By Myer Pinion


READER: Are you enjoying the fireworks?
MYSELF: Pardon?
READER: I said...(Bang!) ARE - YOU - ENJOYING - THE (Whoosh..zzz...BANG!) fireworks?
MYSELF: sorry I didn't (Woof woof woof. wooof. WOOF WOOF, woof!) quite get that. Did you say "am I joining the (Boom! Phweee!) fire service"?
READER: What did you say? (BOOM!)
MYSELF: Ah, that's better, I think they've finished...(Screeeeeeam! Whoosh!.... FUCKING ENORMOUS EXPLOSION, woofwoof woofwoof woof!)
READER: Nope, sorry, didn't get any of that.


Yes, that's how it goes during Hastings' Pyromania-obessed  "Bonfire Season", which lasts approximately from October 1st to New Year's Eve. Every night between those two dates, (that's every night folks), Hastings celebrates Guy Fawkes' unsuccessful 1605 parliamentary coup with a sound and fury signifying nothing (nothing, that is, unless you are a dog or a cat or a wild animal, when you will be under the impression that the world is about to end).
Meanwhile a very successful parliamentary coup happened in 2019, under their very noses, without a rocket being fired or a single banger big enough to deafen a small village being set off. Dominic Cummings, the quiet Guy Fawkes, will be gone by Christmas, he promises, but sadly for the animal kingdom and anyone annoyed by antisocial overgrown schoolboys, fireworks will remain.


I’d like to address the furious members of the Russell Brand Cult of the Narcissistic Windbag, who protest that in British Law one is innocent until proven guilty. That is patently true, and until the Guru of Gobshite’s expensive (mainstream) lawyers have finished trying to untangle his hyperactive bollocks from the barbed wire of snowballing accusations, the babbling bawbag of bombast must be considered as innocent as Michael Jackson’s monkey.
What is patently not in contention however is the fact that Mr Brand’s popularity with loyal cult members rests entirely on his ability to dazzle them with the bleeding obvious: This he achieves by asking the questions no one else dares to, viz: Could the Pope be the head of the Roman Catholic faith? Bears: If left to their own devices, would they shit in the woods? In order to make the bleeding obvious seem more like a dark secret revealed to him on a stone tablet, the louche drama-school fraud dresses everything up in a dense thesaurus of Dickensian cock. Thus we are asked (after wading through pages of garrulous garbage):- Are large corporations dedicated to generating as much profit as possible? Are arms manufacturers in favour of wars? Do pharmaceutical companies quite like it when we are ill? And if you didn’t get it the first time, is it possible that popes and bears tend to behave in an entirely predictable way when it comes to catholicism and woods?
All this I maintain to be self-evident, beyond any reasonable doubt and as plain as the deep-state nose on the iconoclastic paradigm of your face.


The new Old Testament
Ten eyes for an eye
Ten teeth for a tooth
Thou shall kill


* King Sparky Hullabalulu, Mighty Grand Wizard and Potentate of Pomegrania, arrived in Hastings recently on an official state visit to mark the towns' twinning with Utterfrack, Pomegrania's capital city. At a special ceremony, Lord Mayor of Hastings Derek Windfarm presented King Sparky with a Hastings & St Leonards Warriors FC away strip (pink polka dots on imperial purple), a season ticket (restricted view), and a printed mug celebrating last year's Alistair Crowley Day. Thanking His Highness, the mayor gratefully accepted in return the King's gifts of a live ostrich and a diamond studded Mickey Mouse watch.


Good question. Rather than expect an instant reply, I would first invite certain persons to interview any musician in Hastings who has to put up with creepy exhibitionists who have given themselves Carte Blanche to attend their gigs and shake their genitals in other people’s faces. “He went to a nude beach in Bournemouth, and that’s when he decided to become a naturist”. Thus the art of public exhibitionism is disguised as a lifestyle choice and published by ( and I use the term very very loosely) a “journalist”, desperate to prove his wokeness (and in the process revealing that he may have protested just a little bit too much).
I would ask any self-styled “journalist” who dares to tread this attention-seeking road one simple question, (albeit not confident of getting a straight answer, no bum intended): why are all beaches not nudist beaches? Relax. Study the question carefully. Your time starts now.


Being anti Zionist just means you are against imperialist piracy, blatant theft, and ugly ideals wrapped up in the Old Testament.