Sunday, April 23, 2006

Happy St George's Day

Happy St George's Day, my lucky little English readers: try to forget that we are ruled by fascist bastards, and enjoy thyselves. And, in order to help you to achieve joy, especially for you here is Mr Eugenides, attempting to make sense of Patricia Hewitt.
NHS 'enjoying best ever year' - Hewitt 105

Now that was odd. He knew he was awake and yet his telescreen was malfunctioning. Everyone knew that the NHS was fucked as a virgin bride. Deficits were at record levels, morale at a record low, the Stalinist bureaucracy - the 'targets' - the cack-handed attempts at reform - the whole thing was a shambles. And yet there it was, clear as day.
NHS 'enjoying best ever year' - Hewitt 105

And then he switched on ITV, and there she was.
"We are on course to meet all our targets", she said.

But hang on, said the interviewer (Dimbleby?)—it's being reported in the papers that you're not going to meet at least eleven of your targets. Is that not true?
"It is true that we are currently behind on some of our targets", she said.

But hang on, said Dimbleby (Jonathan? David?), you have just said two contradictory things in the space of 10 seconds. Doesn't that make you a lying whore, Minister?
"I think you'll find that those targets where we are currently behind are lifestyle targets such as cutting obesity and so forth, where government shares responsibility with myself, yourself and all the public."

In other words, it was our fault that Patsy was fucking things up.
"We have written a big cheque to the NHS, and I'm very proud of that", she continued.

Hang on, thought Mr Eugenides, you've written a very big cheque and you're very proud of that? If I had someone else's chequebook, he thought, I'd write very big cheques too, you syphilitic trollop.

O cruel, needless misunderstanding! O stubborn self-willed exile from the loving breast! Two gin-scented tears trickled down the sides of his nose. But it was all right, everything was all right, the struggle was finished. He had won the victory over himself. He loved Patricia Hewitt.

Pure joy: go read it all...

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