near the Senedd where the AMs drown their sorrows or forget to stub out their cigars.
Now many of us like a drink or two and some of us may even pay for a round but this is simply taking the piss.
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i-Cambria has news of an alleged ‘Royal Charm offensive’ in preparation for a possible investiture of Prince William to succeed Prince Charles as nominal Prince of Wales. See below for an extract taken from the main article.
Whatever one thinks of the involvement of the English monarchy with Wales (little as it has been recently) this will stir up a political hornet’s nest. A petition has already been launched and is gathering momentum… see here
The funny thing is that most people seem to have no objection to Prince William himself (as a young person), it is the use of him as a political pawn, particularly in the Welsh context, that seems odious to many.
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It’s difficult to know what Lord Elis-Thomas, defender of the Assembly and former university lecturer in modern Welsh literature, really made of this week’s row over the Senedd sex scene which a Llanelli TV company won “permission” to film in Lord Rogers’s new building.
It was supposed to be a scene of dialogue. You can imagine the script – “Give me it again,” and [censored].
Tonight’s episode of Caerdydd was almost as bad – actor makes as if he expects a kiss (and more?), and woman replies, “I haven’t got the time.”
Sorry about the English, but the sub-titles appear even before the words are mouthed in Welsh, so the first (?) language gets precedence in this piece.
It wasn’t clear where tonight’s scene was filmed. A buxom young secretary alleviates her boredom by, first kissing the screen on a photostat machine while her elderly and boring boss ignores her in the background, and then more daringly hitches up her jumper and copies her boobs onto the machine.
One only hopes she hit the A3 rather than the A4 button. Even better if she had used one of the A0 machines owned only by the National Library and a few architects and builders’ practices
The story got into The Independent – even though they should have asked their (non-existent stringer, or even PA, whose reporter works next-door to me and is a Welsh-speaker) how to spell National Assembly in Welsh). In this top-turvy news world we experience today, I suppose that is a big Assembly success.