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 The Scent That Captures That "1930s Moment"!

All material copyrighted to © 2014

or to the various credited sources © 2014



Put to one side any philanthropic scruples as to today’s

Appearance of moral probation imposed on the unemployed,

Symbolic chain-gangs lining figurative roads in luminous

Tabards, like so many linked buoys –better to peel away

Any layers of hairshirt ethics you might have as to helping

Others, ditch any utopian notions as to any of us being in

It for anything other than ourselves; and, most of all, rinse

Out any stubborn stains of numinous phantasms –for today

Is for the practicable and frugal: it’s back to decapitating

Beveridge’s Five-Headed Hydra of Giant Evils; state

Assistance based on contribution, not pure need, otherwise,

Those who really need it would have an automatic claim –

Plus immigrants, travellers and foreigners would be eligible

For benefits –So spout those O so sensible Orange Liberals,

‘Red’ Tories and ‘Blue’-Rinse Labourites: put the working

Back into working class, along with cloth caps and whippets,

Whip up brouhaha of moral panic about Bulgarians,

Romanians and Roma (courtesy of Rothmans-and-Spitfire

Man of the bygone moment and resurgent yesterdays,

Frog-faced laughing Farage, going rebbit rebbit at the sight

Of any immigrant –that jocund pint-propper, the amiable,

Pub-flushed, Real Ale, saloon bar xenophobe) -it’s a beer-mat

And slippery sloping elbow from quixotic notions of English

Village greens, willow-clopping Winchester cricket grounds,

Tepid beer and Jubilees, blimpish limps back to mothballed

British Imperialism (after all, the Empire's sun never set, but

Was packed up and dismantled spontaneously, while the Raj

Was melted down into outsourced pools of cheap rupees,

Diverted calls, sweatshop factories and post-colonial

Corner-shop outposts), pitching Jacks back on pink maps

In “bongo-bong-lands” a la Mr Bloom’s Emporium

Of Politically Incorrect Tropes, Dysphemisms and Other

Choicest Snippets, Parochial, Patriotic and Protectionist

Polemical Assortments tripping off his Werther’s Original-

Polished tongue, lozenges coined by August Storck…



It’s just a kip away, the grapefruit breakfast with fascism,

The pastoral nightmare of patchwork terror on waking;

It’s just a kip away, from Faragism to Falangism– O

England wake up and smell the hemlock in the coffee! …some

Of you may shout –but that’s to misinterpret what this fiscal

Consolidation is all about: Psychical Repatriation of the British

Sensibility –to which, the perfect olfactory complement is,

Naturally, DEVON VIOLET’s latest VANITY SPRAY! You kip

If you want to, but the day is not for kipping! It’s for spraying! 

Whether it’s perfume, tear gas, tasers, or pepper spray! DEVON

VIOLET’s virile nasal vibes are certainly enough to bring tears

To the eyes! But there’s simply no place in this nation for further

Integration, foreign inhalation –Multiculturalism was

A foxing experiment with mixed results at best; pepper-scented

Propogator of a mongrel osmagogue which swept across

The proboscises of the pedigreed inhabitants of this sceptred

Isle of Hessian pile, for as long as was possible, fine for a while,

During the labour shortage of the boom years; but not anymore –

Now it’s turned septic, especially for the neuro-sceptic;

Since the downturn and the double-dip in supply and demand,

It’s simply not cricket; not to mention the undercutting

Of wages through cheap imported labour; the pawnbrokering

Of employment rights; the return of Victorian workfare (O

Please Sir, can I have some more zero hours? and all that rags

And Artful Dodger bit); apprenticeships and unpaid placements;

Mandatory voluntarism; casualisation of labour;

Vilification of welfare (choicest topical spice of the Brits –

The Vindaloo of stigma-curried Social Attitudes Surveys)…

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