The Whatsname Universal Oracle

Quis est iste qui venit?

HISTORY HAS BEEN MADE in the good old U S of whatever. Barack Obama (pictured above) has been elected Prime Minister by a considerably considerable margin, and his opponent, John McCain, has shot himself in shame.* Obama's reign promises to be a breath of fresh gas compared to his disgraced and disgraceful predecessor, George W. something or other. Here's a brief run-through of three major policies Obama will address in the glory days to come:

• On Cuba, Obama has pledged to actively continue the nearly 50-year trade embargo, an embargo judged illegal by the United Nations. This is in stark contrast to the previous US administrations who cynically did exactly the same, as if to demonstrate their impartiality.
• Obama has indicated that he will somehow deal with those naughty Latin American countries who had the nerve, like Venezuela, to elect popular leftist leaders. He calls these paragons of democracy a 'vacuum' that needs to be filled.
• Iran had better watch out because, without any evidence, Obama believes it is interfering in Latin American politics, and no doubt he also thinks they're trying to build a nuclear weapon - you know, like the ones Israel cheekily won't admit to having.

True, it is indeed an historic time in the sense that he's the first black man to be elected President, and we can certainly take some enjoyment from the symbolic bitch-slapping his election represents to the forces of racism and backward looking redneck stupidity. And he is most definitely infinitely more articulate and clever than the previous incumbent of the Whitehouse, whose name I forget, just like the previous incumbent of the Whitehouse. Nevertheless, it remains to be seen if the U.S.'s foreign policy ambitions will deviate markedly from the direction they've been going in up until now.

But let us not be too cynically cynical. We here in TeamWhatsname extend a cautious hand across the water to the new guys on the scene, TeamBarack.

* By the metaphor 'shot himself in shame' I mean that McCain has withdrawn in a dignified manner.

USA Election Frenzy 2008

THERE'S ONLY ONE DAY TO GO before our good friends the United States of Americans choose their new President, so you'll excuse me if I scream, 'Woo Hooo! Go the Distance! Yeeeeha! U S A! U S A!'
And what a wide choice our Yankee buddies have when it comes to picking their Head Honcho.

Consider. 

On the one hand we have wee Johnny McCain (pictured right) a thoroughly decent chap who intends, if elected, to revitalize America's self-image and restore its reputation as the leading beacon of Truth, Hope, Freedom and purveyor of saccharine, kitten-soft, nauseatingly childish sound bites, very much like the ones you're reading now. Heartless naysayers, by definition terrorists and perverts, jeer that McCain is as useful as a cast-iron string vest, but we pay no heed.

And on the other glove we have Barack Obama (pictured below left), a thoroughly decent chap who intends, if elected, to light the searchlight of Freedom, to wield it in his mighty fists and, with the combined force of every True American's Patriotism acting as a bulwark of strength behind him, to shine this God-given light o'er the wide world, wherever Fear, Oppression, Hatred and Extremism flourish. Critics of Mr. Obama - by definition un-American extremists - say that he would make a great President if only he had a different personality, but, again, we pay no heed..

 Yes! my friends! Now is the time for we who are cursed to not be Americans to watch from the sidelines awestruck as the Presidential circus rolls on and on, at every step spreading the word that only ONE nation on God's Earth has a higher purpose and a nobler calling than any other.

The USA, as they keep telling us relentlessly are God's chosen ones, the Keepers of the Flame of Freedom, the liberators of the Chained and Enslaved, the friends of starving and disadvantaged children everywhere.

For make no mistake, it matters little if fiercely patriotic Democrat McCain or apple-pie lovin' Republican Obama end up in the Whitehouse: whoever wins a New Age of Mankind will dawn, a golden Renaissance when we shall, under the patient guidance of our benevolent protectors, realise our full potential as willing consumers of American culture, American food and American saccharine, kitten-soft, nauseatingly childish sound bites.

Let us wave farewell to George W. Bush as he shuffles off, his eyes glazed over with his permanent expression of bewildered incomprehension, and falls into the nearest trash bin. (Alas! If only human vivisection were legal, for then and only then would this sickening excuse for a 'leader' be of some use to humanity.)

Get the beers in, ladies and gentlemen, and tune in to the Greatest Show on Earth when it starts tomorrow night.

Bring it on. Can I get a Yeeeeehaaaaa?

Tram News and so on

AS THE EDINBURGH TRAM PROJECT CONTINUES, the inevitable road works and traffic congestion are understandably upsetting local businesses. Edinburghers and Leithites are feeling riled up good and proper, be they businessmen or punters in the street. A friend of mine, Arbuthnot Prendergast, has been telling me about his struggle to maintain his new business venture, to be found near the Foot o’ the Walk. Prendergast, an Oxford University history graduate with a keen interest in the history of transportation, moved to Leith last July and set about fulfilling his lifelong dream: opening a museum dedicated to trams. Alas his timing was unfortunate, and as we relax in the fragrant environs of the Windsor Buffet, he tells of his frustration at the upheaval caused by the ongoing engineering work.

“It’s just ridiculous,” he says between gulps of beer, “These trams are a nuisance. If it wasn’t for them, my tram museum would be pulling in the crowds.” 

As it is, he tells me, the only custom he has seen in the five months since he started is when someone comes in to complain loudly about the chaos caused by the multi-million pound tram project. I offer my sympathy and reflect that such unpleasantness is merely temporary. He agrees and I am soon able to convince him that it will all be worth while in the end. Indeed by the time we leave the bar he is so enamored of the tram works that he pays tribute to the council by vomiting in the gutter and toasting its health with a kebab. 

Edinburgh has its fair share of eccentrics, and I went out recently to find some, for your delectation, gentle reader. I met one chap in the Artisan bar, Terry, who attracted attention by wearing an eye patch over his right ear. “It’s because I’m half deaf!” he explained. I should’ve guessed. Seeing a cigarette packet sticking out of his blazer pocket, I asked if I could have one, because I like a sly puff now and then. He handed me the packet, and I opened it to find it empty. “Of course it’s empty’” he said. “I don’t smoke.” I decided to leave then before he got weird. At least I can take comfort in my own sanity: my doctor tells me I’m so normal that it’s just not natural, and he insists I’m a freak.

Enjoy the weather and see ya later, folks.

A Warning to the Curious

Back in 2006 the International Astronomical Union (IAU) decreed that the planetary body Pluto, the member of our solar system furthest from the sun, is no longer to be called a planet. According to the BBC, 'The researchers said Pluto failed to dominate its orbit around the Sun in the same way as the other planets,' and is from now onwards to be known as a 'dwarf'.

Given that it might just possibly take two years to travel from Pluto to Earth in a rocket ship thingy, I say it's only a matter of time before we are beset by Plutonian refugees and asylum seekers, now that their home planet is regarded as a cosmic backwater. We humans should stand shoulder-to-shoulder against this alien danger so that if our backs are against the wall we can turn around and start fighting.

We should unite, be behind each other all the way, and prevail against the possible imminent threat from space.

Can you imagine a world where our shores are flooded by a vast influx of extraterrestrial freeloaders and chancers, keen to exploit our namby-pamby social security services?

I can see it now in my mind’s ear, a future dystopia where our once proud and noble values have withered: pensioners being mugged by Martian junkies; inter-dimensional asylum seekers scrounging money off our plucky single mothers; a weird-looking potato-shaped thing playing crazy golf to try to impress its boss, a sort of slug made of blue meat.

I can see all this, and truly it is an abomination. But it need not come to pass.

My friends, I say this to you: if you look through a telescope at the now demoted Pluto, what will you see? You will see, oh seekers of wisdom, loads of lazy Plutonian losers salivating at the space-border as they stare hungrily at poor wee earth, dying to come here to practice their freakish ways.

Or you may not because we do not as yet have any concrete evidence as to the existence of life on Pluto. But just because a threat is imaginary doesn’t make it any less real, and it’s surely not our place to impose on the hapless Plutonians an indeterminate existential status just because it suits us.

Yet we can learn from this dilemma of conscience, and emerge stronger.

For when faced with a common threat the human race should unite in solidarity, act as one, because only by joining forces can we truly overcome adversity and leave a legacy of trust for the future.

Let us work, then, to foster this life-affirming dream so that one day we will forget our differences and live together in peace.

And maybe by then we will have forgotten all about the illusory threat we faced and be left instead bound together in brotherhood, feeling like it had always been that way.

Whatsname’s Random Jottings

News reaches me of Edinburgh Council’s newest, and in my opinion, cleverest bid to attract tourists: grave diggers are to work only from midnight onwards and they are to be dressed in luminous ghost costumes. I kid you not. Is this not brilliant? Is this not proof, if proof were needed, that genius is manifested in ways other than through the medium of the popular arts? Are you getting hungry yet?

If I wasn’t writing this on my computer I’d be using a pen and paper. A humble ball-point pen would be my main instrument. Think on, friends. What a marvel of modern invention is this ubiquitous implement? If I were to travel back in time to the court of King Arthur, I would be regarded as a great wizard, were I to demonstrate my futuristic writing device. But as soon as they found my Time Machine I’d be burned at the stake as an agent of Satan, for sure. Still. Mustn’t grumble. Imagine the smell of freshly baked bread.

I got possessed by the Devil last weekend, and apparently he was feeling rather un-ambitious. He made me go out unto Leith Walk and drink lager with friends, friends who were equally enslaved, then consume with gusto the meat of the kebab. I pranced and cavorted like unto an dork, and there was much rejoicing, yay, even unto the very hours of morning. And friends brought wine, saying, ‘Behold! We bring drink that we might party hard and argue about nothing, and then get more kebabs!’ And it came to pass that from my mouth I did later cast out the Devil in a mighty torrent, saying unto him, ‘Hooo-haaah! Better out than in!’ I did rest then and the soft Sunday daylight and the dull ache that was memory cast me into a quietly contemplative mood. Imagine the sizzle of bacon as it drops into the hot frying pan.

Isaac Newton famously sat under a tree, so goes the legend, and was hit on the head by a falling apple. Inspired by this he went on to invent gravity, but not before creating the first portable deck chair. In a new book, Newton Goes Nutzoid, by controversial American writer Elton Swigg, it is revealed that Newton’s initial thought after the apple fell was actually, ‘Knickers! I should’ve sat somewhere else!’ Luckily for us he didn’t but instead went on to do some more work in physics and mathematics.

He formulated his three laws of motion, and also invented calculus and the reflecting telescope. You grab a large, juicy chicken leg in your hand and bite into it hungrily. Swigg tells of how decadent hell-raiser Newton married eight times and had a total of fourteen children, all illegitimate.

Featured in Newton Goes Nutzoid are historical accounts of his words and deeds that have never before received widespread dissemination. For example, around the start of the 18th century Jonathan Swift, the Anglo-Irish satirist and essayist who enjoyed roast duck with gammon in a rich white sauce, had a public feud with Newton over the issue of who could drink the most beer. In the notorious ‘Gin Alley Smack Down of 1706’ the two great men slugged it out at the Get Drunk Inn in fashionable Gin Alley. A mouthwatering blend of succulent nougat, almonds, caramel and fudge, smothered in gorgeous white chocolate.

Newton managed to down five bottles of quality red wine - a bit fruity with an earthy undertone - and Swift got through four and a half of a rather disappointing Beaujolais from 1692 but then that was a poor year all round especially in the south. They both then decided that since they were best mates they’d call it a draw, because, as Isaac succinctly explained, ‘See you? See me? See you and me, see us, we’re great pals! I love you, man! Oh Danny Boy… Sing it with me!’

One minute later they spontaneously became bitter enemies and beat each other unconscious, and then were robbed by enterprising fellow drinkers who knew an opportunity when they saw one. A twin layered combination of crispy cereals and nougatine, wrapped in delicious toffee.

It all went a bit sour in 1712 when Newton decided to change career. ‘I’m going to become a blood-thirsty, murdering pirate scumbag!’ he announced one day, and that’s exactly what he did. He lived as a stereotypical pirate villain for five years until the authorities caught up with him, in India. By then he had turned into a tragic pastiche of his former greatness: a shambling, perpetually drunk, inarticulate, homicidal, drooling cannibal.

Despite these playful eccentricities, he was pardoned by Royal decree and took a seat in the House of Lords, where he was later to be described as a moderating influence. That’s Isaac Newton for you – crazy name, crazy guy. That’s your lot for now. I’m off for a burger.

Newton Goes Nutzoid, by Elton Swigg is published by Faber & Fibre, £15, from 1st December 2008.

The Whatsname Blog 2007 Public Service Awards

  As the year draws to a close it's time again for me to praise the courage and conviction and bravery of some of the people, and things, who've been in the news in 2007. I've chosen a broad range of candidates from all walks of life: politics, entertainment, industry and so on. Here they are in random alphabetical order:

Bin Laden in Turin Shroud Shocker

WORLD EXCLUSIVE SHOCK NEWS! Read it here, only in the Whatsname Blog.

Bomb threat 'averted'

The late dissident journalist Isidor Feinstein Stone once famously said, 'All governments lie', and we should bear this in mind when considering the news that police have defused a massive car bomb. The police, being a branch of the state, can be no more immune to creative reinterpretation of the facts than those who claim to run the country in our name.

Shoe-lace Scandal Update

This update to my call to action comes later than I had promised, and for that I apologise: I know only too well the mental anguish such important issues can provoke.

Gordon Brown - A Tribute

At last. At LAST! Gordon Brown, the greatest living politician of our age - or ANY age - has finally taken the reins of power of this great nation, the greatest nation of our age - or ANY age.