Saturday, April 29, 2006

Ten unamerican things, and one unamerican "national anthem".

E.R. is always on the look out for the use of the word Unamerican because most of the time it it's used in reference to these sort of things:
1. Free health care - unamerican.
2. Public transport - unamerican.
3. Free education - unamerican.
4. Disarmament - unamerican.
5. Peace - unamerican.
6. Having wonky teeth - unamerican.
7. Buying a small car - unamerican.
8. Buying a coke in any size smaller than a gallon - unamerican.
9. Walking - unamerican.
10. Not tucking your shirt inside your trousers - unamerican.
So we were rather miffed to find ourselves agreeing, for once, with the twats that love using this word, when it's used to describe the new Spanish version of the Star Spangled Banner.
Even Georgie Bush has been drawn into it, primarily because the American media and public has swallowed hook line and sinker something very American - hype.
To call the new Spanish version of the song, with a few tweaks here and there, the national anthem is indeed, as we say in London, a load of old cobblers.
Nuestro Himno is, ironically, the product of a British record producer.
None of the profits are going to the causes it professes to support, because it's a pop song.
It features Wyclef John, among others, and is, er, a pop song.
Yes, it has most of the same words as the Star Spangled Banner, but it's a pop song.
Yes, patriotic Spanish-speaking American people might sing it cos they like it, but it's a pop song.
Yes, in some cities Spanish-speaking Americans may outnumber those that speak English as a first language, but it's a pop song.
Yes, it might make a point about the use of Spanish speaking illegal slave labour, immigration issues, and the like, but it's a pop song.
They're even bringing out a remix of it for christ's sake - because IT'S A POP SONG.
And yes, it's a very Unamerican national anthem.
Because it's not the American national anthem at all.
It's a pop song.

Friday, April 28, 2006


Green David is such a fucking knob. I mean what kind of cunt of a right wing leader would try and persuade you that he's "green" by cycling to work every day - and then, as revealed today on BBC Radio 4 - HAVE A CAR FOLLOW HIM BEHIND CARRYING HIS SHOES AND BRIEFCASE? E.R. is not sure we've ever seen any politician, even a Conservative Party Leader, piss in our boots so much. What's that you say David? It's raining? Of course it is mate. Now fuck off.


Britain's biggest selling newspaper, The Sun, caught English Ranter's comparison of Conservative leader David Cameron and Moomintroll and featured it in today's whip column.
Of all the places E.R. might have appeared, it didn't exactly expect the piss take to be put in Rupert Murdoch's most famous tabloid and in front of its 10 million "readers", but we'll definitely take it!
They didn't quote the post, which can be seen under April 27, below.


I can see what they mean...

Thursday, April 27, 2006


It comes as no surprise that an intensive poultry farm records Britain's most recent case of bird flu - just days after the country was given the all clear from the swan scare in Scotland.
And in which county?
Norfolk, home of Bernard Matthews, who earlier this week had his farms exposed as sick fucking torture houses for the millions of "bootiful" turkeys he slaughters every year.
As reported in E.R. last month, the risk of bird flu does not come from wild birds, but from factory farmed birds.
Almost every major outbreak from Beijing to Belgium has been from a factory farm.
Despite 20,000 dead wild birds being handed in to authorities in the UK after the infected swan washed up on a Scottish beach, not one had the virus.
Yet today, within the apparent safe confines of a factory farm, bird flu is found and 35,000 birds are immediately slaughtered.
Think about it.
How does bird flu get inside a locked building in Norfolk?
This new case is of course the catastrophe no one wanted. Bird flu is not spread by wild birds. If it were, the case of bird flu found on British soil in 1953 would have caused the deaths of thousands of birds.
It didn't.
But in 1953 we didn't have factory farms. In 1953 we didnt spread the chicken shit from factory farms over our fields. And in 1953 convenience food outlets like KFC hadnt yet reached these shores, and there was the vague recognition that the way we treated animals and the way eating them affects our health, might be connected.
The swan washed up in Scotland a month ago had almost certainly fed from a field covered in factory-farmed bird shit in Germany, and died at sea.
Yesterday the magazine Nature published an article suggesting that if the human form of the disease spread to the UK it would be virtually impossible to contain, with 1 in 3 people likely to catch it, and a fair chunk of those likely to die from it.
Hold on to your hankerchiefs.
It may not be this month, or even this year, but it is on its way.


Sorry, not sure where that pic came from. The E.R. picture desk isn't what it used to be.
Looks as though there's no room for an Englishman once again as the head of the English football team.
Brazilian Luiz Felipe Scolari, former World Cup winning manager and current manager of Portugal, has been offered the job as head of England's national football team (that's soccer for you yanks).
Undoubtedly the best qualified man for the job, the decision stinks however of the FA being just plain scared to appoint one of the bunch of talented but unproven England club managers that applied for the job. But it will annoy the Daily Mail no end, so E.R. is quite happy.
Apparently Scolari didn't even apply.
Though technically they are just talking terms, it's unlikely the FA won't be able to come up with a proposition Scolari will go for, as he's already said publicly he's like to coach England.
If you love football, you might find quite amusing, especially if I ever get around to updating it again (I will).
If you'd like to see the rest of the picture above, E.R. fears you may have come to the wrong site...the only cunt here is pictured next to Moomintroll a couple of posts down...

When The Sun Goes Down (on your credibility)

There comes a moment in every band's life when they just stop being cool anymore.
It's not their fault, they can't control who likes them.
Spandau Ballet were cool for about six minutes, and that was only when they got locked out of the recording studio in the snow one day.
The Arctic Monkeys have done a bit better than that.
But the UK BBC1 soap opera EastEnders dealt the lads a killer blow as Dr Oliver was caught singing along to them on his i-pod (they stopped being cool in 2003 by the way, if you're bothered) by "Little" Mo in his surgery.
Didn't do the doc any harm, he got a shag out of it.
At least the boys can think themselves lucky it wasn't his predecessor, the 85-year-old wonky-legged Dr Legg.
He definitely wouldn't have looked good on the dancefloor.

Separated at birth?

One's a dumb blue stupid animal with a big fat moonface and not a clue about politics.
The other is a cartoon character called Moomintroll.

Worn with pride

This is my new favourite badge. I can't remember the last favourite badge I had. It was either cycling proficiency in 1974 or a little mod target with The Jam written on it in 1979. Anyway, it's been a while.
So this is my new one.
If readers outside the UK aren't aware of the Daily Mail's work, they are a bunch of right-wingers pretending to represent the mid-market of the British press.
I find them all the more evil because they pretend to be nice.
They probably don't know who I am, but if they did, they'd definitely hate me...
or at least I hope so...

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

English Ranting: A Beginner's Guide (just in case you're new here)

Welcome to English Ranter.
It's not just you.
Everything IS shit.
When England plunged into civil war in the 17th Century, a radical group called the English Ranters were formed.
There was no authority they respected any more, and so they turned to their own logic for inspiration. They believed that if God was inside nature and themselves, there could be no sin. They put swear words in their church hymns cos they thought it was big and clever.
They got naked.
As long as it involved having a good time, shouting, taking your clothes off and/or didn't hurt anyone, they did whatever the fuck they liked.
The only real evidence that the ranters existed at all comes from writings by conservatives in authority at the time about how terrible they were.
This has led some historians to believe that they were mythical bogey men, invented by those wanting to bring Britain out of anarchy and restore order.
But ranters were very real.
They had seen their monarchy become a laughing stock.
The church either only wanted their money, aligned itself with the far right, or was out of touch with the problems faced by ordinary people.
Cromwell's New Model Army was a democratic walking slaughter house and it was running the government and murdering innocents at home and abroad.
Sound familiar?
The ranters didn't want to fight, they wanted to have a good time.
The only thing they owned to have fun with were their minds and bodies.
They didnt give a shit what people thought of them, primarily drinking and shouting to be heard amidst the medieval chaos, and to wipe out the madness around them.
They were drunken Libertines formed of working class Londoners who knew the world was mad as hell, and they just couldn't take it anymore.
Welcome to the English Ranter.
350 years old and counting.
Reborn on the web in 2006.


I met John Prescott 'back in the day' in John Ruskin House, Croydon.
When people say back in the day these days they usually mean when the E's worked or at least when the pills worked and they didn't have to take the kids to school the next day.
Back in the day in this case was 1987. Thatcher had begun her third term in office, and something called a computer was mooted to be coming to a journalist's desk, as opposed to the 1950s typewriters that dominated news rooms up and down the country.
Because computers meant that whole swathes of costs of making a newspaper could be cut out, journalists realised that it was a chance to get a bit more of the cake, since they would now be doing the work of typesetters and printers no longer needed to get a paper out.
At the time, the average local hack earnt £11k, the average local printer earnt £18k.
It only seemed fair.
As the leader of my local union, at the tender age of 20, I led a newsroom of some 30 journalists on a strike, as management had told us we were to get nothing.
The Labour party was a bit of a shambles, but John Prescott MP, always up for a fight, came down to give us what we thought would be a bit of a rallying speech in John Ruskin House.
As it was, he was quite good at shouting, but was also paid by the print union rather than the journalist's union, so didn't really understand what we were moaning about.
Still never mind.
He told us stories of his time as a union leader on ships, and banged his fist on the table.
We liked that kind of thing.
The Government's disastrous April 2006 continues, as news comes that Mr Prescott has been having an affair with a secretary.
It's all true, but I still find it hard to believe that anyone apart from his poor wife would ever shag him though.
What a thought.
By the way, after 3 months picketing, we won the battle, and secured a 22% pay increase for journalists nationwide using these pesky computer things.
On the day I returned to work after leading the strike, I found a letter on my new computer, and myself and the two other union representatives involved, were made immediately "redundant".

Official estimates are that 9,000 deaths have been caused by the Chernobyl disaster...

...but nine-year-old Alexandra wasn't even born when Chernobyl happened 20 years ago today, and certainly isn't dead yet.
She lives with her father Vitaly in the highly contaminated area of Belarus, affected by the Chernobyl disaster.
He has had to give up work to look after her.
Not one penny has been spent on the war against the terror of nuclear power.
Experts estimate that the disaster is responsible for 20,000 cancers from fall out in the UK alone.
Countries previously against nuclear power, including Sweden, are building new nuclear power stations, and China plans to build almost 50 new reactors in the next 20 years.
The UK government is "undecided" about whether a nuclear solution is the right one to Britain's negative-energy status.
Greenpeace believes the death toll from the accident is already at 90,000 - and that the figure could treble as generations are affected by cancers caused by radiation 20 years ago.

Officially 9,000 people have died from the disaster at Chernobyl, but maybe it's time to... sisters Irina and Yelena.
They live in an area of Belarus contaminated by the Chernobyl disaster 20 years ago today.
Irina had a brain tumour which had to be removed, which is a pretty rare event.
Yelena has also had a brain tumour, which had to be removed.
Both now have thyroid problems.
Not one penny has been spent on a war on terror of nuclear power.
Greenpeace believe the total count of casualties from the diaster will reach over 90,000 deaths.
It is believed that 20,000 people in the UK have cancer from the fallout on British soil.
The government is "undecided" whether there is a nuclear solution to the world's energy problems.

Tuesday, April 25, 2006


He has got a moonface, even in a fucking concave mirror.
If you're not sure about UK Conservative leader David Cameron, take a look at - the little film is fucking hilarious (it's at the bottom of his blog).
Dave's flip-flops, also on the site, is not.
He's a cunt.


One of the BBC's lead stories today is that petrol in the UK will top £1 a litre (that's equivalent to US $8 a gallon of "gas") by the summer.
Hmm, well done guys. I think they have something like 600 UK journalists.
English Ranter told you this on this very blog on April 14...

There's a little bit of Homer in all of us (and my little bit is my mouth)

Woke up this morning, found out I'd turned into Homer Simpson.
Or at least my mouth has.
I've noticed this coming on for a while now. It's those lines top left and right of my mouth. When I first watched The Simpsons I thought Homer's mouth was weird. A bit like a monkey's mouth (check out Bruno below).
Now I've got it.
No one's ever going to snog me again.
Still, he's three years younger than me, and I've still got more hair than him.
It also means I've got a mouth like a cunt.
No, I don't mean it's rude. Or that I don't like the very excellent Homer.
Check out regular Ranter visitor Fatfiz's picture site, go right to the bottom, underneath all those shiny scooters of his, and you'll see what I mean...

Monkey news

Meet Bruno the chimpanzee.
In fact, try not to meet Bruno. If you do meet Bruno, run for your fucking life, he's as hard as nails.
When five construction workers entered his monkey sanctuary in Sierra Leone the other night, he killed one, ripped the arm off another, and left three more in hospital.
Then escaped with two pals off into the jungle.
Or what's left of it.
The reason he was in the sanctuary in the first place is that Bruno and other chimps are under threat from logging, hunting and human encroachment.

Monday, April 24, 2006

What's the difference between Chelsea Football Club and Princess Michael of Kent?

One's fucked without a rich Russian, the other one's fucked when they're with one.
Are my jokes getting any better?


Those that think my rants about the price of raw resources pulling the rug from under the feet of the economies that depend on them are premature, should consider this fact:
Increases in metal costs means it now costs 1.4 cents to make a 1 cent coin.
Soon it will be profitable to melt down 1 cent coins since the metal they contain will be worth more than 1 cent.
Does that make, er, sense?


Number of people thought to be infected with virus worldwide: 45 million
Number of drugs companies interested in producing new anti-AIDS gel that stops spread of disease without condom use: Zero.
Reason: Main market for gel is African women, who in general have low or no income.

9 Monday-morning office greetings to say to your boss if you really want them to leave you alone today

1. "I eat my own poo."
2. "From now on I want you to call me Emily." (if you're a man)
3. "From now on I want you to call me Kevin." (if you're a woman)
4. "My dog wouldn't stop howling all weekend. I'm not sure it likes me fist-fucking it."
5. "I'll do that thing straight after I've had a wank in the loo"
6. "I'm in such a good mood. My cock was so hard over the weekend I finally picked up channel 5 on my TV" (you can use this one if you're a man or woman)
7. "I'm not so sure about this thing about murder being bad. I did it yesterday and it felt really good."
8. "Morning! I've got a knife in my pocket!"
9. "My boyfriend is really getting to know me better. He fucked me wearing a donald duck mask and wellingtons this morning."
Anyone got any ideas for a 10th?


With all the short sightedness of someone who wants to be liked but who doesn't have a fucking clue, UK Conservative leader David Cameron today told Britain to "keep on driving" - but to drive a bio-fuel car.
Unveiling his new Lexus, which in its very creation left a carbon footprint bigger than non car owners use in a whole year, he boasted about how his carbon footprint was being reduced.
What a twat.
Using the one he had would have been greener.
So, even if he did actually need a new car, Green David also says people "shouldn't cut down on the driving they are doing, but just drive in a greener way".
What cock.
As already reported in English Ranter last month, the rise in demand for bio-fuels is already devastating rainforests around the world.
In Brazil the rainforests are shrinking as global palm oil sales becomes big business, and farmers are chopping down rainforests to plant palms instead.
In doing so not only do they wipe out wildlife, but also chop down the one thing that helps us convert CO2 back to carbon and oxygen - rainforests.
In Borneo, protected Orang Utangs have now lost their habitat and are back on the brink of extinction thanks to farmers chopping down trees and planting palms so that Green David can drive his shitmobile up and down the country trying to find people to vote for him.
But Green David just wants to be liked.
He doesn't want to say stop driving your car, because then the cuntryside alliance and their mates won't like him.
And Green David just wants to be liked.
He doesn't want to say take a bus because then the car industry won't like him.
And Green David just wants to be liked.
He doesn't want to tell people who have cars he'll tax them or to stop using them, because then they won't like him.
And Green David just wants to be liked.
The people who will not like what Green David said about car use are, funnily enough, the Greens.
But that's because Green David isn't really green at all.
He's a PR-trained short-sighted buzzword-talking policy-vacuum moonface with all the integrity of an Italian tax return.

Sunday, April 23, 2006


Yep, this will be about the average celebration today in honour of England's patron saint.
On St Patrick's Day people who don't have an ounce of Irish blood in their bodies wear enormous green hats, cover themselves in clover and drink Guinness until they drop.
On St George's day a few old white people in twee villages in Buckinghamshire bake cakes and make tea, and a couple of rugby clubs do a two-for-one offer on a pint of English bitter.
It doesn't exactly, er, rock.
I'm not sure why no major sponsor (let's face it, Guinness sponsor the Irish one worldwide) has bothered trying to market St George's day to the English.
Possibly because the English flag (that's the white one with a red cross on it) has long been owned in this country by football hooligans and, oddly, people who like Nazis.


There's nothing like a supermodel to make any prospective marxist revolutionary to have a shave, put on his best shirt and smile nicely.
Which is what I did when I met both of these women on separate occasions, Crawford round about 1995 and Schiffer in 1997.
As you can see, they both do the lying on the beach thing really really well.
In the flesh, things were slightly different.
Crawford was beautiful, smart, funny, intelligent, lively, and though it was plausible she might occasionally bat for the other side, that really didn't matter.
I even lost a stone watching her exercise video.
Sometimes I even exercised.
Schiffer was, hmm, well she was pretty, I'll give her that.
At the time she was engaged to that oh-so-macho magician David Copperfield.
I remember her telling me that despite their engagement, they only saw each other four times a year.
That was the most interesting thing she said in two hours.
Obviously in one of his less publicised stunts I think he had made her personality disappear.
Oddly the two never married, despite an engagement lasting years, and Schiffer now lives in London and has two kids with a rich English fella.


Er, so does that mean that he would approve of Iraq invading Saudi Arabia, a kingdom where the Americans buy their oil and no democracy exists?
Thought not...


Fuck it, take the whole family, mate.
Basra's nice this time of year...


Thanks for that. Very generous.


-------MY COPY IS YOUR RIGHT E.R. 2006------- 

Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.