“Golden Sky” — Vol.7

Letter to the Politics Editor

Stephen Blackford

May 25, 2024

Hurleston Locks, at the intersection between the Shropshire Union Canal and the Llangollen Canal, 3rd June 2023 **(Author’s Collection)**

“Letter to the Politics Editor”
and more thoughts from a Kingdom of Fear

13th June 2022

Please rush to the Politics Editor

Hello my old friend and political greetings from the Kingdom of Fear.

It’s been some time since my last communique to you and I trust the rehabilitation is going well. I did say you were dancing with death with those loud office proclamations that I wasn’t “relevant” anymore and apparently revenge is best served cold. I have to admit that I did chuckle as I heard the volume of your fear rising as you clearly, and indeed loudly, realised the extent of the wolverines that had been surreptitiously released inside your office and hungrily awaited your return all those weeks ago. We’ve known each other long enough now to know that I simply couldn’t have my authority in the Politics Department undermined in the way that you did, but I believe it best that we move on from this now, draw a line in the sands of time, and provide our readers with the hard hitting content expected of a premier political news outlet. I know the wounds are raw, possibly hideously disfiguring and incredibly deep, but please believe me my old friend, it’s not as deep as the love I have for you.

As a man known for having his thumb on the pulse of political and cultural discourse (did the wolverines eat your thumbs?), I know you’ll be aware of the current shenanigans inside our collective madhouse, but it’s a full moon my friend, the fever is everywhere, and no more aptly demonstrated than the plans to collect farts and burps from cows to save our planet. Remember those two youthful rapscallions in the 1980’s fearing the oft advertised coming ice age? How we’ve aged my friend! From ice age to earth melting to a more middle ground, yet screaming insanity of “climate change” and how those vacuous vermin get away with it heaven only knows.

Just picture this if you will: The great and the good are actively planning to place face masks on cows to protect a prehistoric rock, which is either six thousand or six billion years old depending on your religious predilection, and a rock that’s gently spinning and rolling on it’s low 20 degree angle around a ginormous life giving fire ball, protected by a moon that we only see one side of, and all as we balloon through the enormity of an unknowable, unquantifiable and completely unfathomable universe. We are Carl Sagan’s “Pale Blue Dot” in the dark ocean of infinity, but collecting the exhalations of cows is going to save us apparently. You can’t put the shit back in the horse, or indeed a cow my friend, but you know the crazies manifesto by now. The drip, drip deluge of the crazy, psychotic and even the banal becomes normalised and strangely in line with those pesky conspiracy theorists who screamed this mad shit decades ago.

But here we are, masking cows.

To save the earth.

They’ll be promoting the idea of humans wearing face masks next.

You mark my words my old friend.

Swanley on the Llangollen Canal, 3rd June 2023 **(Author’s Collection)**

I don’t like Monday’s, you know that, and it doesn’t have anything to do with a silicon chip inside my head being “switched to overload”, but that brave new world is ahead my friend, and especially so if Elon Musk has his way. But today’s Monday is a refreshing one here in the UK as we, as a Nation, are finally showing our true colours to the world. If today isn’t recorded as a zeitgeist moment then I’ll be writing a particularly scathing and vociferous letter to my local MP to ensure that it is. Not only is this great nation on the precipice of sending the most vulnerable and least fortunate among us to Rwanda, we have a Prince wishing to be “reinstated, recognised, and respected” and we have a Prince of Darkness being Knighted. From Jubilee bunting and street parties to deporting people to Africa, “moving on” (today’s political buzzword of the bastard) from a member of the Royal Family inextricably linked to the world’s most notorious sex trafficker and sexual predator, and a war criminal being Knighted for his services to the Establishment.

There’s another pandemic “wave” coming apparently, and it’ll probably be ridden by the Pharmaceutical Industry through pomp, fanfare and the accumulation of vast quantities of tax payers money. If it wasn’t for their rapacious business model, and disaster capitalism business model of continual growth even on the back of human despair, one wonders where our world would be right now. But the Kingdom of Fear needs their products more so than ever before, so I guess we should be thankful and especially so yourself, as you recuperate from those hideous and quite distressing scars the wolverines left you with.

Keep taking the medicine, man. Be good to see you back in the office.

Just not anytime soon. OK?

Much love, take care and if you see a cow, put a mask on its face.

Every little helps.